NATALIA
The next morning came early.
Most establishments outside have yet to open, but our shop has already opened, and I can see him walking from across the shop. I could see from how his lips moved that he had already been mumbling curses about something. He reached out for the pocket of his wrinkled coat, carefully fishing out the keys in his pocket while already annoyed at something.
His eyes landed on his shop, expecting to walk into the same half-cleaned chaos he barked at every morning.
But something was off. The door was unlocked, and he might have forgotten that he let me live inside and clearly hadn’t seen me at the side. He paused, brows furrowed beneath his cap as he pushed the door open, half-ready to accuse some i***t kid of breaking in.
The old chime rang overhead.
“
