LEXIE
NEXT DAY
Mr. Harlan sent me home early, telling me the afternoon was slow and he didn't need two people standing around watching dust settle on the vitamin shelf. I told him I didn't mind staying. He told me he minded so I took my jacket and left.
The walk back to the bar was quiet. Mid afternoon in Harlow had its own particular stillness, the kind that settled in after lunch and before the evening, when the town seemed to exhale and just exist for a while without needing anything from anyone.
I took the longer route without deciding to, past the small park and the bakery with its window steamed up from whatever was in the oven, and let my mind do nothing for a few minutes.
It was getting easier to do that, the nothing, just walking without cataloguing every car and every face
