Myla’s POV
The night was warm, too warm for October.
The power went out in the bookstore just as I was packing up, leaving only the faint streetlights outside and the sound of my heart pounding.
My colleagues had left earlier. Mia, who usually finished her shift with me, always dropped me off at the bus stop, the one that felt a mile too far when the night got too quiet. She didn’t live anywhere near my neighborhood, so that was where her kindness ended. Mia came from money; you could tell from the way she dressed and the car she drove. Sometimes I wondered why she bothered working here at all. The bookstore didn’t pay much, and there was nothing glamorous about the smell of old paper and dust. Maybe she was hiding from something too.
Tonight, I wanted to be on my own. I had told her
