Chapter Fifteen
Tuesday, 5:01 p.m.
My first thought was that I wished I was wearing a jacket. And maybe my snow pants. I wrapped my arms around my torso, chafing the fabric of my lilac turtleneck sweater against my sides in a futile effort to keep the winter chill at bay. (Even though Tara was only wearing another one of her long-sleeved tunics, she seemed impervious to the cold.)
The alley outside the entrance to my apartment was as empty as the stairwell had been. Snowdrifts piled against the side of the bookstore’s brick facade. (I had shovelled the area leading to the door the day before, but the wind had other ideas.) Together, Tara and I crept to the alley entrance to look out onto the street.
“…going to have to ask you to move back,” a familiar voice called out in an official to
