The rain started on a Tuesday.
Maya stood at the window, watching it streak down the glass. Grey sky. Grey town. Grey everything. The kind of rain that didn't wash anything away—just made everything heavier. She pressed her palm to the cool glass, watching her breath fog the surface. The water traced slow paths down the pane, blurring the world outside into something shapeless. She could smell the wet earth through the cracks in the window frame. Could feel the dampness creeping in, settling into the wood, into her bones. It was the kind of day that made you want to curl up and disappear.
The bar was quiet. Too quiet. The regulars hadn't come in yet. Jesse was in the back, restocking. Rachel was upstairs, taking a nap. Even the jukebox was silent, like it was waiting for something. The o
