She looked up.
For a moment, she simply stared at me.
Then she walked to the door and unlocked it.
“Alex?”
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Shopping.”
She glanced at the clock.
“We’re closed in six minutes.”
“I’ve always been terrible with deadlines.”
She stepped aside.
I entered.
The store smelled of paper, wood, and freshly brewed coffee. Warm lamps illuminated the reading tables, and a small display near the entrance featured books by local authors.
Behind the counter stood a framed photograph of Karen on opening day.
She looked happier in that picture than I had ever seen her.
I pointed at it.
“You look proud.”
“I am.”
“You should be.”
She looked at me.
For a moment, neither of us knew what to say.
Then she folded her arms.
“Daniel?”
“He came to see me.”
Her expression softened.
“How is he?”
“Confused. Trying. Still convinced that threatening me is a healthy communication strategy.”
