Dead Pretty - Samantha Towle Page 0,59

that resembles happiness.

We exit the building into the cold air. At least it’s not snowing at the moment.

We make our way over to his bike. Jack gets his helmet out of the bag on his bike while I put mine on. I have finally figured out how to fasten it. Though I do miss Jack doing it for me and having him close.

But then I get to have him as close as I want, as often as I want.

That thought makes me smile.

I get on the bike behind Jack. Snuggling in close, I wrap my arms around his waist.

The journey to my work takes all of five minutes. Jack parks the bike. He leaves me at the library doors with a kiss and a promise to see me soon. He’s coming in the library to write today, but it doesn’t open for the public for another twenty minutes. So, he goes to grab some coffee from the coffee shop.

I head inside the library, thinking about the first time I saw Jack in here. I can’t believe it was only a few weeks ago.

A lot has changed in that short period of time.

But I know better than anyone how things can change in the blink of an eye.

Nope. Not going anywhere near those bad thoughts today.

Today is a good day, and nothing is going to spoil it. Especially not thoughts of my past.

“You look happy today,” Margaret comments as I stand in the doorway to her office.

“What?”

“Happy,” she repeats. “I said, you look happy.”

“Oh.”

A normal response would be, Don’t I always look happy? But I’m not even going to waste my breath saying something that would be a lie because I don’t usually look happy.

Happy hasn’t been my thing for a long time.

But apparently, I am today.

And I know exactly why.

Jack.

I’m just still not sure if it’s a good idea or right and fair for me to be feeling even a scrap of happiness when others can’t because of me.

“Well, it’s nice to see,” she adds when I don’t respond further.

“I just came to check on what you need me to do today.”

“If you could work on the desk again, that would be a big help.”

I don’t relish the thought of being on reception and checkout, but I also don’t hate the idea as much as I once used to.

Standing at that desk means I will have full view of the library. Where Jack will be sitting.

“No problem. Have you heard anything about Mike?” I ask her.

Her face drops, and I immediately feel bad for bringing it up.

“No,” she says quietly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” I’m quick to say.

She gives me an unhappy smile. “You didn’t. It’s just the situation as a whole is sad.”

I nod my agreement. “I’m sure everything will be fine,” I tell her, not knowing if it will be and knowing what things can be like when they’re not. “They will find Mike, and everything will get cleared up. Try not to worry.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right.” She gives me another forced smile.

“Well … I’ll head over to the main desk,” I tell her.

“Would you mind opening up the doors for me?” she asks before I leave.

“Of course.”

“Let me just get you the keys.”

I wait while she rummages around in her bag before she finds them and holds them out for me to take.

“Don’t worry about bringing them back, just leave them in the drawer under the counter. I’ll get them later.”

“Will do.” I take the keys from her outstretched hand and then make my way through the library to open up.

I feel bad for bringing Margaret down just then. But it’s not long before my thoughts are back to Jack, and I’m smiling again.

But my happy bubble doesn’t last for long when Detectives Sparks and Peters walk through the doors of the library only minutes after I unlocked them.

The computer we use to check out books hasn’t even had a chance to fire up when they come strolling in.

I put the keys in the drawer, like Margaret asked me to, and wait for the detectives to approach.

I start to feel a nervous, jittery sensation in my body. Worrying that they know who I really am. What my past is.

“Good morning,” I say to them when they reach the desk.

The library is empty, except for me and the detectives.

Our other staff member, Derek, is in the upstairs stacks, putting yesterday’s returned books away.

“Audrey Hayes,” Detective Sparks says my name. There is an edge to his