matter—not even when my fingers snatch something from his table as if of their own accord.
“I said leave,” he snaps as my hand slips into my bag, depositing a scrap of paper inside. “Zhang can consider himself cleared…for now. I’ll collect my payment later.”
“What do you mean?”
He scoffs. “I mean you should scurry away before I change my mind, rabbit.”
I don’t challenge him this time. I just run, powering forward until I’m outside, hurrying down the street. Only when he’s safely in the distance, do I find myself withdrawing the slip of paper. My hands shake as I unfurl it, but I’m forced to smooth it out against the side of a nearby building to appreciate the image in full.
A laboriously sketched dragon rages, seemingly alive though formed out of ink and bold lines. Its eyes meet mine unflinchingly, proposing a question I’m not brave enough to answer.
You’d let him do whatever the fuck he wanted to you, wouldn’t you?
I crumble it into a ball and start toward a nearby trash can. In the end, I return it to my bag instead. As I head home, I grit my teeth, desperate to ignore that niggling question.
Would I have?
My racing heartbeat provides the answer my pride refuses to acknowledge.
Given his personality, I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
Chapter Five
It’s amazing what a shower can do. Soothe aching muscles, and wash away the dirt and grime left by a stranger’s groping fingertips. Lies, too. The spray of water even disguises the tears spilling from my eyes, and for one brief second, all my worries disappear into a wad of terry cloth and soap. Once the water shuts off, however, they find me again.
The second I step into a towel, the ping of my cell phone becomes a chilling reminder of the hell my life has become. My hand shakes as I snatch the device from the counter where I left it. The screen flashes with a predictable message from Branden. Good morning. Text when you’re awake. I miss your smile.
But there’s another lurking beneath his from a number I don’t recognize. Please, Hannah. Lexi deserves justice. Please call me.
I block that number without a second thought and change into a sweater and jeans. When I enter my living room, my phone lights up again, a text message from Mara this time. Missed you last night! Wanna go out tonight?
I don’t answer. Instead, I leave my building and head to the Paper Crane. It’s still boarded up, the broken glass replaced with plywood. A crude, handwritten sign on the door proclaims Closed indefinitely, with a list of nearby bookstores to visit instead.
Because even in his own dire straits, Mr. Zhang still can’t ignore the quest for a good book.
Rather than obey the sign, I cut around to the side alley and approach a door I’ve only ever entered through on my very first day when I came to interview for the job. I knock once to silence. Then again.
It’s chilly out despite the sun blazing down. I’m forced to wrap my arms around myself as I pace the narrow space before the door. Finally, its hinges squeal as it’s cautiously opened from the inside. “What do you want?” A pair of wary eyes peeks out from the thinnest crack.
“Here.” I reach into my bag and withdraw a battered envelope. “It’s probably not much, all things considered, but it should be enough to at least help replace some of the stock. Here. Take it.”
He doesn’t. “You should leave.” The thin crack vanishes as the door slams shut.
I watch the envelope of money tremble over the filthy concrete below as my hand wavers. “I want to work. I can pick up trash. Whatever you need,” I say to the silence. “I… I need to work.”
The tremble of desperation in my voice can’t be faked. Hours in the bookstore have become a welcome escape for me. Otherwise, nothing prevents me from sitting in my apartment and staring into space as Branden stares back.
“Please…”
I don’t know how much time passes before those rusty hinges squeal again, and someone gingerly pries the money from my grasp.
“You’re a good girl.” Mr. Zhang sighs as he opens the envelope and starts to count the assorted bills inside. “Too good. You want to work?” He jerks his chin toward the front of the shop. “Go in, and you start fixing up. You’re right, this isn’t much…” He pockets the money, but then his lips part in a quick, warm grin before