The City of Crows by Bethany Lovejoy (great books to read .txt) 📕

his hanging close to the surface, waiting for me to stir it. My eyes traveled from my cup to his, yet he averted his gaze from mine, quickly swallowing his tea in two large gulps. His face fought back his disgust at the flavor.

“You can sleep on the bed,” Leo began, eager to direct my attention elsewhere. “I’ll take the couch.”

9

The Unexpected Visitor

“Oh, thank god, you know I was beginning to think that you quit,” Emma’s voice greeted me when I walked through the front door of the store, my mind still in a haze, just as it had been for the past few days.

Thoughts pushed against my skull like a wave overtaking a tidepool, sloshing over the edges of my consciousness as I pulled my forest green apron over my head, securing the ties.

The black liquid in Leo’s cup still bothered me, as did the news about Rowan and the fact that he’d not called my home that night. Something about the crows and the way they hung off the powerlines, leaning in to watch as we walked across the street taunted me. Everything felt, as it never had before, so impossibly overwhelming. Yvie had mixed me a calming potion, but the damp fog as I left our apartment building seemed to be enough to take that away, my body having not fully accepted the potion.

Now I’d made it to work, but even entering the shop felt like additional weight on my shoulders. To add to it all, frequent check after frequent check did not provide me any reprieve; there were no messages from Leo. He was gone when I left the following morning, a note left on his counter telling me to make myself at home as he went out to sketch. But, after that? Not a single word, no text messages or phone calls for the past week.

Maybe that’s why I was so concerned about the black liquid.

It wasn’t a potion, I would have known if it was a potion. Yvie was connected to nearly the entire market, and she knew who sold what to who. She would have mentioned if she knew he’d bought some, she would have even offered to provide him with her own blend. No, whatever he was drinking was far stranger, unknown to me. I’d described the smell and texture to Yvie, but she’d not been able to identify it, saying that it would more likely be something that you had to witness to know.

Worry seeped into my thoughts. I wouldn’t admit it, but it was far more predominant in my brain than anything else.

The crash of a book cart into my side brought me back to reality, Emma’s mouth twisted in cruel joy. “Oops,” she said, brushing off her hands as she removed them from the cart. Unsurprisingly, the cart was full. “I just had to leave them for the past few days; I didn’t want to mess with your system. There’s three more in the back,” she informed me. As if the carts alone weren’t enough for me to realize that my little indiscretion of leaving early had landed me in the dog house, she added, “Able wants all the shelves cleaned and the spines aligned, and don’t forget to alphabetize the picture books. Be sure to get that done tonight. He won’t be happy if the shelves are a mess tomorrow.”

“Right,” I said, reaching back to tie my apron even tighter. Maybe if I did that, I could focus a bit more. It was worth a shot, at least for now.

I gave my phone one last futile glance, seeing once again that no calls or notifications were awaiting me. Disappointed, I threw my phone onto the upper shelf of the cart, gripping the sides as I began to push the heavy load once more. Unsurprisingly, the wheels screamed just as they always did. Maybe if I focused on that, it could feel like a normal day.

Maybe not. Despite myself and the task of shelving books in the right order being practically ingrained in my mind, I couldn’t concentrate. Normally, shelf-reading was an act of meditation for me, but today? Noisily, to the point where I felt almost guilty, I began to put books away; hoping that he would hear me and my squealing cart and come to speak to me if he were there. Unfortunately, there was no sign of him.

The bell over the shop door rang in the background as I broke the cardinal rule of Able’s, reaching for my smartphone during a shift. It was almost as if the world wanted me to know that I’d done something wrong but had run out of more subtle ways to say it. Oh well, Emma was on her phone all the time, and if Able did fire me, then… Well, I could always get a new job. Leo was right, this wasn’t exactly the best place to work.

Unsure what to say or how to lead off, I snipped a picture of the aisle, angling it so the desk that he once sat at was visible in the shot. I stared at the picture, mentally criticizing it but not allowing myself enough time to talk myself out of sending it. Hitting send before I could change my mind, I watched the photo upload, waiting to see if the telltale read message would appear. It didn’t, and so, mentally anguished by what I was doing, I quickly typed a message below it. ‘At work, should I be expecting you?’ Simple enough.

I watched the message for a moment, as if he would text back right away. When he didn’t, I frowned, trying not to concentrate on it too much as I placed the phone face down on my cart once more. He’d write back soon, I reassured myself, kneeling to pick up books from the bottom shelf of the cart. Leo wasn’t the type to make people wait.

I found one that would logically fit in the travel section and breathed a