Chapter 1
Mia had learned to live quietly.
Her small apartment above the bookstore smelled like cinnamon and old pages. The kind of place that wrapped around you like a warm hug. Every morning, she made her coffee the same way—two sugars, no cream—and sat by the window with a pen in her hand and a journal she never showed anyone.
Some days, she wrote poetry. Other days, she just stared at the blank page, waiting for her heart to speak.
It hadn't always been this way. Once upon a time, she believed in grand gestures and fairy-tale endings. She used to dance barefoot in the kitchen, laugh without holding back, and kiss like forever could actually last.
But love had taught her a lesson she hadn't asked for.
Now, she didn't go looking for anything. Not love, not trouble, not even friendship. She had her bookstore job, her books, her safe little world.
And for the most part, that was enough.
At least, that's what she told herself.
But something had started to shift lately—something small, like a whisper in her chest. A part of her that wondered if maybe... just maybe... she wasn't as okay with being alone as she pretended to be.
That morning, as she stepped into the bookstore, flipping the sign from "Closed" to "Open," the little brass bell over the door rang twice. She didn't know it yet, but that sound wasn't just the start of her day.
It was the start of something else entirely.