Episode 2: The first glance
(From the novel: The Echoes of the Rain)
The morning was a soft melody of sunshine and dusty gold. Dew still clung to the petals of roadside flowers as Ruelle and Enna hurried down the narrow alleyway, their shoes tapping against the cobbled path.
"We're late again," Enna groaned, adjusting the strap of her tote bag. "Mr. Fael will lock the store out of spite one day."
Ruelle chuckled, breathless. "He likes me too much to do that."
"Only because you rearranged the entire poetry section in alphabetical order," Enna muttered. "That man is a monster when books are out of place."
They turned the corner, and there it was—the store.
"Chamber & Quill."
The old bookstore stood like a memory stitched into the street. Ivy crept along the stone frame, and its wooden sign swung gently in the breeze. Inside, the smell of old pages, faded ink, and aged timber welcomed them like an embrace.
Ruelle smiled as she unlocked the door. "I love this place."
She always had. Even before she ever knew it existed.
The day slipped into rhythm. Customers wandered in and out, the air filled with soft music and rustling pages. Enna was at the counter sorting receipts while Ruelle worked in the back section, arranging classic literature on the middle shelf.
It was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
Then, the bell above the door rang.
Ruelle didn't look up at first. But Enna's shift in posture caught her eye — she froze for a moment, as if unsettled by something.
A tall man had entered, dressed in a crisp black coat, hands gloved despite the summer warmth. His face was calm, too calm, but his eyes… his eyes locked on Ruelle the moment he saw her.
And they didn't move.
She blinked, a polite nod offered as any good bookseller would. "Hello, sir. Can I help you?"
The man's gaze lingered just a second longer than necessary.
"No. Just browsing," he said. His voice was smooth, but hollow. He drifted toward the far corner — the rare collection shelf.
From behind the counter, Enna whispered, "Creepy."
Ruelle forced a smile but said nothing. Something about him left a faint chill, like a shadow had brushed her shoulder.
Later that afternoon, Ruelle stepped into the store's tiny washroom behind the storeroom. As she washed her hands, she looked into the mirror—and for a split second—her breath caught.
Her reflection…
It hadn't moved like she had.
It was just her face, but pale. Eyes darker. Something behind them — sorrow… or fear?
She blinked again, and it was gone. Normal. Just her.
Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was her overthinking.
But as she stepped out, she could still feel the man's stare — even though he had left hours ago.
When she checked the rare shelf later that evening, one book was missing from its usual place.
But no book had been sold from this section...
📜 To be continued...