The reporters didn't stay long that day. By late afternoon they had moved further down the street, questioning people near the grocery store and the town café. But the feeling they left behind lingered. Willowbrook suddenly felt like a place people were watching. That evening at home, the conversation followed me. Julia was sitting on the couch scrolling through her phone when I walked into the living room.
"You look tired," she said.
"Long day."
She turned her phone toward me suddenly.
"Look at this."
The same article.
Sebastian McGrey.
My stomach tightened.
"People online are saying he disappeared," Julia continued. "Some think he's hiding somewhere."
Grandma glanced up from her knitting.
"Hiding from what?"
Julia shrugged.
"Business drama. Rich people problems."
I forced a small laugh.
"Probably something like that."
But my thoughts were still on the bookstore. And the reporters. And the man who had been reading quietly in the corner like none of it existed.
The conversation from yesterday still followed me as I walked to Ashton Park that morning. Even Willowbrook felt different now less quiet, more watchful, like every corner of the town was somehow paying attention. Emilia was already inside when I unlocked the door, organizing a stack of newly arrived books with her usual calm efficiency.
"Good morning," she said softly, not looking up from her work. But I could feel her eyes on me, quiet and knowing, like she always had that look when she understood more than she let on.
"Morning," I murmured, forcing myself to focus on the counter instead of the racing thoughts in my chest.
She didn't speak, only gave me a slight nod and a faint smile enough to let me know she already knew about him, about why yesterday had felt so strange. I busied myself with the shelves, trying to steady the flutter in my stomach, when the bell above the door chimed softly.
I froze.
Slowly, I looked up.
He was there.
Sebastian.
He stepped inside carefully, almost gliding across the wooden floor. His dark jacket was simple and unassuming, but the quiet confidence in his posture made him impossible to miss. The kind of presence that made the air heavier, even though he said nothing. Emilia stepped slightly aside, giving us space without a word. I could see in her eyes that she already knew, and she was letting this moment unfold naturally.
I swallowed hard. "You came back."
Sebastian's gaze swept toward the window first, scanning the street with careful precision. Then he looked back at me. "Jason called me," he said quietly. The words made sense. That explained how he knew it was safe enough to enter without anyone noticing.
I tried to steady my voice.
"You were careful."
He allowed a small, almost imperceptible smile. "I've learned to be."
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The sunlight streaming through the tall windows caught the dust in the air, turning it golden. The bookstore felt smaller, cozier — yet the world outside suddenly felt enormous and threatening.
"I saw the article," I finally whispered.
His gaze softened, and for a moment he looked tired, almost vulnerable. "I was hoping it wouldn't reach here."
I swallowed. "The reporters came yesterday. People are talking. They're asking questions."
He nodded slowly, as if acknowledging something I hadn't said aloud. "I know."
Silence filled the store, punctuated only by the faint ticking of the clock and the quiet shuffle of books from the shelves. Then he spoke, deliberately, softly, in a voice that made my heart leap:
"Selena"
That one word carried weight. Intimacy. Recognition. Something far beyond the casual conversations we'd had before. I felt the world shift slightly, as if saying my name had changed everything. Outside, a car passed slowly along Cedar Street. Sebastian glanced toward the window, then back at me.
"It seems my quiet place isn't so quiet anymore," he said softly.
And for the first time, I realized the moment I had been waiting for the one that would make everything different had finally arrived.