Nora's POV
A flashlight beam sweeps across the bookshelf six inches from my face, and the blood in my body goes cold.
I’m crouched between two shelves in the back corner of the university library. The library closed at midnight. It is now 3 am.
I’ve been doing this every finals week since sophomore year — hiding in the back stacks until they lock up, studying in the kind of silence you can’t get anywhere else on campus. I have never once been caught.
Until tonight.
The flashlight finds me. I throw my hand up to block the glare and squint into the beam. My jaw drops instantly.
The man holding it is not the old security guard who usually patrols. That guy is sixty and already half-asleep by 1 am. This man is young, probably late twenties, and the first thing my brain registers is that
