The fluorescent lights of the library felt like an interrogation. Every time the double doors creaked open, my heart did a frantic somersault against my ribs, expecting to see Principal Miller holding a disciplinary slip and a disappointed scowl. But it had been four days, and the silence from the administration was deafening.
Mark had handled it... how, I didn’t know. He’d disappeared into the shadows that night, and ten minutes later, he’d texted me: “All clear. Go home, Pat. See you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow had turned into a week of agonizing, professional distance. I was currently shelving a return stack in "Periodicals," my fingers tracing the spines with zero focus. My skin felt too tight for my cardigan. Every time I caught a whiff of sandalwood or heard a heavy footfall in the hallway
