Daniel moved like he might grab him, but Greg stepped back fast. “Easy,” Greg said. “You hit me, and all kinds of files start flying to all kinds of inboxes.”
He looked toward the office again and raised his voice just enough for us to hear.
“Mia, your mother kept better records than either of you knew.”
The room tilted.
“What does that mean?” I called before I could stop myself.
Greg laughed softly. “Ask her where the original journal is.”
Mia froze beside me.
Daniel turned his head sharply toward the office door. “Journal.”
Greg’s smile widened. “Oh, she didn’t tell you.”
Mia shook her head, terrified and confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” Greg said gently, almost sweetly, which made it worse. “Your mother told you to keep one thing hidden unless you were in real danger. You’re in real danger now.”
I looked at Mia. “Is he telling the truth?”
Her lips trembled. “There is… there is one more thing.”
Daniel stared at her. “What thing?”
Tears slid down her face. “A red notebook. My mom’s journal. I left it in the locker at the bus station because I was scared to carry everything.”
Greg smiled like a man who had just heard music.
And then from outside the shop came the screech of tires.
All three adults turned toward the window.
A dark car had pulled hard to the curb. The passenger door was already opening.
The passenger door slammed open, and a woman in a dark coat jumped out before the car had even fully stopped.
For one second, I did not recognize her.
Then the streetlight caught her face.
“Amanda,” Mia whispered.
It was her aunt. The same aunt who had let Greg into her life. The same aunt Mia had run away from.
Her hair was messy. Her eyes were red. And she looked less polished than I had imagined from Mia’s stories. More frightened. More human. More broken.
Greg’s smile vanished.
Amanda pointed straight at him. “Do not you dare move.”
Greg laughed once, but it sounded forced. “What is this?”
She reached back into the car and pulled out a cardboard file box, held tight against her chest. Papers stuck out of the top. A red notebook rested on them like a wound.
Mia gasped so hard I thought she might faint. “My mom’s journal.”
Everything changed in that second.
Amanda rushed to the shop door. Daniel opened it before Greg could block her. She came inside breathing hard, clutching the box.
And for one moment, all of us just stared at one another in the warm light of the bookshop.
Greg recovered first. “Amanda, think very carefully.”
“I did,” she shot back. “For the first time in years, I did.”
