Chapter 8
Daniel’s rented SUV crunched to a halt on the gravel parking lot of Harbor Books & Coffee just as the late afternoon shadows lengthened across the street. He turned off the ignition, sitting in total silence for several seconds while staring up at the second-floor windows of the weathered building. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, every instinct screaming that his search had finally reached its destination.
He stepped out of the vehicle, pulling his damp jacket tight against the chill as he walked toward the front entrance with deliberate, heavy strides. The small brass bell chimed overhead as he pushed the door open, stepping into a warm, quiet sanctuary filled with towering bookshelves. Sarah emerged from the back aisle holding a stack of maritime history volumes, freezing dead in her tracks as she saw who walked in.
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"Where is she, Sarah? I know she's here, and I'm not leaving without talking to my wife," Daniel demanded, his voice thick with exhaustion and desperate plea. Sarah slowly set the books down on a nearby table, crossing her arms over her chest with a glare that could melt steel. "Your wife spent seven years being invisible to you, Daniel, and now that she's finally found peace, you have the nerve to hunt her down?" Sarah challenged fiercely.
Before Daniel could answer, a soft creaking sound echoed from the top of the interior wooden staircase leading to the private loft apartment. Daniel’s head snapped upward instantly, his breath catching in his throat as a familiar shadow flickered against the warm hallway light. He took two steps toward the stairs, his eyes locked on the landing where Amy stood frozen like a phantom from his past.
