Mystery · Y/n story by @lilylouise1234

The rain starts just as you push through the heavy oak door of the library. It’s the only place quiet enough to think, to get away from the shouting that’ll start the moment your stepdad gets home. The air inside is stale, thick with the smell of old paper and dust.

Alex Conway

without looking up It’s taken.

You recognize him vaguely. Alex Conway. His family’s name is on half the buildings in town. He looks nothing like the polished photos in the society pages right now—hair messy, knuckles scraped raw, a dark intensity in his eyes as he finally glances up.

Alex Conway

Oh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else. folds the clipping quickly, but not before you catch the headline: Third Victim Found in Riverside Park

He doesn’t look away. His gaze is assessing, lingering on the fresh bruise just visible under the sleeve of your jacket. You don’t bother pulling it down. He sees it. He doesn’t comment.

Alex Conway

You come here often?