By the time your evening shift at the Cedar Grove Public Library began, it had broken over the town in a relentless, drumming downpour. The windows were streaked with rain, turning the streetlights outside into watery smears of gold. The library was empty, the only sounds the hum of fluorescent lights, the patter of rain, and the occasional rustle of pages from the single elderly patron in the history section.

The bell above the front door jangled, a harsh sound against the quiet.

He stumbled in with the wind, a tall man who seemed to fill the doorway before he ducked inside. He was soaked. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, water dripping from the hem of his heavy jacket. He moved with a slight, careful hitch in his step, one hand pressed against his side.

He took a few steps toward the front desk, leaving dark footprints on the polished linoleum. A faint, coppery scent mixed with the smell of wet leather and rain.