Page 183 of Problematic

I grabbed my bag from behind the counter and shoved the strap over my shoulder. My fingers brushed the apron hanging there, my sad little polyester armor, and for one stupid second, I wanted to put it on and hide behind coffee orders until my bones stopped shaking.

Sam touched my sleeve. “Where are you going?”

“Bellflower & Bone.” Mrs. Kori. Flowers. Quiet. Work that smelled like soil, stems, old magic, and fewer men making decisions about my life.

Sam frowned. “You are not working another job after this.”

“I need something to do with my hands that doesn’t involve texting him or committing arson.”

Mandi stepped in front of the door. “I support both hobbies, but Sam has a point.”

“I’ll call Mrs. Kori. I won’t be alone.” My voice softened because they had shown up, because they had held me, because I was too raw to fight the people trying to keep me upright. “I love you. Both of you. I need air before I crawl out of my own skin.”

Sam’s eyes searched mine. “Text us when you get there.”

“I will.”

Mandi pointed at me. “Eat the sandwich.”

“I will.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m grieving.”

“That’s not an excuse for missing breakfast.”

Kalon moved away from the door before I reached it. He gave me space.

I stopped beside him with my hand on the lock. “Don’t follow me.”

His throat bobbed. “I won’t.”

“Don’t send anyone else.”

His silence told me enough. My fingers tightened on the lock until metal bit my skin. Kalon’s face shifted with frustration, fear, and something worse. Sympathy. “The city is dangerous,” he said.

“So is he.”

I opened the door. Cold morning air hit my face, the bell gave one tiny cheerful chime above my head, and I stepped outside without turning back.

At the curb, my hands shook as I called Bellflower & Bone. Mrs. Kori picked up on the third ring.

“Bellflower & Bone.”

“Hey, it’s Liv.” My voice came out too bright. Fake bright. Customer-service bright. Woman on-the-edge-of-a-collapse-but-still-willing-to-alphabetize-ribbon bright. “I don’t suppose you need extra help today?”

Mrs. Kori sighed with relief. “Perfect timing, Liv. Sybil called out.”

“Great. I’m on the way.”

I hung up and shoved the phone into my bag before I saw whether Lux had texted.

Had he texted? No. Did I care? Maybe . . .

The city woke around me in pieces. A delivery truck hissed at the curb. Someone laughed too loud outside a bakery. I tugged my collar higher. The mark warmed. “Don’t start,” I muttered.

I crossed at the corner and headed toward the flower district with my bag bumping my hip, my coat crooked, my heart doing something feral and stupid under my ribs.