The bookstore hadn't changed—not really. Dust still collected in the corners of the tall wooden shelves, and the bell above the door still gave its little chime every time someone walked in. Raine had kept it that way on purpose. Routine made the silence bearable.
Celeste's favorite corner remained untouched: the velvet armchair by the poetry shelves, still angled perfectly toward the window where the sunlight used to fall in lazy ribbons. Sometimes Raine would find herself glancing over, half-expecting to see Celeste curled up with a book, hair tumbling like ink over one shoulder, humming a forgotten tune.
She never said she loved Raine—not with words. But in glances. In the way she lingered in the store after closing, sipping tea in silence. In how her fingertips brushed Raine's hand just a second too long when passing her a book.
And then she was gone. An illness that came in quietly and left with everything. Raine hadn't been the same since. The letter Celeste left behind was tucked in the first edition of Leaves of Grass, hidden like a secret between poetry and grief.
Raine had read it a hundred times, but her fingers still trembled each time.
"You were the one place I could breathe. If I leave before you ever hear me say it out loud... know this—I always did love you. In every note I ever sang. In every glance I didn't let stay too long."
Then the bell rang.
Raine barely looked up from the counter. Just another customer, probably searching for something obscure and dusty. But when she did glance up—
Time cracked.
Standing in the doorway was someone soaked in rain, a scarf clinging to her neck, her hair curled and dripping. But her eyes—those eyes—they made Raine's heart clench so hard she had to grip the edge of the counter.
It wasn't just that she looked like Celeste.
She was Celeste.
No, not possible. This girl's posture was more open, her expression brighter, less weighed down by unspoken things. But the resemblance was terrifying.
She walked in slowly, brows raised slightly at the walls of books. Raine's breath was stuck somewhere between her lungs and disbelief.
The girl turned toward the counter and offered a soft smile. "Hi… do you have any books on vintage music sheets?"
Music.
Raine stared, wide-eyed. "Music sheets?"
The girl nodded. "Yeah. I'm kind of obsessed with collecting old compositions. I just moved here… this bookstore came up on my search. It's beautiful."
Raine swallowed hard. She could barely keep her voice steady. "What's your name?"
She tilted her head slightly, removing her scarf. "Seraphina."
A strange quiet filled the room, louder than the rain outside.
Seraphina smiled again, oblivious to the storm she'd just awakened. "Sorry, is that weird to ask for? Music sheets?"
Raine didn't answer right away. Instead, she stepped out from behind the counter and motioned toward the back shelves.
"Follow me. I think I have something you'll want to see."
But as they walked deeper into the aisles, her mind whispered the name again and again—Celeste… Celeste…
The melody hadn't ended after all.
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