After rising to our feet, we part ways, and I read the names of the sections, trying to forget about Jacob Griffin and wondering what kind of books Audrey likes to read based on what I know about her. Judging by her thoughts on her relationship with Parker, I get the feeling she’s a hopeless romantic. But, considering the breakup, maybe she doesn’t want to read about that. Something the polar opposite might be better, with lots of action and excitement.

I wander over to the section that includes the staff’s favorite books. Most of them are classic books that sound familiar, and after reading all the summaries, I decide on Gone Girl. Maybe a captivating thriller will be enough to take her mind off everything.

Tucking the book to my chest, I meander through the store, trying to locate my sister again. I’m rounding the corner of the cookbook section when I nearly ram into someone else, causing me to stop short.

“Hello, Allie.”

Officer Edwards stands before me, a placid look on his face. His demeanor feels different than it was the last time we spoke, as if some of his friendliness has melted off the surface, revealing an uglier side lingering just beneath.

The bookstore is stuffy, suddenly a lot smaller than it was only minutes ago, and I listen for Audrey, trying to summon her.

“Hi,” I return, taking a slow, subtle step back.

“It’s nice to see you again,” he continues, voice light. “We didn’t get a proper chance to talk last time.”

“I should probably find my sister.”

Edwards tilts his head, ignoring my apprehension. “How’s school going? Are you keeping up with your classes?”

“Yes,” I say shortly, looking over his shoulder. Sofia’s stern warning comes to me all at once. Don’t ever talk to them alone. In this part of the store, I can’t even see the clerk anymore, and it makes me feel like the towering bookcases are steadily creeping closer.

“I heard you had a birthday recently,” he continues, placing his hands on his hips, and his badge gleams in the sliver of sunlight that creeps into the building. “It seems like you’re doing well.”

“I’m okay.”

“You know, you and I used to see a lot of each other.” His tone shifts again, sharper now, and goose bumps rise on my arms. I say nothing, keeping my mouth firmly clamped shut. “You and your friends had a penchant for getting into all kinds of trouble. Somehow your mother was always able to get you out of it.” He pauses. “But she’s not here now, is she?”

I stiffen at the thinly veiled threat and clutch the book tighter. “I’m not sure what you’re saying, Officer,” I tell him, working to keep my voice steady.