“I’m going to dive right in as soon as I get these monsters to bed. A book and a glass of wine are the perfect antidote for a nasty winter night.” She looked around the shop. “I always envied you, living here,” she said. “Surrounded by all these books.”

The kids started whining again and tugging her toward the door. “Stay single,” she admonished. “Trust me, you’ll live longer.”

Years ago, Natalie had pictured Kayla Cramer living some kind of fabulous, carefree life. And apparently Kayla had envied her. Natalie remembered one of her mother’s favorite quotes from Anaïs Nin’s memoir, which had a permanent spot on the W.O.W. shelf: “We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

A few minutes later, Dorothy Gallagher came in on a swirl of cold wind. Her cheeks were bright red, and she smiled as she pushed back her hood.

Natalie’s pulse raced with anticipation. If Dorothy was here, that meant Peach wasn’t far behind. Maybe he’d stop in to pick her up. Down, girl.

“Hi there, kiddo,” she said to the little girl. “Nice to see you.”

“Hiya.” Dorothy unzipped her jacket. “I need a birthday present. Whitney Gaines from my class invited me to her party.”

“What sort of book do you think she would like?”

Dorothy gave a dainty sniff. “Probably no book at all, unless it’s about trying on clothes and having a boyfriend. That’s all she and her friends care about. The only reason she invited me is that the teacher has a rule that you have to invite the whole class or you can’t pass out your invitations at school.” Dorothy attended an ultra-exclusive private school called The Enclave—her mother’s choice, according to Peach. It was known for its sky-high tuition, its STEM program for girls—and its veiled but undeniable snobbery.

Suddenly the picture came into focus for Natalie. “I see,” she said. “So do you want to go to your friend’s party?”

Dorothy shrugged. “My mom thinks I should go on account of she expects me to get along with all my classmates and not be the odd one out.”

“Probably a good idea,” Natalie said. “But it’s hard to make yourself do something you don’t want to do.” Like taking over a failing bookstore. Like ignoring your feelings for a guy. Like having your grandfather declared incompetent.

Dorothy nodded glumly.

“When I was your age I felt like the odd one out a lot of the time,” said Natalie.

“You did?” Dorothy’s eyes widened.

“Totally. I had kind of an unusual family. It was just me and my mom, and we lived upstairs with my grandfather and his girlfriend, who was Chinese. Most of my friends had both parents and they lived in big houses with yards and garages, not apartments above a shop.”