Madame Auntie smiled. It was not a happy smile or even an ironic smile. It was a smile that laughed at the universe, rather than crying. “My husband died. And I know, I am not supposed to say these things now. My nieces all tell me, it’s not right. But we had an old marriage. A long one. Traditional. He made so many of the decisions. I hadn’t made a decision for myself—on my own—for forty years. I was … oh, what’s that word. It’s a beautiful English word. Untethered. I was untethered.”

Imogen held her breath. And how did you find your mooring again? “Are you still untethered?”

Madame Auntie snorted. A proud expression of a proud woman. “No. My nieces made me go to therapy. Go talk to someone, they said. I hated it. Oh, I hated it. But they were right. It helped. I never told them this—that they were right. But they know, and they are smug about it.”

Imogen laughed despite herself.

Madame Auntie shook her head. “And I found books. So many books. So much sadness and so much grief. But they taught me I was not alone. Told me my suffering was not unique. It was mine, of course. But everyone had their own. Every book was like it was written just for me and my sadness. And to not be alone, that was the important thing. The only thing.”

Imogen nodded. She had nothing to say to that. No other question to offer. No polite ability to laugh away what Madame Auntie had said. And from the look on Madame Auntie’s face, the woman knew it. So Imogen looked back down at the book in her hand. Maybe it wasn’t what she thought it was. Maybe it was just a notebook full of scribbles and sketches. She flipped open to a random page.

And there it was:

In truth the sun does not rise, but Earth

Spins with all her might to bear creation

Imogen dropped the notebook like she’d been burned by it. Auntie leaned over like nothing had happened, handing her back the notebook, telling her to be more careful. Madame Auntie was feeling jumpy enough without books flying around the store. Imogen took the notebook back, not quite knowing why but also knowing she couldn’t leave Madame Auntie there, holding the notebook in the middle of the air, hanging.

Because it turned out, Daniella Korres—the coolest girl in the fucking world—was anachronisticblonde.

And Imogen thought she might throw up.

17

One Wild and Precious Life

1:03 P.M.

Rinn

The worst part about giving this tour of the bookstore was that Rinn could tell that Maya could tell that Rinn had it planned out for weeks.

It was because Rinn had planned this tour for weeks.

“And over here we’ve got the store’s old-school cash register,” said Rinn as she died slowly inside.