It smelled like the end of a hot day. Stinking and messy, horrible and baked. With the sun going down, the temperature ought to have been relieved of at least a couple degrees of its pungency. But it was still humid, and it was still summer, and it was still Chicago. There would still be mosquitoes, even after dark.

Imogen knew, deep in her bones, that she would miss this horrible little alleyway.

She’d miss the awful way it smelled and the way the breeze picked up at night, taunting her with the idea of cooling off but never actually doing the job properly. Maybe they really had saved Wild Nights. But Wild Nights was also closing, and she’d miss this original spot like a homeland that she knew she could never come back to.

A head poked out of the doorway. “Oh, it’s you.”

It was the girl from earlier. Her expression shifted from curious to delighted. Her hair was lit from behind—from the lights inside the store—giving her a slight glow, gold on the edges of her deep brown waves. “It’s so cold in there. I don’t know how an old building manages to stay air-conditioned in this city.”

“Only at night, when we’ve all sweated our way through the day.” Imogen waved because she was the most awkward human on the planet. “But hi. I was out here with a couple of friends.”

“That’s cool,” said the girl. She was swinging the door back and forth in her hands. It was seesawing and making a tiny screeching noise.

“I’m Imogen, by the way.”

“Olivia,” said the girl with a smile. “But people call me Liv. Or Livy, if they’d like to die earlier.”

The comment didn’t hit Imogen the way she thought it might. She laughed, unlocking another small piece of her sadness. It was still there, but its hold wasn’t as gripping as it usually was.

It was time.

“Olivia—Liv—I’ve got some stuff to finish up out here.”

Liv’s face fell slightly.

“But do you maybe want to come to a dance party on the roof after the signing?”

Liv’s smile returned, full force. “There’s gonna be a dance party on the roof?”

Imogen did her best to steady her breathing. “Yes, ma’am, there is.”

“I’d love to,” she said.

“Cool,” said Imogen. “I’ll be back on the floor in a minute. I think they’re looking for people willing to start packing books into boxes.”

“I’m up for that,” said Liv.

Imogen looked over. Her jacket from this morning was still there. Still in a pile.

Liv caught sight of it. She leaned over and picked it up. “This yours?”

Imogen felt her mouth tugging into a smile. “Nah, I don’t think anyone wants this jacket anymore. You should take it.”