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Reluctantly, Jamie turned to face her. Lila carried the Emily Dickinson book in her hands as she approached, then held it out to Jamie.

“Go on, then. Start reading more.”

Jamie took it, however reluctantly. The moment her fingers brushed the hard cover, warmth spread from her hand down to the tips of her toes. She barely held back a gasp at the sensation. She forced her eyes back to Lila’s face.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” Lila said with a nod. “Besides, I need some assurance that you’ll be back.”

Jamie’s mouth twitched up, threatening a smile. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“I hope you enjoy it. I’m really looking forward to hearing your thoughts.”

Jamie swallowed, nodded, and swept from the room before anything else could be said.

The next day, as Jamie was getting ready for training, her phone rang with her father’s special ringtone. After tying off her plait, she answered.

“Hello?”

“How’d it go yesterday?” he asked quickly. “With the therapist woman?”

Jamie chewed her lip, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Fine.”

“What did you talk about?”

She stiffened. Did he truly not know? “It was basic stuff. Y’know, where I grew up, what the family was like. All that.”

“Good, good.” He paused for an extended beat. “Nothing more specific?”

Her stomach lurched. Maybe he did know. “Specific how?”

“Jesus, Jamie, the reason I sent you there in the first place. Switching clubs suddenly, abandoning your contract? Did you get that sorted?”

She blinked. He didn’t know. If he did, he’d have mentioned it by now. And his line of questioning combined with his frustration, led Jamie to believe he’d already called Lila and had been told she wouldn’t say.

“Sorted?” she asked.

“All the mental stuff. Is it done?”

Her fingers found the book, tracing the author’s name with her nail. It still gave her a tingle every time she touched it.

“Actually, Dad, I think I’m going to need a few more sessions.”

Chapter 7

Tessa darted across the street at Cecil Court, flipping off the disgruntled driver blaring his horn as she narrowly avoided his front bumper. Her eyes remained on her fellow vintage enthusiasts gathered at the entryway of the side street that was Bookseller’s Row. As she approached, she caught her breath before offering her excuses.

“Sorry I’m late,” she panted. “I ran from the tube station.”

“No worries,” her friend Lottie replied. “We haven’t gotten started yet, anyway.”

“Grand so.”

She greeted the others and was surprised to come across a new face. A young woman with bubblegum pink hair cut into a stylish pixie, pale skin, and deep blue eyes. Her makeup was glowy and fresh, enhancing her soft cheeks and wide smile. Her eyes lingered on Tessa a moment longer than they did everyone else.

“Tess, this is Skylar,” Lottie said. “She’s just moved back to London after studying in Germany for. . . what was it, two years? Three?”

“Two and some change,” Skylar said with a shrug. “What can I say? Munich is fantastic. So much culture.”