Page 3 of As the World Falls

“My bones should be ash by this Friday,” I respond tiredly.

“You could always come back and work?—”

“I don’t work for anyone,” I cut in.

“I was going to say by my side, James. You should know better than anyone that I would share my empire with you. I have before,” he reminds me.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you know how I feel about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Big solo man wants to rule the world,” he says teasingly.

“We both know you control nearly the entire city, Stef. I just needed my sliver of it.”

“Well, if your sliver ever gets to be unfulfilling, I have a whole damn cake just waiting for you. Say the word, and I’ll take you back, brother.”

I swallow down the laugh that wants to come out of me. “I think I’m good. Besides, my slice got much bigger now that I brought Tobias Bowen in.”

“He’s a good one. That was a smart move. You work yourself too hard.”

“Says the guy who works himself into near death every day.”

“Don’t act like what you do is any less dangerous.”

“Just on the weekends, mostly.”

He scoffs. “Coward.”

“We can’t all snap necks on the regular like you, Stef.”

“Yeah, on that note, I’ll catch you later. My next meeting has just arrived, and I need to get my kit ready.”

My stomach jumps at the reminder of his kit and what he does with the instruments inside of it. “Sounds fun.”

I can hear his grin as he says, “It will be,” before hanging up the phone.

I lay back in my chair, sighing as I saw it was only a little after noon. I was utterly exhausted today. They never tell you that when you have it all, you have everything except the one thing you thought having it all would finally bring you.

Peace.

Chapter Two

Cecilia

I loved fall.

It is my favorite time of year. It meant chilly breezes, thunderstorms, and vivid leaves on the trees. It was mesmerizing when the sun was out, and bright red and orange leaves fell from the sky around you while the air felt crisp. I also loved dark grey thunderstorms that make you want to light a candle and cozy up to a book, which is precisely what I planned on doing today in the library, where I just so happened also to work.

I walk into the library, hang my raincoat on the rack by the door, and strut to my desk. I never get tired of the smell every time I walk in here. It smelled like dusty pages, coffee from the coffee bar, and vanilla from the candle I kept on the main desk. It is the perfect combination of scents.

I clock into work and begin my day, doing the same thing I’ve done the last four years since working here. I was twenty years old when I first got hired as a simple bookkeeper, and now that I’m twenty-four, I am the librarian and run the place with the help of my bookkeeper and best friend, Lance.

It was the oldest library in Boston, sitting high like a castle made of old grey stone and brick. Its name, Stone Corridor, fits perfectly, in my opinion. The only new thing about the place was its restructured entry doors and windows that we had installed to look a little more modern and inviting for the outside world to see into and see we were, in fact, an up-and-operating library and not some old, haunted castle. I felt like I should be dressed as a medieval princess every time I came to work just to fit the aesthetic of the old building and its endless maze of books inside. It had two floors, but the upstairs was only used for events and clubs. I used to get lost inside when I started working here, but now I have it figured out to a T.

I ran my hands down the denim blue skirt I wore, which I paired with some black tights and a neon rainbow-striped sweater that hung perfectly off my left shoulder. I then pick up the first stack of books on my desk that were all returned last night and begin putting them away where they belonged. I had a system I liked to do. I would log all returned books onto my computer at the end of the night, and then the following morning, I would put them all back. I liked starting my mornings with a little more strenuous activity rather than just sitting behind my desk, or I would be a sleepwalker the rest of the day.

“Good morning,” Lance beams as I walk past him in the sci-fi section, where I notice he suspiciously spends much of his time. He had a thing for spaceships, the big nerd. “I just came from the coffee bar,” he tells me, handing me one of two cups. “One coffee with a sickening amount of Thin Mint coffee creamer.” I smile gratefully as I take the cup from him like we do almost every morning. He knows how I like my coffee like the back of his hand and never fails to have it ready for me as soon as I set foot through the door.

“Thank you.” I take a giant gulp of it, letting the minty chocolate do its thing and awaken my soul for the day. “How’s it going?”

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