He didn't have to search long.
There it was—
The same black leather-bound book. Old. Worn. Silent.
It had slipped from the shelf earlier, right when he was reaching for The Brothers Karamazov.
Like it wanted to be found.
Leonard picked it up slowly. It felt cold in his hands—colder than it should.
"No title," he whispered. "Still the same…"
He hesitated, then tucked it back onto the shelf—off to the side, so he wouldn't forget.
There were more pressing things.
He returned with the book the man had asked for.
"Here you go. The Brothers Karamazov, as promised. Need anything else?"
"No… Just this one."
"Alright. Head to the register—Liam'll take care of it. Sorry to ask, but… what's your name?"
The man paused.
"Dante," he said. Then his eyes flicked to Leonard's name tag. "And yours is Leonard, I assume."
"That's me. Nice meeting you, Dante. Take care."
Dante nodded once and walked off, the book tucked under his arm.
Leonard stood there for a moment, strangely unsettled.
Why did he care about that man's name? Why now?
Something told him they'd cross paths again.
The store emptied. The sky outside deepened into early night.
His shift was done.
But he wasn't ready to leave.
Instead, he drifted back to the used-book section.
And found it.
The black book. Still waiting.
Leonard lifted it again, carefully. The leather creaked faintly beneath his fingers.
A breeze stirred the air—sharp and cold, though the windows were shut.
He shivered. Then slid the book into the front pocket of his apron.
At the register, Theo was still scribbling notes under the glow of the monitor.
"Hey, Theo. Found this weird book… No price tag. Think it got skipped during inventory. Can you check the system?"
Theo reached out and flipped the book over, scanning the back.
"Yeah… this is weird. There's a barcode, but it's not in the database. No title, no author. And it doesn't look like the cover was removed—it looks like it never had one."
"So… can I still take it?"
Leonard didn't even realize how still he'd become until Theo looked up at him.
"Honestly? Yeah. Take it. It's not in the system, the condition's crap, and management won't care."
"Thanks. Mind bagging it? Easier to carry."
"Go get changed—I'll wrap it up."
Leonard changed quickly, picked up the paper bag at the front, and stepped out into the cold.
Snow cracked under his boots. The crescent moon floated above like a half-drawn sigh.
When he reached the apartment, a soft light glowed through the window.
James was home.
Relieved, Leonard stepped inside and was met with the warmth of familiarity: the soft scent of home, the creak of the floor, the scratchy couch.
James sat studying on the sofa, back slightly hunched. Leonard didn't interrupt.
He went upstairs and placed the bag gently on the shared nightstand.
Then headed for the shower.
Hot water poured over him, but it couldn't melt the weight in his chest.
"I still need to make dinner… and prep lunch for tomorrow."
He didn't waste time.
Dinner was simple.
Three lunchboxes were packed while the TV murmured in the background—news about megacorps and people with powers who would never know this kind of exhaustion.
"It's always about the strong," Leonard muttered. "And the rest of us? We disappear between the cracks."
The silence that followed was long. Then James spoke, voice soft.
"Any word from Mom? Is she almost back?"
The question hit like a blade.
He didn't answer right away.
She hadn't called. She hadn't messaged. She hadn't cared.
But the truth would break James. And Leonard couldn't do that to him.
"She called," he lied gently. "Said the trip's taking longer than expected. Work stuff."
James nodded, looking down. "Okay…"
Leonard reached over and ruffled his hair. "You've got school tomorrow. Time for bed."
"Alright, big bro!"
James hopped off the couch and headed to brush his teeth.
Alone, Leonard turned off the TV. His reflection stared back at him in the blank screen.
"How do I look him in the eyes when I keep hiding the truth?
You did this, Sophie.
You left."
His fists clenched.
Then slowly loosened.
Calli came home just before midnight. Barely said a word. Just dropped his bag and disappeared into the room.
The house quieted.
Leonard checked the locks, shut off the lights, and lay down.
For once, sleep came easily.
He didn't know that tonight, sleep would be the most dangerous place in the world.
He held the black book again, the leather cold beneath his fingers. It felt alive, as if it were breathing, waiting for the moment it would finally be opened.