Chapter 1

It was 11:47 PM.

After long hours of reading, Mona closed the book and laid it down on her lap. She took off her reading glasses, rubbed her eyes and had a long stretch before she fell asleep on the armchair at her reading area outside her bedroom.

The weather was cold. Chilly wind blew her shoulder-length hair onto her face and woke her up. Realizing that she didn't close the window in front of her working desk, she immediately stood up to close it. She collected the book which fell down on the floor when she fell asleep and touched its cover. It felt so good to hold a book as books were her only friends. They accompanied her whenever she was lonely and they never complain. Most importantly, books brought her into worlds that she had never been to. She could simply escape into the bookish world whenever she felt needed.

It was 4.44 AM.

She looked at the analog clock on the desk and muttered, it's this time again. Since she moved to Belley a year ago, no matter how tired she was, she woke up exactly at 4.44 AM almost daily. She would always wonder if it was simply her biological clock that caused it or something else. Damn it.

At the age of 42, Mona lived at a small house with 20 minutes walking distance to the nearest commercial area where The Little Bookshop was located. Ever since she moved to this small town with only about seven hundred people, she didn't have a friend or someone she wanted to talk to. Debbie, the single owner of The Little Bookshop hired Mona on goodwill. Mona loved The Little Bookshop because it was quiet, it was full of books and the customers were nicer, sometimes.

It was still very early. She had nowhere to go and not much to do except reading. She stared at one of her bookshelves near the main entrance to her home. There were books that she read a few times, books that she hated, books that she loved and books that she hadn't picked up to read. She glanced at the book she was holding in her hands which she started reading the previous night.

"Is it a good book?"

"Yes, it is. It's as good as The Shadow of the Wind. But I hate it when A.J. talks about his wife and I don't know why. I just hate it," Mona scowled when replied.

"I thought you don't read anything other than historical fiction or classics."

"Oh Ethan, I was tricked by the cover as it looks...classic. I shouldn't judge the book by its cover. And I read almost anything now. Any books that I can immerse myself into the imaginary world of the book."

Ethan walked to the side of Mona and patted on her shoulder. She looked at him and smiled wryly. Her eyes brimmed with sorrow which was stalking her like a second shadow.

"What is it, Mona? Did it happen again?" Ethan asked.

Mona moved away and slotted the book back onto the bookshelf outside her bedroom. With her back facing him, she started to sob.

"Why did they do this to me? What have I done? I didn't and wouldn't harm anyone! All I want is to be left alone! Why wouldn't they leave me alone?" Mona cried and shouted.

"Oh my dear Mona, don't cry. I'll always be with you. If you don't want to be disturbed, come home and I'll be here," said Ethan when he was trying to comfort Mona.

"Yes, home," said Mona. "Ethan, sometimes I don't know my purpose of life. I don't have friends, I don't have a family, I don't have anyone. All I have are these books that do not speak to me."

Ethan's strong arms held Mona tight in an embrace and he whispered into her ears while gently stroking her mane which was turning gray at the temple, "You still have me. I won't leave you no matter what. I'll be here, whenever you need me."

Author's Note

First draft with possible grammatical issues.