Pulling out a book with a pastel-yellow cover that’s decorated with white daisies, she squeals and turns to me, showing it to me. “This is my favorite book,” she tells me. “The same one you told me about during Twenty Questions?” “Mhm,” she nods. “It’s… amazing. Reading it made me feel really happy. Like… Like I was the main character and was experiencing falling in love for the first time.” I take a step forward and grab another copy of the book she’s holding from the shelf, and she cocks a brow in confusion. “What are you doing?” I smile at her. “I’m buying myself a copy to read. I want
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