VISION ✔️ || The Keepers of Astraela #1

1.0 || Of Coffee and Donut Holes

EVA

MOST DAYS MADE EVA FEEL like she was on top of the world. Others hit her like nine hardcover novels to the face.

Literally.

One moment, she had balanced herself on a rickety folding chair in the Havenwood Public Library's study room, defying gravity itself as she pulled a series of fantasy novels from the highest shelf. The next, all nine volumes flew at her face with the velocity of an explosive spell and sent her tumbling to the carpet with a thud.

As she lay sprawled on the ground with her favorite childhood books splayed in every direction, she met the concerned gaze of the ten-year-old boy hovering over her. She wanted to tell him the novels were enchanted by the malicious wizard in their pages—or, perhaps, she could have blamed the fumble on klutzy genes and a fair amount of bad luck. Any of those reasons would have been less embarrassing than admitting she'd dropped the stack while lost in a vivid daydream.

"Miss Hayle?" the boy asked, putting his hands on his knees as he bent down to examine her non-existent wounds. "Are you all right? Should I call an ambulance—"

"No, no, no." Eva sat up frantically and winced at the sharp pain sparking from her tailbone. "I just got... uh, woozy. That's all."

Turning to face the disaster of half-open books, she shoved each one into the boy's cardboard box before handing it back to him. He blinked in surprise at the weight in his hands.

"Isn't that kinda serious?" he said.

The way he stared into Eva's soul told her he wouldn't give up on the subject anytime soon. In fact, she was certain he would return in two months, buried in late fees that he would try paying off with the last two quarters from his allowance, and question her well-being again while she overrode the computer system so he could return the books at no cost. It was an eternal merry-go-round of debt and bartering, but one she couldn't help but forgive.

Eva racked her brain for an excuse. "Just a blood sugar thing. Nothing to worry about."

For a moment, she was convinced the young boy would stare her down until the library closed. His eyes bore into hers for the longest time before he nodded, seemingly satisfied with the fibbed response. After grinning down at his latest literary trove, he spun around and jaunted toward the circulation desk with a box almost bigger than himself.

The hushed tones of the library returned while she stood, patting her head to catch any auburn flyaways that had slipped from her French twist in the fall. She tucked the strands behind her ear and prayed no one would notice before she could scurry to the bathroom to secure them.

Trudging back down the aisle, Eva returned to where she had abandoned her library cart to help the boy retrieve his desired books. A stack of brand-new editions stared back, taunting her with their new book smell and unbent dust jackets. It had been months since they'd gotten clearance to buy such a large shipment, but while fresh reading material filled her with excitement, shelving each volume was draining.

She had no patience for something so mundane. Not that hour, not that day, and certainly not that entire week—which was why two carts had remained behind the circulation desk until the last possible moment, untouched and collecting dust. Mindless organization made Eva sneer on a good day, let alone when she'd much rather have been doing something else.

And on a good day, with her brain working in proper order, she would have heard footsteps approaching as she grabbed the cart handle.

"A blood sugar thing?"

The teasing voice nearly jolted her out of her skin. She whipped around to find herself staring up at a tall man, whose arms were crammed with two cups of coffee and a box of fresh donut holes. His cerulean eyes brimmed with mischief.