Mare Barrow Novels & Stories

It had worked. By the time his shift ended, rain threatened again. The sky pressed low and gray, the air thick. Jamie checked the time and sighed, he was early for Bar Della Luna. He considered sitting somewhere else. Anywhere else. He went anyway. The bar smelled like citrus and wood polish when he walked in. Mara was already there, tying her apron. “You look tired,” she said. “I am.” She studied him. “You always are but this is different.” Jamie shrugged. “Midterms.” Mara did not look convinced. “If someone is bothering you here…”