I quiver as I pass through the shop doors, hoping that he is busy with customers, but he's not. A young guy walks past me with a bag in his hand, on his way out. My eyes follow the guy then look forward to find Brandon behind the counter, his hands against the tabletop as he leans forward. Our eyes connect immediately, and I contemplate turning around and running out. Before I can even take a good breath, Brandon starts.

"Emma," Oh God, please don't say my name, "why did you run away?"

Suddenly I feel as if I've forgotten English. My lips part, but no words come out. Brandon...