Kyle circled around the far end of the aisle, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He didn't want to approach directly from Leo's line of sight—no need to make the boy more nervous than he already was. The library's layout worked in his favor: tall shelves, angled reading nooks, a mezzanine that cast shadows over the main floor.
He moved like someone who belonged here. Not sneaking, not creeping, just walking. Students glanced up occasionally, then returned to their books. The initial stir of his entrance had faded. He was just another person in a room full of people.
He passed a shelf of Renaissance art monographs, then a display of student sculptures—small bronze pieces mounted on pedestals. And then he saw her.
The corner near the stained-glass window.
