After Darcy felt better, they slipped into the bookstore. Once inside, the warm scent of paper and ink enveloped them.
Micah sank onto a couch in the middle of the shop, letting Darcy wander off toward the shelves. He was angry at himself. How could he have accepted something connected to Archie so easily? Worse, he had made Darcy sick because of it.
He pulled up his phone, intending to fire off some curses to Russell and Archie, demanding they never get near him again. But the moment he opened his phone, the glare of +99 messages on that ominous app made him pause. He opened it gingerly, taking a look at the chatroom. He gasped, feeling his soul had been sucked out.
That damn app!
