Lana shifted in her seat, tapping her fingers lightly against the program booklet. She had been to readings before, had sat in venues like this, listening to authors speak about their craft, their stories, their worlds. But tonight felt different.
It wasn't even her event to attend. Noa had practically shoved the ticket into her hands with an urgency that left no room for argument.
"You're free tonight, aren't you?" Noa had asked.
"That's not the point—"
"Great. Go for me. Get my book signed. You'll thank me later."
There had been something almost mischievous in Noa's tone, but Lana hadn't questioned it. She had agreed, more out of curiosity than anything else.
But now, sitting here, she wasn't sure why.
She glanced at the stage where the author would soon appear. Oryn Moreau. The name was familiar, though she hadn't read his work before.
She sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It was just a reading. Just a book signing. Nothing more.
Then—
"Is this seat taken?"
The voice was smooth, carrying an ease that felt practiced, familiar in a way she couldn't place.
Lana looked up.
A man stood beside her, dressed in dark tones, his presence quiet yet undeniable. His gaze met hers—steady, unreadable, yet holding something beneath the surface.
She hesitated before shaking her head. "No, it's not."
He offered a small nod before lowering himself into the seat beside her.
The room faded around her for a moment. There was something about him—the way he carried himself, the way he settled into the chair as if he belonged there.
And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had met him before.
Except she knew she hadn't.
Lana turned back toward the stage, trying to focus.
The lights dimmed slightly. The murmurs of the audience softened.
And then, when the host stepped onto the stage and introduced the author, her breath caught.
Because the man beside her—the stranger who had taken the empty seat—stood up, stepped into the light, and took his place behind the microphone.
Oryn Moreau.
Lana felt her fingers tighten around the booklet in her lap and the book she's to get signed titles Whispers in Paper.
Beside her, the chair he had left behind was still warm.