Page 37 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

A crate of hardcover books sat beside her that she was arranging onto a shelf. Chewing loudly on a piece of gum, her eyes turned round with delight when she caught sight of Loki.

“Oh, what an adorable dog!”

“Is it OK for him to be in here?” Jane hadn’t seen any signs saying otherwise, but it was always better to check these things.

“Of course! We love all pets here. Are you looking for anything special?”

“Just browsing.” It was true. Having seen the selection on display, she had the urge to peruse the aisles. Maybe she’d be able to find information on her condition. Failing that, she might at least recognize some of the titles on the shelves. That would give her some sense that she had been in this world before.

“Everything’s pretty clearly signposted. If you need any help, give me a shout.” She blew a bubble with her gum, then went back to stocking the shelf.

Jane looked down at Loki, sniffing the corners of a large pyramid created entirely of the latest bestsellers, and whispered nervously, “Do not have any accidents in here.”

He looked up, those icy-blue eyes of his trying to understand her words. The expression on his face was so comical, she had to stroke him, which of course, led to a round of tail-wagging that almost toppled the display.

She dragged him toward the non-fiction section.

Names and faces peered out from the covers. Smiling faces with positive titles such as “Living Your Best Life,” and “From Rags to Riches.” Jane recognized one of the authors as the celebrity chef, Mason Wild. His current hit “Cooking Your Way To A Better Life” was being turned into a movie, a gold banner across the top of the cover exclaimed. Jane had to hide a laugh.

Only in Hollywood would a chef’s memoir be made into a movie.

Her eyes scanned over the book covers. Some she recognized, though she couldn’t recall having ever read any of the books.

That familiar sense of frustration was starting to rear its ugly head. She crossed into the psychology section and picked up a book about memory loss, though the headings might as well have been written in Chinese, filled with scientific terms that went straight over her head.

Loki whined, which she took for his way of saying they should try another section.

“Good idea.”

She found herself by the new releases.

Glossy titles with impactful covers competed for attention. Thrillers seemed popular — a majority of the books depicted people being hunted or chased.

None of those appealed. Ignoring the books with the loudest, noisiest covers, her eyes found their way to a book half hidden behind a tall pile, almost as if it was there as an after thought.

A silhouette of a man in a wheelchair looked out over an orange horizon as two young children were torn away from his desperate hands.

Even though she hadn’t wanted anything sad or stressful, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from that image. There was something so powerful about it, that she found herself reaching for the book and turning it over to read the synopsis.

The book was based on a true story and was about an ex-army vet who, crippled by a war he didn’t believe in but fought for anyway, came home only to find himself in a battle of a different kind when his wife dies in an accident leaving him to fight the state for custody of his two children.

My Blood, My Right, was the debut novel of a young author whose grandfather was the vet in question. She opened the book.

The words leaped out at her, hard-hitting and descriptive, yet filled with a poetry that sent her emotions into a tailspin.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, reading the book. bored with the store by now, Loki had curled up by her feet and was quietly playing with his chew toy. Every now and then it squeaked, but even that didn’t draw her attention from the story.

“I’ve heard that’s a good book.”

Jane looked up. Her eyes had to take a moment to adjust to Prom Queen.

“Haven’t read it myself. It’s not really my thing, depressing stories. Who wants to read about sad people, right?”

Jane didn’t know how to answer since apparently, she was one of those people the girl didn’t want to know about.

“Do you want me to ring that up for you?”

Having noticed how long Jane had been reading for free, this was her way of asking her to pay or giving her a gentle nudge to leave the premises. It wasn’t a library after all.

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