Chapter 1 — Pharmacy Routine

Sophia

The soft chime of the doorbell rang through the pharmacy, a sound so familiar it barely registered with Sophia Lennox anymore. She stood behind the counter, her hands moving methodically as she restocked a row of amber prescription bottles, their labels perfectly aligned. The faint scent of eucalyptus and lavender hung in the air, mingling with the low murmur of conversation between customers browsing the shelves. Outside, the late summer sunlight filtered through the cream-painted windows, casting warm golden streaks on the polished wooden floor. It was a routine day, predictable as ever—steady and comforting in its familiarity, like the rhythm of her own breath.

"Morning, Sophia!" Mrs. Barton’s cheerful voice broke through the hum of her thoughts, pulling Sophia’s attention sharply back to the present. She looked up and offered the elderly woman a practiced smile, warm but carefully restrained.

“Good morning, Mrs. Barton. Picking up your joint medication?” Sophia asked, already reaching for the small paper bag she’d prepared earlier.

Mrs. Barton nodded, her blue eyes sparkling with the kind of easy optimism that always made Sophia a little envious. “That’s right, dear. You know, the fair’s coming up next month—the best part of the season! Everyone will be there. You really should come along this year. It’ll do you good to get out and enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sophia replied automatically, handing over the bag with steady hands. She didn’t mention that the thought of attending the fair—with its crowds, noise, and the chance of running into people she’d rather avoid—made her stomach twist. Her smile didn’t falter, though, and Mrs. Barton seemed satisfied as she waved and headed for the door.

As the bell above the entrance chimed behind her, Sophia exhaled quietly, letting the practiced smile slip from her face. It wasn’t that she didn’t care for the town or its people—if anything, she cared too much. But the stability of her work had become her shield, an anchor that kept her afloat in the aftermath of the chaos her life had once become.

She returned to the counter, her hands moving instinctively to straighten receipts that didn’t really need straightening. Routine, she reminded herself. Routine was safe.

The bell chimed again, sharper this time, cutting through the quiet rhythm of the pharmacy. Sophia turned just as a tall figure stepped into the room, his broad shoulders momentarily framed by the sunlight streaming through the open door. He removed his sunglasses, revealing intense blue eyes that scanned the space with quiet precision.

“Hi,” he said, his voice warm but low, like the first crackle of a fire catching kindling. “I’m here to pick up a prescription for Margaret Mercer.”

Sophia blinked, her brain scrambling to place the unexpected figure before her. Caleb Mercer. She recognized him—of course she did. Everyone in town knew Caleb Mercer, one of the local firefighters. But she couldn’t recall ever speaking to him directly, and the suddenness of his presence unsettled the rhythm she carefully maintained throughout her day.

“Of course,” she said, her voice cool and professional as she turned to the computer. Her fingers hovered over the keys for half a second longer than usual before she began typing in his mother’s name. “It’s blood pressure medication, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he confirmed, leaning slightly against the counter. The faint scent of smoke and leather clung to him, and Sophia found herself pausing as she printed the label.

“She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t make it herself,” Caleb added. “She’s finishing up some gardening before the weather turns.”

Sophia nodded, retrieving the prescription bag and placing it on the counter between them. “That’s understandable,” she said, keeping her tone light. “Tell her to make sure she takes these with food.”

“I’ll remind her,” Caleb replied with a small smile, his gaze drifting briefly to the meticulously organized shelves behind her. “You’ve done a great job with this place—it’s got a real personal touch to it.”

The comment caught Sophia off guard. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way he said them, with a genuine warmth that seemed to reach past her carefully maintained barriers. Her fingers brushed the edges of the receipt pile again, fidgeting in a way that annoyed her.

“Thanks,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter than she intended. “I try to keep things organized.”

Caleb nodded, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. “How much do I owe you?”

Sophia told him the amount, and he handed over the cash without hesitation. As she counted out his change, she became acutely aware of his presence—the steadiness in the way he waited, the faint crease in his brow as though he were lost in thought. She slid the bills across the counter to him, her fingertips brushing the edge of his hand for the briefest moment before she quickly pulled back.

“Thanks,” he said, picking up the prescription bag. But instead of leaving immediately, he hesitated, his head tilting slightly as he looked at her. “You’ve lived here your whole life, haven’t you?”

Sophia’s brow furrowed faintly, the question catching her off guard. “Yes,” she admitted after a pause. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering,” he said with a shrug, his tone casual but thoughtful. “Sometimes it feels like everyone in this town knows each other, but I guess we’ve never really crossed paths much before.”

Her lips curved into a faint, polite smile. “Well, I suppose that’s the way it goes. Different circles and all.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Caleb said, though his tone carried a note of curiosity she wasn’t sure how to interpret. He glanced toward the door, then back at her. “It was nice meeting you, Sophia.”

“You too,” she replied, her voice softer than before.

And then he was gone, the soft chime of the bell marking his departure as he stepped back into the sunlight.

For a moment, Sophia stood rooted in place, her gaze lingering on the door longer than necessary. There had been something about him—something steady and unassuming, yet undeniably present. She shook her head, brushing off the thought as she turned back to the shelves. Just another customer, she told herself. Just another day.

The routine of the afternoon settled around her again, but it felt slightly off-kilter, as though the rhythm she relied on had shifted in some small, imperceptible way.

By the time evening rolled around, and she finally locked the pharmacy doors, the weight of her solitude pressed in once more. It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly—just familiar, like an old coat she couldn’t quite bring herself to take off.

As she walked to her car, cobblestones clicking softly beneath her sensible shoes, Sophia’s hand drifted almost unconsciously to the silver locket around her neck. Her fingers traced the intricate vine engraving as the cool metal pressed against her skin, its weight a small, solid comfort. Her mother had given it to her as a reminder of family, of roots—but tonight, it felt like something else. A tether, maybe. Or an anchor.

She paused by her car, her eyes drifting toward the quiet street, where the shadows of the evening stretched long and lean. The town had always been her anchor, its routines and familiarity a balm to the storm that had once upended her life. But today, for the first time in a long time, she felt a shift—small and fleeting, like the first breath of wind before a storm.

Sophia shook her head, brushing the thought aside as she climbed into her car. The engine hummed softly to life, filling the silence.

But as she drove home, Caleb Mercer’s easy smile and measured gaze lingered stubbornly in her mind, a quiet presence she couldn’t quite push away.