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His name is Luke. But nobody here knows that. He was an iconic musician before he gave up music. But nobody knows that either.
They also don’t know he’s twenty-seven, that he used to have an infectious laugh, and he’s way too young to be widowed. They certainly don’t know the rest of his tragic story.
All they know is that he comes into their café at the same time every morning and stares at the same empty chair at the same table. They know he’s strange. They know he interrupts their breakfast with a cold blast of air as he hovers in the doorway, mustering the courage to confront a piece of furniture.
No one asks why. No one cares.
He’s fine with that. He’s done with life. This isn’t even his story anymore.
It’s mine. I'm Callie Roland, the young writer who sat in his chair one day.
Please note that this book addresses depression, anxiety, and suicide in a compassionate, realistic manner. For a full list of content notices please visit my website. Night Shifts Black can be read as a standalone, but the story continues in Tracing Holland.
