Lucy gripped the pen. She thought of her boss, who took credit for her work. She thought of her mother, who insisted she marry the local dentist. She thought of the beige walls of her apartment.
When Lucy walked out of the hidden alley, the sun was setting, turning the sky a chaotic, beautiful shade of orange. She didn't go home to prep her salad for Wednesday. Instead, she walked into the local boutique, bought the brightest red scarf they had, and booked a one-way flight to London on her phone while standing on the sidewalk. A Nice Girl Like You
Being a "nice girl," Lucy didn’t open the journal. She spent three hours researching the address. She discovered that Wickham Lane had been a hidden alleyway behind the old clock tower, sealed off since the 1920s. Against every logical instinct she possessed, Lucy didn’t call the post office. She took the brass key and walked toward the clock tower. Lucy gripped the pen
"Is that what you want to be?" Julian asked. "Or is that just the easiest thing to be?" She thought of the beige walls of her apartment
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