Hayley Davies Pov May 2026

I freeze. My hand hovers over a worn copy of Jane Eyre .

“Thanks, Hayley,” he says, and walks away. hayley davies pov

Three hours later, I’m at the public library. It’s my sanctuary. Books don’t have hidden meanings. They don’t laugh at you behind your back. I’m shelving returns in the fiction section when I hear footsteps. I freeze

Weird. Not particular. Not sensitive. Just weird. ” he says

Tonight, in my head, he stays.

“Hayley?”