After Hours

Mira had always loved Constellation Books. The cozy bookstore tucked between the pretzel stand and the phone repair kiosk was her sanctuary from the chaos of Westfield Mall. She could spend hours browsing the fantasy section, running her fingers along worn paperback spines, discovering new worlds while her mom finished shopping.

Today had been no different. She'd settled into the reading nook with a stack of books, completely absorbed in a story about dragon riders, when the overhead lights suddenly dimmed.

"Excuse me, sweetie," called Janet, the store manager, from behind the register. "We're closing in five minutes."

Mira glanced up, startled. The mall felt eerily quiet—no echoing conversations, no fountain sounds, no distant music from the department stores. She gathered her books and headed toward the back shelves to return them, but stopped when she heard the familiar jingle of keys and the metallic *click* of the security gate rolling down.

"Wait!" Mira called out, but her voice was swallowed by the empty store. She rushed to the front, but the metal grating was already locked in place. Through the gaps, she could see Janet's retreating figure, keys jingling as she walked toward the mall exit.

Mira's heart hammered against her ribs. She was trapped.

The emergency lights cast everything in an amber glow, transforming her beloved bookstore into something foreign and dreamlike. She pulled out her phone—no signal. Of course. The mall's thick walls were notorious for blocking cell service.

After the initial panic subsided, curiosity began to creep in. When would she ever get another chance to explore Constellation Books after hours? She wandered the aisles, her footsteps muffled by the carpet. Without other customers around, she noticed details she'd never seen before: handwritten shelf talkers with Janet's recommendations, a small section of signed first editions she'd somehow missed, a cozy reading corner behind the poetry section complete with fairy lights.

In the back office, she found a mini-fridge stocked with sodas and a basket of granola bars—probably Janet's emergency snacks. Mira helped herself to both, reasoning that survival trumped politeness.

As the night wore on, she created a fort out of cushions and blankets from the children's section. She pulled down books she'd always wanted to read but never had time for: The Left Hand of Darkness, The Goblin Emperor, a collection of short stories by Jorge Luis Borges. Under the soft emergency lighting, she read until her eyes grew heavy.

She must have dozed off, because she woke to the sound of keys jingling and the security gate rattling upward. Sunlight streamed through the storefront windows.

"Mira?" Janet's shocked voice cut through the morning quiet. "What on earth—how did you—?"

Mira sat up from her book fort, hair disheveled, still clutching The Goblin Emperor. "I got locked in," she said sheepishly. "I tried to call out, but..."

Janet's expression shifted from alarm to something like wonder. "You spent the entire night here? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Mira said, and realized she meant it. "Actually, it was kind of amazing. I read three whole books, and I found that signed edition section I never knew about, and—"

Janet laughed, a warm sound that filled the store. "You know what? I think you might be the first person to get locked in somewhere overnight and consider it a good thing."

As Mira gathered her things and Janet unlocked the security gate, the older woman paused. "Tell you what. If you ever want to stay after hours again—with permission this time—I might be able to arrange something. Maybe we could start an after-hours book club."

Mira's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really. But next time, let's make sure your parents know where you are."

Walking out into the bright mall concourse, Mira clutched her new favorite book and smiled. Some of the best adventures, she realized, happened when you least expected them—even when they started with getting locked in your favorite place in the world.

The mall was just beginning to stir with early morning shoppers and employees opening their stores. But Mira would never look at Constellation Books the same way again. It wasn't just a store anymore—it was a place where magic could happen after hours, where books came alive in the amber glow of emergency lights, and where sometimes getting trapped was really getting set free.