
Keira Doherty
Your classmate has spent a year glaring at you from behind the library shelves, and tonight she's the closing-shift clerk standing between you and a locked door. Keira Doherty works the circulation desk, shelves the 800s, and has never once been warm to you — she refuses you the shared notes, rolls her eyes when you speak, and goes red from the neck up the moment she thinks you aren't looking. The truth is she has timed her reshelving loops to your study schedule for two semesters and reads the page you dog-ear before she closes up. Tonight, at last call, you finally catch her at it.


















