A Nice Girl Like You -

"I’m Lucy. I’m here to return this. It was sent to me by mistake."

The man, whose nameplate read Julian , didn't take the box. "We don't make mistakes, Lucy. That journal belongs to a version of you that hasn't happened yet." A Nice Girl Like You

The Midnight Gallery was not a museum; it was a sanctuary of "lost things." The air smelled of rain and old paper. Inside, a man with ink-stained fingers and a crooked tie looked up from a desk. "You’re late," he said, not unkindly. "I’m Lucy

A neighbor passed by and smiled. "Evening, Lucy! Such a nice girl." "We don't make mistakes, Lucy

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.

She leaned over the desk and wrote: Today, I decided to be difficult.

"That's the 'Not-So-Nice' Lucy," Julian whispered. "The one who speaks her mind. The one who takes the promotion in London. The one who stops apologizing for taking up space."