Nightcall - Billie Eilish

The gentle melody of 70s rock filled the cozy record shop, a familiar comfort to Dina. Her fingers, still tingling from adjusting a vinyl on the shelf, slid over the glossy cover as she straightened, lost in the hum of the music and the quiet rustle of a few late-afternoon customers. The scent of old paper and dust motes dancing in the faint light was home.
Then, a light chime from the doorbell broke the spell, and Dina looked up, drawn by the figure silhouetted against the fading light. A large black hood obscured their face, and dark sunglasses hid their eyes, an odd choice for such a gray Los Angeles afternoon, Dina mused with an amused smile.
"This a robbery?" she quipped playfully, the words leaving her lips before she could fully think better of it.
