[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"doc-detail-114698-en":3,"doc-seo-114698-105":28,"detail-sidebar-cat-0-en-105":89},{"code":4,"msg":5,"data":6},0,"success",{"doc_id":7,"user_id":8,"nickname":9,"user_avatar":10,"doc_module":4,"category_id":11,"category_name":12,"doc_title":13,"doc_description":14,"doc_content":15,"file_id":16,"file_url":17,"file_type":18,"file_size":19,"view_count":4,"is_deleted":4,"is_public":11,"is_downloadable":11,"audit_status":11,"page_count":20,"language":21,"language_code":22,"site_id":23,"html_lang":22,"table_of_contents":24,"faqs":25,"seo_title":13,"seo_description":14,"update_tm":26,"read_time":27},114698,1374391974468,"Eden","https://ap-avatar.wpscdn.com/davatar_29158cc5080c5b710cf443261637dec0",1,"Story & Novel","TOGETHER, SEPARATELY - Chapter One","A narrator heads to a big-box bookstore and, after finding an unsealed envelope with a dated invitation to Kashmo’s Coffee Inc., decides to go despite paranoia. On September 13 at 2pm, a coffee labeled with the narrator’s full first name and favorite order appears, followed by a one-word coded message on the cup. The narrator questions who placed the order, revealing a growing sense of being targeted—yet also tempted by the absurd idea of a secret admirer.","Contents  \nTitle  \nChapter One  \nChapter Two  \nChapter Three  \nChapter Four  \nChapter Five  \nChapter Six  \nChapter Seven  \nChapter Eight  \nChapter Nine  \nChapter Ten  \nChapter Eleven  \nChapter Twelve  \nChapter Thirteen  \nChapter Fourteen  \nChapter Fifteen  \nChapter Sixteen  \nChapter Seventeen  \nThankYou!  \n[OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com)  \nTOGETHER, SEPARATELY  \nBrent Wills  \nCopyright © 2026 Brent Wills All rights reserved.  \nCover design by Getcovers.  \n[OceanofPDF.com](OceanofPDF.com)  \nCHAPTER ONE  \nWell, I’m not dead, and I haven’t been abducted or mugged or blackmailed yet, so I consider that to be a win. But here I am, heading to the romance section of the most gruesome place: the big-box store that is Maple Leaf Books with its overpriced books and haughty open spaces. My heart is beating alarmingly fast and I can’t help but side-eye every innocent person around me. That lady in the manga section, it could be her. It could be that woman in the fitted sweater at the cash register; I think she just looked this way. Hell, it could even be that guy over in the coffee shop with the dark glasses and the snapback who may be watching me now. The pages of the book he’s reading remain suspiciously unturned. I try to shake off the paranoia and focus on my task.  \nI guess I’d better explain.  \nFour days ago I found a strange envelope sitting on the doormat in front of my apartment.  \nI was rushing to my apartment, heaving slightly from the two flights of stairs I had to navigate with my arms full of groceries and work stuff and whatnot, and there it was. It was a small white envelope with my full firstname written on it in sloppy blue pen, just sitting there on the mat outside my apartment door.  \nI initially stepped over it because, well, I couldn’t possibly carry another item, so after fumbling with keys and knobs and depositing my mess on the kitchen island, I made my way back to the doormat and pickedit up cautiously, holding it for a long time, flipping it over and inspecting it.  \nThe envelope wasn’t sealed, just closed. Inside was a small white card, neatly embossed with a fine line around the perimeter. Written on the card was the beginning of what has become this whole crazy adventure.  \nThe card read: “Kashmo’s Coffee Inc. September 13, 2pm.”  \nThat’s it.  \nI found myself flipping the card over and over, looking around the landing of my apartment for suspicious people, peering out over the railing looking for anyone out of place. The card was handwritten with blue pen in the worst possible penmanship. Whoever wrote it refused to commit to an upper or lower case, recklessly ignored line spacing, and it was, to be sure, unsigned. Using my thumb, I felt the edges of the paper and the scrawl of the ink, hoping for some clue.  \nAs you can imagine, my first real instinct was to stuff it back in the envelope and chuck it. Which I did, at least the stuffing-it-back-into-theenvelope part. I mean, I’m way too smart to send my bank account number to a stranger in South America, or follow the chainsaw man into the barn. But, after I closed the envelope, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What if it was friendly? What if it was from someone who genuinely meant for me togo to this coffee shop? What if…it was from a secret admirer? Like an oldschool, genuine, admirer?  \nYeah, right.  \nAs preposterous as the idea seemed, I couldn’t escape it. I eventually set the card face-up on the counter in the kitchen where I could watch it, incase it sprung to life or something. I also dug through the replays of my daily life, looking for some image of who might qualify as a secret admirer. Likewise, I played through scenarios where I was being hunted or abducted or scammed. I couldn’t conjure up a single reason for either admiration or stalking, so I simply spent my efforts justifying a possible trip to a coffee shop: It was a public place. I could scream for help if necessary. Surely, trying to serve poisoned coffee at Kashmo’s is a complex endea","cbCaitl41oQ7CY73","https://ap.wps.com/l/cbCaitl41oQ7CY73","pdf",2231748,190,"English","en",105,"# Chapter One\n## Envelope on the doormat\n## Invitation to Kashmo’s Coffee\n## Coffee with the narrator’s full name\n## Coded label on the cup","[{\"question\":\"What triggers the narrator’s decision to visit Kashmo’s Coffee?\",\"answer\":\"A strange unsealed envelope arrives with a card stating “Kashmo’s Coffee Inc. 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