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... ary. I liked it here, it was one of the only places people rarely went to, where time felt like it moved more slowly, where the air was heavy with the scent of old parchment and dust, a smell that somehow brought me peace.

As I neared the library’s oak door, something made me pause. A flicker of movement under the door, barely there, but enough to catch my eye. I hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open as quietly as I could. The hinges creaked, loud in the stillness, but the ro ...

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