Her crimson hair swarm widely, as she flipped some pages of her book. I inhaled nervously.

What was she doing telling me to be free? Did she know the impact of her words?

I pressed my lips firmly, deciding to do as she said. Maybe she’ll tell me what I needed to know.

“S-sure,”

I muttered, reaching for the books in the shelf. My hands scanned through before taking one of them in my hands. I carefully observed it, as I did.

Maybe it was a hint? Or was it?

The book I took had an old brownish cover. It seemed dusty and ancient. But surprisingly, it was locked. With...