The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of paper and the occasional creak of wood as i went through my father's old study. The scent of aged leather and dust filled the air, a reminder of the long-forgotten memories hidden within these walls. This was a place i had once adored, a sanctuary of sorts, where my father would spend long hours poring over business contracts and financial reports. Now, it felt more like a tomb—a place where secrets lay buried, waiting to be unearthed.
