The whispering wind carried the scent of rain as Rowena stood beneath the dim glow 9f the streetlights her fingers gripping the edges of her coat
The world around her felt distant like the edges of an unfinished painting
The dream has come again
She couldn't recall the details only fragments _flashes of firelight flickering against stone walls
The deep echo of a voice laced with sorrow and fury and a pair of hands reaching for her before fading into darkness
Her mother's voice pulled her back to reality as she entered the house
Rowena you're up early again
Her mother signed from the kitchen stirring a pot of porridge
The lines on her face deepened with concern as she turned to look at her daughter
Was it the same dream
Rowena hesitated before nodding her head
You've been having them more often
Her mother murmured setting the wooden spoon down
Maybe it's stress from work you should take a break from that library
Rowena shook her head
I like it there it's quite.... peaceful
Her mother signed clearly unconvinced but she didn't press further
After a quick breakfast Rowena grabbed her bag and stepped outside.
The morning air was cool against her skin as she made her way to the library_a place that hadalways felt more like home than anywhere else
Tall shelves of ancient books lined the halls the scent of old paper and ink wrapping her like a comforting embrace
She spent most of her days organizing books assisting visitors and getting lost in the words of forgotten histories
But lately even the stillness of the library couldn't silence the whispers in her mind
She brushed her fingers over the spine of an old leather _bound book a strange chill running down her arm
It was as if something or someone was watching her
And for the first time she had the unsettling feeling that the dreams weren't just dreams
They're something else