The Ledger of Lost ThingsThe package sat on the walnut table in the center of the library like a coiled viper. It was wrapped in heavy, wax-sealed brown paper, bound with twine that felt coarse and ancient beneath Celeste’s fingers. When she finally broke the seal, the smell hit her—a mixture of stale pipe tobacco, dry rot, and something sharper, like metallic ink. It was the scent of her father’s office in Ohio, a place she had spent her childhood trying to forget.She pulled the ledger out. The leather cover was cracked, peeling at the corners, and embossed with a faded symbol she hadn't seen in years: the crest of the Harrington shipping lines."Don't open it," Damien cautioned, his voice low and vibrating with a primal, protective instinct. He moved to stand behind her, his large hands resting on her shoulders, his gaze fixed on the book as if it might detonate. "If it’s a trap, the paper could be la
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