Taming the varsity player
ELOISE
The Weller estate library didn’t feel like a room inside a house; it felt like a cathedral dedicated to whispered secrets.
Two stories of dark mahogany shelves stretched all the way to the vaulted ceiling, packed with thousands of leather-bound volumes that smelled of old paper, cedar, and immense, generational wealth. A massive rolling ladder rested against the far wall, disappearing into the upper shadows, and a single, low-hanging amber banker's lamp illuminated the heavy green-felt writing desk in the center of the room.