Franklin's Library Novels & Stories

"I am involved in this too, and if you're too excited for the journey of the afterlife, then I am not, and this is not the way I want to go." "Too bad for you then, and why are you telling me? What can I do for you?" She threw at me, and I took a deep breath, holding in my anger. "If it had nothing to do with you, I wouldn't be here," I said. "Now, will you shut your mouth for a moment so I can speak? You don't even know what I am here for." "It's almost not hard to tell, but anyway, you can go ahead." "After all these years, Franklin decided to bring in another woman," I started, and she interrupted me with a chuckle.

He nodded his head and thanked me again for the cake, retreating back to his office. I wanted more than anything to understand what was bothering him, but I didn’t want to press him too soon. The next day, at the usual time, I entered Frank's library Frank and I had been studying in. The lights were dimmed, the room glowing with several lit candles, and soft jazz music played from a speaker somewhere. Frank was standing in the middle of the room. He had moved all of the furniture to the side, creating a large open space to walk in. “What’s this?” I asked with a breathy laugh, in awe of the transformation.

Sally had not managed to ask her questions before Elijah’s car pulled to a stop outside the cafe. The tall man pushed the cafe’s glass doors open and strode over to them. He glanced lovingly at Sally and asked, “Do you need me to wait for you guys?” “No need.” Franklin stood up calmly. “I just remembered I have something to tell Thomas. I’ll be leaving now.” After he finished speaking, he turned and strode away. When he noticed that Sally was still sitting dazedly in her seat, Elijah smiled and sat down where Franklin had been sitting before as he elegantly poured Sally a glass of lemon-infused water. “What can’t you make sense of?”

Several of them, overlapping, the evidence of more than one approach or a single approach repeated. They led toward the property wall. I pulled back from the window and the specific certainty of what had been happening in this room while we sat in the parlour with our coffee settled into me with a weight that I had to move through to function. I went back to the hallway. Franklin was on the floor.

Some whispered behind their hands they didn’t bother to hide anymore. They all knew. They always knew. I kept my head down and walked faster. The library was my first mistake. I should’ve known better. Frank practically lived there during midterms, especially this time of year. He liked the corner table by the windows, and liked spreading his books out like he was claiming territory. I didn’t even realize I was walking toward it until it was too late. I felt him before I saw him. That pull. That stupid, traitorous tug in my chest.

Franklin sighed and set me down. "Who's there?" Franklin asked as he walked over to see who was at the door. Sometimes he forgot that the door was soundproof, as Alex often didn't wait for his orders before coming in to deliver messages and report whoever was at the gate. Franklin walked up to the door and pulled it open while I waited for him to return so we could call it a night. I went to pick up the gifts that Amelia had bought for me. As Franklin opened the door, his family stood there, making my jaw drop.

That fact felt solid in a way almost nothing else did. I typed back before I could talk myself out of it. Of course. I will come tomorrow afternoon. The next morning Franklin was already in the kitchen. He had started making French press coffee recently, like it was a new identity he was trying on. The counter was spotless. The orchids by the window had been misted. Everything sat exactly where it belonged. “I am driving into the city today,” I said, keeping my eyes on the toast as I buttered it. “Adrian forgot his laptop. I told him I would drop it off.”

I throw the black book I got from Anya and some of the others she found from the main library on Fren’s table and he drops his pen, flinching. “Tell me why half the pages in every book about the Crimson-born are missing and don’t feed me the same bullshit the others have been giving me for weeks.” I’ve had my men question the elders that use the library the most and they weren’t able to get the information I needed so now I’m here to do things myself. You get answers faster when the main leader gets involved. “You were the Librarian of the Records before you were an Elder, Fren. Tell me why our history is missing its heart!”

I marched out of the house and drove to the library. “Good day, Alpha,” the librarian greeted as I walked toward the front desk. She was an older lady, her wrinkles that adorned her forehead. She was the quintessence of a librarian with her knitted sweater and her glasses that had beaded loops that wrapped around her neck and tucked beneath her silver hair. “I’m searching for a book on the Order of the Fang,” I said. She paused, her eyes widening. “Alpha?” she called and I tilted my head. She seemed to have seen a ghost with the way she reacted and I didn’t know it was even possible for her to look as pale as she did now.

I still had to put up an act and visit the damn doctor daily. A thought suddenly hit me. They claimed there are no records of Amy's existence. Where do they keep the records? I turned around suddenly, catching Falcon off guard. He stared at me skeptically. "Is there a library?" *** The pack house library is a warm, dimly lit sanctuary tucked away on the second floor, lined wall-to-wall with towering shelves of worn leather-bound books. The scent of old paper mingles with polished oak, and a crackling fireplace casts a soft amber glow across plush armchairs and a long reading table. Large windows overlook the forest, their heavy curtains drawn just enough to let in silver threads of sunlight,