Harrison County Library Hours Novels & Stories

Dai's POV After my short message to Miss Harrison, I had a feeling she was still going to be at the office after 5pm even though the closing time for all employees is 5pm, some still stay behind to finish their work or do overtime if it's required. I'm currently sitting in my car at a corner of the office building when I spot a black SUV stopping by the entrance and a few minutes later Miss Harrison emerges from the entrance and enters the passenger side of the car.

Harrison took a final glance at her, his frustration simmering under the surface, before turning and heading toward the library doors. As he approached the entrance, he noticed a shadow moving just out of sight. His sharp eyes quickly identified the culprit: Maria, hovering near the doorway, her expression a mix of curiosity and feigned nonchalance. “Mrs Lux,” Harrison greeted flatly, his voice laced with suspicion. “I see you’ve found an interest in library doors.”

There were about ten guys total, plus a couple of girls who mostly hung around the kitchen. Harrison had been pounding drinks since eight. I kept tugging on his arm, whispering for him to slow down, but he was too hyped up, laughing loud and spilling beer down his shirt. By eleven he was completely gone. He stumbled to the big sectional couch in the living room, face-planted, and started snoring like a damn chainsaw. I shook his shoulder. “Harrison… babe, wake up. Let’s get you to bed.” Nothing. He was out cold.

“You don't hear me howling about Harrison every hour. It’s an exercise in futility.” “Well, I certainly have plenty of grievances regarding you,” Harrison mumbled as he retrieved his keys. “Move, Maddie, we need to beat the sunset.” I gave Preston a quick, fierce nod and acknowledged the others. “I suppose I’ll see your faces at the feast.” Harrison pulled up before the Cruz Manor fifteen minutes later, the engine idling like a low growl at the curb. “I’ll be back to collect you at the sixth hour. That should grant you enough time to mask your scars.”

The rain was hitting the tall windows of the Cedarville Public Library like handfuls of gravel. Owen sat at the front desk, scrolling through the late return fees on his computer monitor, the blue light reflecting off his wire-rimmed glasses. It was 8:47 PM on a Friday. The library stayed open until nine on Fridays, a policy Owen had never understood. Nobody came in on Friday nights. Nobody except the rain and the quiet.