Holt Library Novels & Stories

As he straightened his cufflinks, he cut his voice and added, "Don't wait up." I said, "I won't," already preparing my next move. I opened my laptop as soon as he was gone and looked up the Harrington archives. The searches directed me to a Midtown private library that needed special access to enter. I was uncertain if I would even be permitted entry, but my curiosity was burning brightly within me. An hour later, I was standing outside the imposing structure, which had elaborate carvings on its stone facade. The smell of polish and old paper filled the air within. As I walked up to the counter, a grim-faced librarian gave me a dubious look.

Our clothes were soaking wet because of the rainstorm and we had to drop by in Giofré’s house to find some clothes to wear. And since almost all of our stuff were stuck there, we managed to change our clothes so we could head to our destination which was the library. Library of Hillford was the oldest library in this town and was the main library of this city. It was one of the largest libraries in this country, containing the oldest—ancient—books that only the Hillford was authorized to have. I remembered, during high school, I had been there once. It was for a research and when we got the chance to use the computers, we found some skeptical files in there that the librarian was quick to no

When lunch bell rings, he slips me another note: "Library. Now." I sneak in through the side door, heart pounding. The library is quiet, just a few students scattered at tables, the librarian at her desk with her back turned. Mr. Hale waits in the far stacks, hidden among tall shelves of old books. He grabs my wrist and pulls me deeper into the shadows, where no one can see. "Good girl," he murmurs, his hand sliding up my thigh under my skirt. "You've been thinking about me, haven't you?"

I turned toward the window and kept my thoughts to myself. Raymond Holt’s property sat at the end of a private road two hours outside the city. Iron gates, flawless grounds, and an old stone house that felt quietly powerful. I knew more about Holt than he would have been comfortable with. His name appeared in the Vela documents. He was not the architect of the structure, but he understood it completely and had benefited from it for years. I needed to see his private records to understand how deep his involvement went. That was why I was here.

Coral wanting to leave a library in less than thirty seconds of stepping inside should be the loudest warning my bell, but we are already here. The library looks old and abandoned, like no one's been here in a very, very, very long time. Dusts sit on the books and shelves in thick layers, cobwebs decorate the ceilings and floorboards creak with each step. Everything in me screams to turn away, but if there's any chance of finding answers, I'm grabbing without looking back. It feels like stepping into one of those haunted houses you see on TV. “You two shouldn't be here, Ms Hale." Holden’s voice has us startled. We turn around and there he is, standing by the doorway, arms folded. “This area

Rose raised her eyebrows at me, after taking a sip of her newly arrived coffee. “You think I’d be sitting here if he did?” I asked back. “Right.” She shrugged. “So…what now?” “There’s only one place that might have what we need right now.” I told her. “The Castle library. It has the oldest collection of books and the only place where all books had been stocked after being rescued from the debris after the Wipeout.”

She slotted yet another book into the shelf in front of her, only to have the one next to it get up and fly away. “This is torture.” “Tell me about it. This is why I hate libraries in the first place,” Holly replied in a muffled voice. ‘Well, I love our library back at home. Books there aren’t as naughty as the ones here.’ There was a brief silence. A low shuffling of feet made Clara turn around. She watched Holly as she shelved a book effortlessly, and then another. She whirled around, her lips curled into a sneer. “Look, Your Highness.”

“And a hope shelf.” “And a forgiveness shelf.” Oliver stared in amazement. “Books have feelings here.” Emily corrected him immediately. “No.” She smiled. “People do.” Oliver looked around the library once more, noticing the small handwritten labels Ava had placed beneath each collection. For a moment he said nothing. Then he carried the novel himself to the shelf marked Courage and slid it carefully into its place. “I think it belongs there.” “So do I,” Ava replied warmly. Outside, Mrs. Holt had recruited Thomas and Margaret into helping prepare the vegetable garden behind Tomorrow House for the autumn planting season.

Ian asked, still with shaky hands. Why couldn’t the f*cker just smoke? Was he on a smoke strike? “It has a golden-brown cover and we’ll find it in the fantasy section.” We scattered into the library but Ian was baffled as to where the ‘fantasy’ section was. ‘Hey, a*shole, do you remember where it was?’ Ante scoffed. ‘I’m only telling you because Hilda is involved, and those are offensive words.’ After a small wait, he replied, as I moved down the dusty shelves of even dustier books. ‘Fifth shelf down the left, should be on the lower rows.’

> “In the place where silence speaks, > Beneath the words, the answer leaks. > Among forgotten tales and lore, > The past unlocks the hidden door”. Juliette’s voice caught. “The library.” Damon’s eyes darkened. “She’s weaponizing our history.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The old city library had long been a fortress of quiet, forgotten knowledge. Sunlight bled through its tall windows like golden fog. Juliette moved with purpose through the aisles. She knew where Evelyn would hide it somewhere the ghosts of the past still whispered.