Library Of Heaven's Path Novels & Stories

Definitely nothing weird or worth overthinking. So why, I ask myself for the hundredth time, am I sweating like I’m on trial for arson? The library feels suspiciously quiet when I push open the heavy wooden door. I’m immediately greeted by the smell of old paper and furniture polish—like someone tried to bottle “intellectual vibes” as a fragrance. Sunlight filters through the tall, arched windows, hitting the dust particles in a way that makes the whole place feel dramatic, like a cathedral of words. Mr. Wright’s voice slices through the silence. “You’re late.”