Evaline:
The moment my fingers brushed against the worn leather cover of the record book, that familiar sensation washed over me again.
It was subtle yet unmistakable... like a soft pulse beneath my skin, a quiet recognition that hummed through my veins. The same feeling I had experienced the very first time I touched this book. As if it knew me. As if it had been waiting.
I drew a slow breath and opened it.
I was sitting on my bed, my back resting comfortably against the pillows and the headboard, my legs stretched out beneath the thick blanket. The book's weight settled heavily on my lap, grounding me as I carefully turned to the page where I had stopped reading last time.
The room was quiet, wrapped in a gentle stillness that only came late at night. Dinner was long over, my hair still faintly damp from my shower, the scent of lavender lingering in the air.
