The library air felt heavier these days. Too still. Too silent. Not the kind of silence that comforted—but the kind that made every breath feel like waiting for something that would never come.
Another book slid through the scanner. Another polite smile. Another hour of pretending this life was enough.
She had once imagined working around books would be a dream. Instead, it felt like being buried under forgotten stories while her own story refused to begin. The shelves didn't care. The clock on the wall didn't either. Its slow, indifferent ticking only reminded her that time was leaving her behind.
A half-written resignation email waited in her drafts. She read it again, as she often did during quiet hours. No one knew about it. Not even Lila. Maybe especially not Lila.
The phone buzzed.
> "Feel like a walk later? There's something I've been meaning to tell you."
That was Lila. Finally. She'd been acting different for weeks—smiling like a secret was burning in her chest, always about to say something but never quite getting there.
> "Sure. After work," she replied, almost instantly.
Even if something felt off, she missed their talks. Missed feeling like someone understood her without needing her to explain.
Evening came dressed in quiet gold. The two of them walked through the park like they used to, gravel crunching beneath their steps. Wind tugged at the edges of her scarf. Lila's fingers played with her purse strap like they had something better to do.
"You okay?" she asked, glancing sideways. "You've been... off."
"I'm fine," Lila said too quickly. "Just... life stuff. You know."
She nodded, unsure whether to believe it. Neither of them said anything for a while.
Then:
"You ever think about doing something else?"
The question dropped casually, but her heart reacted like someone had screamed it.
"All the time," she admitted.
A pause. Then Lila looked away.
"I might know someone looking to hire. It's nothing crazy. Just... better than what you're stuck with now."
That caught her attention. "What kind of job?"
Lila shrugged, too breezy to be believable. "Still figuring that out. But if I hear more, I'll let you know."
Something about the way she said it—it didn't feel like a real offer. More like a test.
Still, she didn't ask questions. Not tonight. Because deep down, she was tired. Of struggling. Of surviving. Of living a life that felt borrowed.
So she nodded.
And that's all it took.
The first string pulled.
The first shadow cast.
She didn't know it yet, but someone was already watching.
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