“Are you sure about this?” Ponty asked, as they passed through the kitchen. There was a half square-shaped spotlight on the floor, caused by the moonlight passing through the window, the other half was plastered on the rocking chair.

“No. But we’ve wasted an hour in the front desk, and no one was willing to talk. So, I thought, maybe, we’ll all be more comfortable here.” Tina replied. They’ve settled their selves on Mr. Basil’s bed. Cookie getting comfortable on the single pillow, Ponty standing near the alarm clock, and the rest occupying the ragged bed.

“Why don’t we start with names? I’m—” Tina suggested.

“This is ridiculous, I didn’t alter my story. It was her!” The first copy of the Murhill Street interrupted.

“Oh, no more small talk. Okay—” Tina said before she got cut off again.

“Admit already! Do you want to die in the furnace?!”

“Such a loud voice you have. We’re just around, so no need to shout.” Tina tried to smile.

“I. DON’T. CARE! I have no plans of dying anytime soon!” She shouted.

“Can you keep your voice down?” Cookie asked with a shy voice. But the Murhill Street copy, with piercing eyes and clenching fists, continued her speech. “Those blazing fires chewing on myself with nowhere to escape, and no one will save me no matter how hard I scream. I refuse to die like that! Oh, I know, I’ll just stop looking forward to being read! I’d rather die that way! I’ll die just like those books in the restricted section!”

“Hey.” Warren interrupted while approaching her.

“Why do we even call it a restricted section?!”

“Calm down.” Warren ordered, tugging her left arm.

“It should be a CEMETERY!” She yelled at him.

Nobody replied and, thus, they were back to the awkward silence they’ve mastered on the front desk. Ponty observing the room. Tina whistling. Cookie keeping herself from dozing off. Momo staring at everyone in a clockwise pattern while slowly moving closer towards Cookie. The other three making fake stares from the ceiling down to the floor.

“It was me.” The second copy said with a cracked voice and all eyes turned to her.

“What did you just—” Cookie began.

“I did it.” She said, now with a fuller voice after she cleared her throat.

“That was, that was fast.” Ponty described.

“Closed doors. Always works. You know, I’ve always believed most people, books rather, do not prefer admitting their mistakes in public. Well, who does?” Tina concluded.

“See? I told you she did it! So, what happens now?” The first copy said.

“Well, all we need to do is, have her change her pages by copying yours.” Tina said.

“Cookie, would now still be a bad time to ask?” Momo whispered to Cookie and gave a hesitant smile.

“Yeah, you guys. What were you thinking back there? Look what you got yourselves into.” Ponty joined in the conversation with a nervous laugh.

“Says the one who earned his ticket thanks to his stupid mind.” Cookie chuckled. Ponty took the comb and threw it to her. He tried the clock, but his strength failed him.

“Hey, be careful with the clock. That’s very important to Mr. Basil.” Tina warned.

“Oh really? Then, maybe he’ll throw this in the restricted section like you.” The first copy of the Murhill Street, said.

“Now that you mentioned it. Why don’t you tell us the truth Tina. It’s a closed door after all. You said it yourself.” Cookie said while lifting herself from the pillow. She was able to finally stand after two failed attempts.

“I have nothing to admit because I wasn’t lying.”

“That used to be my place.” She pointed to the table Ponty is standing on.

“And below this bed, there’s a small door, that’ll lead you outside.” She added.

“And the cabinet.” she jumped from the bed and went to it.

“Bruno did these marks. He’s Mr. Basil’s dog. That crazy mammal saw me moved and chased me all around this room until I climbed the top.”

“So, what went wrong?” Momo asked.

“Well, I remember laying on that dining table and Mr. Basil reading me. He looked different that day. He seemed troubled. He left the room and when he returned, he brought me to the—. He placed me in a box. It was pitched black, and I can’t get out. I heard a lot of movements while I was in there. Then, Mrs. Basil came in. Years must have passed because she looked way older than the last time I saw her. She looked baffled. She read me for a while and was particularly emotional. Which startled me, because I know my story is not sad. I’m a short bedtime story after all. Or maybe she must have missed reading me.”

“Hey, I remember you, you’re the new kid from this morning. Momo, right?” Tina added.

“Yes, I am.”

“What was your question earlier?”

“Um, why is content alteration a major crime?” Momo asked.

“And—And also, I want to ask, is it true that the restricted section is filled with dead books?” He added.

There was a deafening silence again. Everyone hoped that someone else would answer. Warren cleared his throat and began, “Think about it kid, we’re books. We connect the author to the reader, and in some cases, vice versa even. That’s our job, to store and give access to information. How the people will take them, is not our problem. If we alter our contents, we’re replacing the author, and beating the purpose of our existence.”

He let out a deep exhale and continued, “As for your second question, yes, it is believed all books in the restricted section are dead. When Tina showed up here 23 years ago, she said majority of the books on the other side are dead. But do you really think the remaining others would have stayed hopeful these past 23 years?”

“But what if the information is false?” Momo countered.

“Shouldn’t it be changed to the truth? Just like now, you said ‘it is believed all books in the restricted section are dead’, well what if some of them are still alive and hoping to be read? What about those books that were transferred 15, or 10, or 5 years ago? What if they are still alive? Shouldn’t we help them get out of there? Shouldn’t we give them a chance?” He continued.

“That’s on the author, not on us. If you change your contents, it can cause big problems to the readers. And we really have no control how a library runs, if they choose to keep some books away, there’s nothing we can do about it. It will be a big problem if they know we’re alive.” Ponty said, with more pauses than necessary and while fiddling his fingers.

The atmosphere was heavy. Silence became their company again. Owls can be heard outside, and the temperature have become colder. The bright full moon is illuminating the library filled with books that are in no mood of socializing, the one thing that they enjoy doing once the night falls. The clock is now telling everyone it’s 8:32 in the evening and they haven’t made any progress yet in fixing the altered book.

“There was a case before, about a kid who lived nearby.” Cookie started; a bit hesitant if she can talk about it. Since nobody stopped her, she continued, “They were poor, him and his mother. So, he prepared for a competition during the festival, the prize was generous. Smart kid but dull with history. The library was just a decade old that time, they said. Funds were great. Mr. Basil was still young and cheerful. The school’s faraway and the school year has ended. So, the kid frequented here.”

“He reached the final round but didn’t win. He got all the history questions wrong. His hope was lost. His mother went here looking for a certain book. She said his son insisted that his answers were based on that book. They checked, but it was different from what the kid claimed. Mrs. Basil insisted that perhaps the kid just got it wrong. Everyone thought that would be the end of the issue.” Cookie finished.

“Then, the newspapers announced that the kid hanged himself. The book in question went mad. He jumped into the furnace. That kid was one of the first regulars of the library and was close to him and Mr. Basil. Thankfully, Mr. Basil was coming down from the 2^nd floor that time. He saw the burning book and was able to salvage it. However, the mother came here at the same time, she saw him carrying the burnt book. She began bad mouthing the library to her friends, saying it was cursed and all that.” Ponty continued. He let out a deep sigh as he finished. He kept on thinking this night is the most conversations he’s ever had in probably the past decade of his life.

“If the book was saved, then where is it now? Did nobody ask him about the truth?” Momo asked.

“The elders said that Mr. Basil didn’t return the book in the shelves. So, no one got the chance to ask. Many say that he was thrown in the trash. They tried searching for him at night, but since the garbage is collected in the afternoon, it wasn’t fruitful.” Warren said.

“But if he wasn’t found may—” Momo began.

“Can we just finish this and stop chattering? You’re wasting time!” The first copy of Murhill Street insisted.

“Right. Sorry. By the way, what are your names again?” Warren asked.

“Daye.” snapped the first copy.

“Tere.” said the other.

“Okay Tere, how did you do it?”

“I think we all know how it’s done.” She said with a faint voice.

“When?”

“A week ago. Just after the school’s final exams.”

“How long did it take you to change them?”

“Two hours.”

“For both?” Warren said, raising his left eyebrow.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

 “Didn’t you change the last chapter and the epilogue?”

“An hour, an hour for each.” She corrected.

“What’s up with you?” Tina frowned at Warren.

“Just testing how good of a liar she is.” Warren replied and all books turned to him with aghast expressions.

 “What?” Cookie replied.

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious for someone to be describing the bad fate that might befall upon her in great detail?” He asked.

“What are you talking about?” Daye snapped again.

“If I might be thrown into a furnace soon, I might flee from this library and go into hiding, but I would surely not think, much less say, something like, ‘Those blazing fires chewing on myself with nowhere to escape…’.” Warren smirked and continued, “If no one talks they’ll both die. But if somebody admits, no matter who it is, both will live. One will suffer the consequences, yes, but they’ll both live. The offender is obviously not planning to admit, or we wouldn’t be here. That means—” Warren added.

“She’s forcing the other to admit by scaring her with the face of death.” Ponty concluded. Everyone looked at Daye with utter shock in their faces.

“Just wait for the flames to sink into her mind until she’d rather admit and live, is that correct Daye?” Warren declared.

“Holy Bible.” Cookie sank to the pillow as her feelings did.

“Is that true?” Tina asked, unsure if she wants a reply.

“You’re intending for her to admit?” She asked further.

Daye became silent, but it was more than enough confirmation for everyone who just heard the truth. “I—I--didn’t know it would end up like this. I—” Daye couldn’t find the words to finish her sentence.

Everyone was appalled by the thought. Ponty was a bit successful in controlling his emotion. As opposed to Tina, who’s been stepping back and forth and moving her right hand from her mouth, to the air, to Daye, to Tere, and back to her mouth again. Cookie almost forgot how to breathe, she stared at the air and was barely moving. Momo was still having a hard time processing everything that has happened. This is way too much information for someone who just started living in this library since yesterday, he thought to himself. Tere could barely breathe. Relief and anger wrapped her immediately. Part of her wanted to attack Daye but she felt like her knees will give up anytime soon. Warren, who almost saw it coming, cleared his throat and waited for the rest to recover.

“You’re, you’re fine with that?” Cookie found her voice, “She’ll get her pages cut. She’ll lose any memories related to those pages. And you’re, you’re fine with that?” She asked in disbelief.

“No, I’m not!”

“You wanted her to admit.” Tina reminded Daye, with too many pauses for a five-word phrase.

“I was des—”

“No, you’re not desperate. You’re horrible!” Cookie said with pure disgust and disbelief painted on her face.

“Judge me if you want. I don’t care. Tere, I’m sorry. I truly am—”

“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Tina bolted in front of Daye but was stopped by Warren and Momo. “A while ago, you were aiming to make her guilty! You’re way thicker than your spine!” She glared at Daye, her voice was shaking but she continued. “Tere will live in the restricted section and you’re—” Tina stopped. It’s like there’s a dark cloud floating above her and a rainfall of dark memories that she doesn’t want to remember is about to be showered upon her, and no exquisite umbrella can prevent the storm from happening.

“I am not expecting you to forgive me. I truly am sorry.” Daye said while looking at Tere, who was too disgusted to look at her.

“You must be joking.” Tina said in disbelief.

“Just burn me now. Please. I don’t care anymore. Just throw me in the furnace.” Daye said, finally looking at Tina.

“We would, but the furnace is not burning right now.” Cookie said.

“Let’s hear it.” Warren said. He looked at Daye and rephrased, “Your story. Let’s hear it.

Author's Note: Sorry, I had to cut it into 2 parts due to 15k character's limit by Tapas. Also, please check out my landing page: https://linktr.ee/msjenjana