There was just enough autumn in the air to feel enchanted. Trees blazed with color around the clearing, their leaves whispering as a soft breeze drifted through. Sunlight spilled between the branches in shifting gold, dancing across the park pathways like a quiet invitation. It was the kind of place where anything could happen—magic or heartbreak—and Lena felt suspended between the two.

She had spent months preparing for this moment. Here, in this serene clearing, she would finally confess her feelings to Alaric—her best friend, her constant, the one person who had always been able to steady her heart and unravel it in the same breath. Excitement and dread tangled in her chest as she rehearsed her words for the hundredth time. She wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability. Scalpels and textbooks made sense. Emotions didn’t.

She could stitch wounds, diagnose elusive symptoms, and navigate the complexities of the human body with absolute precision. But love? Love was chaos. Love was unpredictable. Love made her feel like she was standing unprotected in the middle of a battlefield with no training to save her.

Alaric had always been her constant. Childhood memories, late-night study sessions, whispered jokes during impossible exams—every piece of her life seemed tied to him in ways she never questioned until the feelings changed. Until they grew too big, too loud, too impossible to ignore.

She’d imagined this moment a thousand different ways. None of those versions involved her legs threatening to give out beneath her as she waited alone in the glowing hush of the clearing.

When he finally appeared between the trees, Lena’s breath snagged. His smile—familiar, easy—cut through her fear like sunlight. For a heartbeat, hope surged so fiercely it hurt. Maybe—just maybe—this could be the start of something new.

She began to speak. Her voice shook, but she forced the words out, peeling back years of guarded emotions. Alaric listened, his expression shifting with every syllable she offered. Curiosity softened to concern. Concern hardened into something she couldn't read—something that twisted dread through her stomach.

When she finished, the silence felt sharp enough to bleed on.

“Lena…” His voice wavered. “I’m sorry.”

Two words—and her pulse dropped.

“I’ve been seeing someone.” He swallowed, gaze breaking away from hers. “I should’ve told you sooner. I’ve been dating Alice for a while.”

The world tilted. The colors around her—so bright moments ago—blurred like watercolors bleeding apart. The clearing suddenly felt too open, too exposed, as if the forest itself had stepped back to watch her break.

Lena didn’t speak. Couldn’t. His confession hit with the cruel precision of a scalpel, cutting through every layer of trust she’d ever placed in him. The distance between them wasn’t physical, but it might as well have been an ocean.

And in that hollow, aching silence, she realized nothing about this moment would ever leave her unchanged.

Lena didn’t remember leaving the clearing—only the numbness in her limbs and the echo of Alaric’s confession clinging to every breath.

By the time she reached the park entrance, her phone buzzed. She nearly ignored it, but the name flashing across the screen made her chest tighten.

Daniel.

Her brother. The one person who might have answers.

She picked up with trembling hands, her voice barely a whisper—but she didn’t get a chance to speak.

The ground shuddered beneath her.

A low vibration rolled through the earth, subtle at first, then strong enough to ripple up her legs. The air thickened, charged like the moment before lightning touches down. She looked around, but no one else reacted. Somehow, impossibly, the disturbance centered on her alone.

Then she heard it.

A chime. Soft. Delicate.

Not from her phone.

It rang again—three notes, bright and crystalline—coming from deeper within the park. The sound felt impossibly familiar, as though it tugged at something buried beneath grief.

Lena’s breath caught. Was it a warning? A beckoning? A hallucination?

She hesitated… yet her feet moved anyway.

Guided by that faint tremor in the air, she slipped onto a narrow side path she was certain had never existed before. With each step, the world grew quieter. City noise faded. Birdsong dimmed. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Ivy-covered stone walls rose around her, forming a corridor that looked ancient—older than the park, older than the city. At the end stood a squat, weathered storefront wedged between the overgrown walls, as though it had been waiting for her.

THE LAST PAGE
The crooked sign hung above a window glowing with warm golden light she could’ve sworn hadn’t been there moments ago.

Her pulse quickened. She pushed open the door.

A bell chimed overhead—the same sound that had called to her.

Inside, the air smelled of old paper and something faintly metallic. Towering shelves twisted in impossible directions, stretching far deeper than the tiny building should allow. Shadows drifted where they shouldn’t. Books hummed softly, like living things muttering to themselves.

Lena stepped farther in. Antique lamps cast warm circles of amber light, shifting just enough to make the aisles seem alive. Whispers brushed her ears—pages rustling, spines creaking, stories leaning toward her as if eager to be chosen.

“Rough evening?”

The voice came from behind the counter.

A man stood there—tall and pale, with dark hair loosely tied back. His eyes were a shifting storm-grey, ancient and sharp beneath an expression that was almost gentle. The long coat he wore shimmered subtly, its fabric etched with patterns that looked alive in the lamplight.

Lena startled. “How did you—?”

He smiled, not unkindly. “You wouldn’t have found this place unless you needed to. The shop chooses who it lets in.”

“The… shop?” she echoed.

“Go on,” he murmured, gesturing toward the shelves. “Something here is meant for you.”

Logic told her to leave. To go home and cry until exhaustion drowned the ache in her chest. But something else—something soft and magnetic—pulled her deeper.

The whispers grew warmer as she reached the back of the store. A single hanging lantern illuminated a pedestal where a thick, leather-bound tome rested. Symbols shifted across its cover like ink stirring underwater.

The moment her fingers brushed the leather, the entire store fell silent. A rush of warmth surged through her, as if the book recognized her touch and welcomed her presence. Her heart pounded with a mix of fear and wonder, but also a profound sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in years. It was as if the tome held the promise of answers she desperately sought, whispering secrets meant solely for her.

Behind her, the owner spoke—quiet, almost reverent.

“That book chooses only those willing to cross dangerous thresholds.” Lena's pulse quickened, a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She felt both daunted by the unknown paths that lay ahead and invigorated by the prospect of uncovering hidden truths. Despite the apprehension, a deep-seated resolve blossomed within her, compelling her to embrace whatever lay beyond those thresholds.

Her voice shook. “What is it?”

He stepped closer, eyes gleaming with ancient, terrible knowledge.

“A grimoire,” he said. “One of the oldest. It holds rituals believed lost to time—including the one generations tried to erase.”
His voice softened, edged with gravity.
“A spell to bring the dead back to life.” Lena's breath caught in her throat, a mixture of disbelief and longing swirling within her. The possibility of such a spell, something she had yearned for yet never dared to hope for, sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart ached with the weight of decisions to be made, but beneath it all was a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.

The world that heartbreak had hollowed out moments ago suddenly filled with something darker, heavier—yet no longer empty. The dimly lit store was filled with towering shelves that seemed to stretch endlessly into shadowy corners, crammed with books of every size and color. Dust motes danced in the air, caught in the soft glow of the lantern, while the scent of aged paper and forgotten secrets lingered like a promise in the air. The atmosphere was thick with mystery, a quiet sanctuary hidden from the bustling world outside, where time seemed to slow down and the past whispered its tales to those who listen.