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Looks like they favor biographies, architectural toot a section dedicated to the famous Irish authors of yesteryear like Jae Bernard Shaw No Anne Rice, but they’ve got Bram Stoker at least
Oh look, they’ve even got a signed copy of Dubliners I don’t care what anybody says, no one understands that fucking book The Irish are all in on it, pretending it’s a ibberish
Besides the floor-to-ceiling shelves of books, the library is full of overstuffed leather are stone fireplace Despite the eather, there’s a fire going in the grate—just a ss burning, which s of a pretty wo the lass Between those, an old pocket watch
I pick it up off the ly heavy in my hand, the metal warm to the touch instead of cool I can’t tell if it’s brass or gold Part of the chain is still attached, though it looks like it broke off at about half its original length The case is carved and inscribed, so worn that I can’t tell what the ie used to be I don’t kno to open it, either
I’ with the mechanis sound Quickly, I slip the watch into my pocket and dive down behind one of the armchairs, the one closest to the fire
A man comes into the library Tall, brown hair, about thirty years old He’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, and he’s extreroomed Handsome, but in a stark sort of way—like he’d push you off a lifeboat if there weren’t enough seats Or ot to brush your teeth
I haven’t actually met this dude before, but I’m fairly certain it’s Callus Which means he’s just about the worst person to catch me in the library
Unfortunately, it seems like he plans to stick around a while He sits down in an ar elass of whiskey in his hand, and he’s sipping froether
It’s extre over the hardwood floor is none too cushy and I have to hunch up in a ball so my head and feet don’t poke out on either side Plus, it’s hot as balls this close to the fire
How in the hell aet out of here?
Callu Sip Read Sip Read The only other sound is the popping of the birch logs
How long is he going to sit here?
I can’t stay forever My brothers are going to start looking for me in a minute
I don’t like being stuck I’ to sweat, from the heat and the stress
The ice in Callu