The rain didn't just fall in Oakhaven; it claimed the town. Catelynn sat on the edge of her bed, watching the droplets race down the glass like they were late for something important. In her hand, she gripped a heavy brass key—one she’d found tucked inside the lining of her grandfather’s old leather satchel. It didn't belong to any door in her house. It didn't belong to the gate at the cemetery.
Is she truly alone down there, or is there a Librarian waiting? Catelynn
That was the crest of the "Blackwood Library," a place people in town stopped talking about forty years ago. They said the library didn't burn down; they said the ground simply decided it didn't want the building there anymore and swallowed it whole. The rain didn't just fall in Oakhaven; it claimed the town
She threw on her yellow slicker and headed toward the edge of the woods. The air grew thick and smelled of wet cedar and something metallic—like copper pennies. As she reached the clearing where the library once stood, she saw it. Not a building, but a sticking out of the mud at a sharp angle, barely visible under a tangle of ivy. It didn't belong to any door in her house
