I never wanted to be a part of the Larkstone Estate's game of shadows and whispers. I came here to chase symposium accolades, sip overpriced wine, and pretend I fit in with the scholars who talk more about meaning than meaning itself. But then I found the book. A book that doesn't belong in a library-or this world. Now I'm hearing voices where there shouldn't be any, doors are closing when I don't touch them, and shadows have started to move. Oh, and there's him. Ash-because of course he's got the name of someone who shows up when life decides to crumble. He watches me like he knows something I don't, and judging by the cryptic riddles he keeps dropping, I'm pretty sure I'm just a pawn in some cosmic plan that'll ruin my life. Maybe I should've run the first time he whispered, "Some doors aren't meant to be opened." But where's the fun in that? Call it stubbornness, curiosity, or a fatal flaw-I've never been one to turn away from a mystery. Now I just have to hope the mystery doesn't swallow me whole.
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