Page 10 of The Omega Archives: Part One

I paused before I nodded, averting my eyes.

“I don’t know why this may be. Funds or previous situation, but many universities, offer school funding to their professional workers. I can investigate and see if this would be possible for you to achieve a degree while working. If that is, you’re interested.”

All the air went out of my lungs. Forget not trying to breathe.

I was speechless.

I forced myself to cough, clearing my throat. “Thank you. Yes. I’d very much like that.”

“Good. I’ll see what I can do. I must go now, however. I have another meeting today, and I have a feeling that you’ll need all the time you can to work on that project” Mr. Wolfern insisted, rounding his desk to put more space between us.

I could feel his eyes burning into my back the entire way out of the office and down towards the bottom floor of the library.

I was away from everyone and back to my routine even if it was taking longer than expected. Longer than hoped for me to calm down.

The basement of the library was cool and quiet. There was my desk and my books and now another list of things to do that would fill my time until the end of the workday. This was all I had to worry about.

Aside from the two other librarians working down here silently alongside me, no one bothered within the thick and dusty stacks I found myself in most often. Filing cabinets housed the history of the university alongside so many others within the area.

The number of stories housed in the tiny space was almost overwhelming, but otherwise, there wasn’t much else going on, which was perfectly fine with me.

I always thought there was something beautiful about libraries. No matter what kind, libraries provided solace. They also provided all the company in the world as well as other worlds you didn’t even know of yet until you found the right book.

Unfortunately, my filled workdays haven’t left me much time for recreational reading lately, though I should change that. The whole reason I looked at a library for work was for the solitude, but also because I loved reading.

Back home when I first discovered reading, I ran to my brother, Peter, and told him all about the book. It was some kind of fairytale I was pretty sure. It was bright and stunning and full of magic. He only laughed and encouraged me to continue, even though at the time he had to have known the possibility of me ever going to college was slim to none.

He’d be just as pleased though that I managed to find a life on the shelves, even if it was away from everyone else. I was still around books. Even if they weren’t exactly the kind that made me first fall in love with the idea of stories and being surrounded by the everyday.

I liked the escape. The magic.

For so many different reasons.

I stared at my computer for a moment, trying to push the memories of my brother’s crooked, yet patient smile and the way he rolled his eyes every time I came home with a new stack of books for the weekend.

I sat down at my tiny desk I made out of an old classroom table that was stuck down here in the library last year. My cup filled with the burnt coffee I didn’t touch sat next to me.

I turned the page open to my planner to lay out everything I needed to do before the end of next week. Every day the routine reminded me of my brother I left behind six years ago.

It reminded me of myself.

I was consistent. I was reliable. I was the one thing was absolutely for sure that I could count on. I could do this.

I can do this.

Chapter

Three

ELLA

Ileft the library to make my way across campus a few minutes before I was supposed to meet Rita for lunch. I paced back and forth in the spacious entryway of the science building before walking upstairs towards where I knew the lab where she spent most of her time was, though she could’ve been teaching a class today.

I forgot to look this morning at the calendar she kept in the kitchen for me.

My head was all over the place lately.

Only when I made it to the second floor, my phone beeped… with a text message from over an hour ago.

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