Page 225 of Crimson Promises
I could hear the sound of her typing diligently on the keyboard as I approached her office. Softly, I knocked against the glass door, careful not to leave fingerprints.
Her head popped up from behind her sleek Mac desktop. “Aurora, what a pleasure it is to see you,” she enunciated in her crisp British accent. “Please have a seat.” She pointed towards one of the vacant chairs on the other side of the desk.
“Thanks,” I said as I swung my backpack into my lap and sat directly across from her.
“We were worried about you.”
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“Nonsense,” she tsked. “Life happens, and I, out of all people, can recognize that. I figured it would be important if we didn’t hear from you. However, I was going to give it another few days and reach out to your emergency contact to ensure you were okay.”
“There was a family emergency.” I fiddled with the straps of my backpack. Jean was someone I held an immense amount of respect for, and I wouldn’t say I liked lying to her, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If I told her what happened, she’d think I was crazy.
She reached across her desk and held my hand. “Truly, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope everything is alright now.”
“Not yet, but it will be,” I answered with a quaky voice.
“Of course.” She patted my hand once more before twirling a pen in her hands. “Feel free to take off all the time you need to deal with this personal matter. Your job will be here waiting for you when you get back.”
I ran my hand across the buckle that adjusted the strap. “Actually, that’s part of why I’m here.” I raised my eyes to meet hers. “I’d like to come back to work.”
“Are you sure you’re ready?” She tilted her head to the side, and I could tell, like Chelsea, she was taking in my disheveled, exhausted appearance.
“I need this.” I nodded vigorously. “I need to get back to work, back to routine. I can’t sit in those four walls. There’s nothing to do there except grieve. I’ve done enough of that already. It will help to keep my mind busy.”
She gave me another assessing gaze as she leaned back in her chair. Pen poised against her lips.
“Alright, if you feel you’re ready, there is a bunch of work that needs to get done, and I would appreciate your help with it.”
“Thank you.” My shoulders sagged in relief. “Can I get started now?”
“Your dedication to Canmore is commendable.” She pushed her chair back. “Why don’t you follow me? Before we go, do you have your keycard with you?”
I pulled it out of the back pocket of my jeans.
“I knew I made the right decision hiring you.”
Jean led me towards the keypad and over the threshold into the rare and unique collections. This part of the library still took my breath away, though it didn’t match up to the floating books in Lucifer’s collection. We passed the typical areas where we worked until we encountered a part of a usual looking bookcase.
Standing in front of an unassuming wooden shelf alongside Jean, I curiously observed as she meticulously selected several hardcovers in a deliberate sequence. My eyebrows arched in astonishment when, with the final book pulled, the shelf swung inwards. It revealed an entrance to a concealed room, and the air grew heavy with the scent of aged paper and leather.
The room was dimly lit by antique sconces, casting a soft golden hue that danced on the edges of numerous glass display cases. Each case was a haven for beautifully bound manuscripts and tomes, their covers embossed with ornate patterns and shimmering metallic inlays. The carpet beneath my feet was thick and plush. The walls were painted a deep maroon, adding to the room's warmth and elegance.
Jean's voice broke through my admiration. "This," she began with a hint of pride, "is where we'll be showcasing the rare collection donated by the University of San Diego for tomorrow evening's event."
She gestured toward the display cases. “Your job is to ensure each of these treasures is spotless and to write up the display tags. Detail is key, Aurora. We want our guests to not only admire but understand the significance of each piece."
Jean handed me a pair of pristine white gloves. "Remember to wear these at all times," she reminded me, her voice stern yet kind.
I nodded, accepting the gloves.
With a final glance around the room, Jean said, “It’s lovely to have you back.” The secret door closed softly behind her.
Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the familiar crimson hard-covered book with gold leafing around the edges.
Finally, it was time to get some answers.
I set the gloves on top of one of the display cases, then I approached the book with hesitant steps. The last time I touched it, I was sure I would die. There would be no Ben or mysterious lightning to save me this time.
