The university library was a sanctuary of silence, where time seemed to slow and the outside world faded away. Soft rays of afternoon sunlight filtered through tall windows of ancient wooden shelves.
The faint scent of aged paper and polished oak filled the air. Kimberly Carter settled into her favorite corner nook, a small haven tucked between towering stacks of poetry collections.
Her fingers gently opened a worn copy of Sylvia Plaths peoms, the pages fragile from years of turning. But this book was special, not just for the secret that lived in the margins.
She pulled out her pen and carefully added a line of verse beside a poem about love and loss.
Her handwriting was neat but shaky, revealing the trembling emotions beneath. " Love is a whisper lost in hr storm, a fragile hope we're afraid to own". She paused, biting her lip, then scribbled a small note beneath it. " Do you believe in love, or is it just a cruel story we tell ourselves?"
Kimberly's breath caught as the imagined the person who might someday read her words. Would they understand that pain? Would they see the truth behind her silence?