Page 164 of Sage Haven
Something I didn’t recognize.
But it was… beautiful, too.
I was changing.
Becoming someone else.
Someone lighter.
Someone I thought I’d lost a long time ago.
I woke with that restlessness humming through my bones. A current of energy I hadn’t felt in years—raw, electric anticipation sparking just under my skin. Like something was waiting for me. Something important. Something I couldn’t ignore anymore.
And before I even realized it, my feet were carrying me toward the library.
When I opened the sliding door, the scent of cedar and old books hung heavy in the air, grounding and intoxicating all at once. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, housing stories, knowledge, and secrets bound in leather and ink. There was reverence in the way it was arranged. Not just neatness, but care. Respect for what lived inside these pages.
It was a map of Reich’s mind.
And I wanted to explore every inch of it.
I found myself cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by books. Their weight comforting. Their presence familiar. I trailed my fingertips along the spines before selecting one—The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas.
Fitting.
A story of betrayal. Of survival. Of a man who rose from his own grave and became something more than anyone thought possible.
I flipped through the pages. Paused. And then I saw them.
Marks in the margins. Underlines. Notes scrawled in tidy, slanted handwriting. I recognized it from the note he had left me earlier.
Reich’s handwriting.
He had left pieces of himself here. Quiet rebellions against untouched pages. Little fragments of thought, insight, sometimes sharp, sometimes sardonic. And sometimes…unexpectedly gentle.
Curious, I pulled another book. Then another.
And another.
Each one bore his imprint.
And something inside me softened.
He left marks. He left proof of his existence. His thoughts. His struggles. His questions.
And I realized—
He wasn’t just living in this world. He was trying to makesense of it.
Just like me.
A slow smile curved my lips.
He did things his own way.
It was inspiring.
And it made me want to do more than just exist in someone else’s narrative.
