Scarlet in the Shadows

III. Shadows in the Sunlight

The encounter with Callum left a lingering warmth in my chest, like the last sip of coffee that’s just sweet enough to savor. He was everything the giddy girls at the salon had whispered about—ambitious, charming, and undeniably handsome. The kind of man who could sweep someone off their feet with just a look.

But I wasn’t just anyone anymore. I didn’t come to Havenwood to be swept away. No, I had come here to find myself, not lose myself in another man’s promises. Still, “I’ll make sure you’d want it,” echoed in my mind, the words clinging to me like a tease I couldn’t shake off. The challenge in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, not entirely unpleasant. He was... intriguing, a puzzle that tempted me to solve him.

I pushed Callum’s face out of my thoughts, refusing to let him take up space in my head. I needed air, something more grounding than his smile. I wandered into town, the quaint streets lined with flower boxes and the hum of life barely audible beneath the eerie stillness. Havenwood had a way of feeling like a postcard town—charming at first glance, but there was something off, like you were looking at it through glass, unable to touch the real thing.

The clock tower in the square stood frozen at midnight, a mocking reminder that time here wasn’t quite right. The shadows of the dense woods stretched across the cobblestones, their dark tendrils reaching toward me as if they had secrets to tell.

I needed a refuge, a place where my mind could quiet itself. So I found the library, tucked away from the main street like a forgotten memory. The wooden door creaked as I stepped inside, the smell of old paper and dust greeting me like an old friend. The air was thick with silence, broken only by the soft flutter of pages turning somewhere deeper inside.

A bespectacled woman stood behind the counter, her sharp eyes framed by glasses too large for her delicate face. She looked up from her desk, her smile warm but oddly fixed, like it had been practiced in the mirror too many times. “Welcome, dear,” she said, her voice honeyed but with an edge I couldn’t quite place. “Looking for something specific today?”

“Just browsing,” I murmured, my fingers trailing along the spines of the books.

Her gaze followed me as I walked deeper into the aisles, an intensity behind her eyes that made the back of my neck prickle. I tried to ignore it, but the sensation only grew stronger the further I went, as though the books themselves were holding their breath, waiting for me to make the wrong move.

The further I wandered, the more I felt like I was being watched. Not just by the librarian, but by the very walls of the library. The weight of her stare, though, never left me. When I glanced over my shoulder, she was still there, her smile unwavering but her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if she knew something I didn’t.

A book fell from a shelf ahead of me, landing with a soft thud. I jumped, my heart stuttering in my chest. I bent to pick it up, my hands trembling slightly as I turned it over. The cover was old, leather-bound, with no title.

“Careful with that one,” the librarian said, her voice suddenly much closer than I’d expected. I hadn’t heard her move. She was behind me now, standing too still, too quiet.

I swallowed hard, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling creeping up my spine. “What is it?” I asked, looking down at the worn book in my hands.

She hesitated, her smile faltering just for a second. “Just... an old story,” she replied, her eyes darkening with something I couldn’t quite name. “But some stories, dear, are better left unread.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I nodded, placing the book back on the shelf, though a part of me itched to crack it open, to see what secrets it held.

As I moved to leave, the librarian’s smile returned, wider this time, almost unnaturally so. “Come back anytime, Scarlet,” she called, her voice lilting in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

I hadn’t told her my name.