PERDITA

..8..

HER POV

Books are like friends, they share their dreams,

In ink and paper, life redeems.

Lost in stories, time drifts away,

In solitude, she learns to play.

Each word a door, each line a key,

In the library's heart, she's truly free.

Among the shelves, her spirit soars

..

Roaming the library all night, I lost myself in the pages, exploring worlds crafted by words. Fiction became my refuge, especially after Ridhi introduced me to romance novels. What began as a casual interest quickly turned into an addiction. Though the shelves lacked modern dark romances, the timeless tales of soft love filled me with butterflies.

As I leaned against the shelf, my eyes grew heavy while reading the line, "and he kissed her on—" The words blurred, and fatigue washed over me. I closed the book, setting it aside, feeling an odd mix of emotions.

I couldn't muster the energy to rise, so I wrapped my shawl around myself and let my eyes flutter shut. The silence enveloped me, a comforting blanket. I curled my knees to my chest, and in that stillness, my mind drifted into a blank space, where thoughts faded and peace settled in.

...

"Oh God, she's burning!" I heard someone exclaim, a hand resting gently on my forehead. My fluttering eyelids opened slowly, the remnants of a peaceful sleep still wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

"Okay, sir," I heard him say as he tucked his phone into his pocket. It was the man from yesterday, the one who had taken on a fatherly role in my life, even if just for a moment.

"Uncle," I murmured softly, a smile creeping onto my lips despite my discomfort.

"Why were you sleeping here? Do you have any idea how high your fever is?" he scolded gently, concern etched across his face. Part of me relished the attention and the care he showed.

He helped me to my feet, supporting me as we made our way out of the library and toward the room I could call mine for the next few days.

"You need to rest for a while. The doctor will be here soon," he insisted, but I shook my head stubbornly.

"No, I'll be fine. No doctor needed," I replied, dropping myself onto the bed with a sigh.

Truthfully, I couldn't pinpoint why my entire body ached or why this overwhelming weakness had settled in.

"I might have agreed if I were the one who called the doctor," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, but I could see the worry lingering in his eyes.

"I won't be meeting any doctor," I said, rubbing my forehead.

Fifteen minutes later, I lay staring at the ceiling as a female doctor examined my wrist with her stethoscope.

From her hurried movements, it was clear she had rushed over from home. I couldn't bring myself to refuse her, especially with the way her frustration was written all over her face.

She looked to be in her mid-thirties.

"It's just a cold. It happens when the temperature changes suddenly, and you're also feeling weak," she said, standing up.