The frozen heart

Chapter 25:Unwritten Pages

Chapter 25:Unwritten Pages

Later that evening, Anne sat in front of her computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard as she tried to find anything she could about The Frozen Heart. She felt ridiculous for even doing this. It was just a book—a fantasy novel, probably self-published, maybe rare—but there had to be something about it on the internet. Reviews, forums, a mention in some niche book club... anything.

Her eyes scanned the search results, but the more she clicked, the more her frustration grew. Nothing. No matches. No listings on book retailers, no fan discussions, not even an obscure blog post. It was as if The Frozen Heart didn't exist. Anne's heart began to race again. That couldn't be right—she had read it! She had lived it, almost!

But maybe it was an out-of-print title? she thought, biting her lip. Or it had a limited release? Maybe she remembered the title wrong?

She tried everything. Searching for the author's name, the characters, the plot details. She even attempted to type in the book's opening lines from memory, but again, the internet gave her nothing but unrelated content. It was as if the book had never been published—like it had never existed.

Anne leaned back in her chair, her breath shallow. She rubbed her temples, trying to make sense of the situation. How could this be? A book couldn't just... vanish from existence. Her mind began to spin with irrational possibilities, her nerves fraying with every passing second.

When the clock struck five, marking the end of her workday, Anne shut down her computer with trembling hands. She had barely gotten anything done all day; her thoughts consumed by this strange mystery. Without even thinking, she grabbed her bag and jacket, her mind already set on one thing: getting back home to that book.

Her walk home felt longer than usual, her mind racing as her steps quickened. By the time she reached her apartment, her heart was pounding in her chest, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling inside her. As she opened the door and stepped inside, the familiar quiet of her place seemed eerie, as if the air itself was holding its breath.

Anne wasted no time. She made a beeline for the couch, where The Frozen Heart still lay, untouched since that morning. She stared at it, unease prickling at her skin. The book looked so ordinary, its worn cover and slightly yellowed pages no different from any other novel. But she knew something was off.

Carefully, she picked it up and sat down. Her fingers traced the edges of the cover, feeling its texture beneath her fingertips, as if searching for some hidden clue. It felt... normal. Like any other book. But when she opened it, flipping through the pages, she couldn't shake the creeping sensation that this book was anything but.

The words inside were familiar, yet strange. The changes were still there, as clear as they had been that morning. Anne's pulse quickened as she turned each page, her eyes scanning the text. Some parts she recognized perfectly, just as she had remembered, but others... it was as if they had been rewritten entirely. New details that weren't there before. Characters that hadn't existed in the story she once read.

How could this be? she thought, her mind scrambling for answers. She had read this book months ago—she remembered the story clearly. But now, it was different, almost as if the story was evolving, shifting before her eyes.

A cold chill crept up her spine, and she couldn't shake the growing sense of dread.

Anne closed the book gently, her fingers trembling as she rested it on her lap. She sat there for a moment, staring down at it, her mind racing. None of this made sense. It was just a book. A fictional story. It couldn't change. Books didn't do that.