Elizabeth's POV

The air inside the old library was heavy, stale with years of dust and abandonment. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure whoever was here could hear it. The glow of the phone in the distance dimmed, shifting as the figure tilted it, then pocketed it, leaving me in near-darkness.

I swallowed hard. My voice came out thinner than I wanted. “Who are you?”

The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they moved—slow, deliberate steps against the cracked floor tiles. I could make ...