The room felt strangely cold, as if the walls themselves knew that Sienna’s hands were about to touch something far older than her. She stood at the small desk, her fingers hovering over the leather-bound journal that lay in front of her. The moment her hand made contact, a strange jolt shot through her arm, like the pulse of a heartbeat, one that wasn’t her own.
"Are you sure you want to open it?" Harvey’s voice broke the silence, his usual calm now tinged with something close to fear. He was standing by the doorway, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, watching her with a keen, wary gaze.
Sienna didn’t look up from the journal. Her fingers brushed lightly against the ornate cover, tracing the gold engraving that seemed to shimmer with an ancient power. It was as if the very journal
