Some dreams were never measured by whether they were finished.
Only by whether someone else chose to continue them.
The following Monday arrived beneath a sky brushed with soft autumn sunlight.
Westwood High welcomed another ordinary morning.
The Reading Corner buzzed quietly with students exchanging books.
The Hope Tree swayed gently beside the First Chapter Bench, its new leaves catching the light.
Inside the library, several cardboard boxes sat neatly beside the circulation desk.
Each one carried the same handwritten label.
From Ashwood House Library
Noah smiled as soon as he saw them.
"They're here."
The librarian looked up from sorting returned books.
"William said there were more donations than he expected."
Jason appeared almost instantly.
"I volunteer to inspect every
