I stood there for what felt like an eternity, the cold air biting at my skin as I stared down at the leather-bound notebook in my hands. It felt heavier than it should, as though it carried more than just paper and ink. A part of me wanted to toss it aside, to walk away and forget this strange encounter ever happened, but curiosity had already taken root, wrapping its tendrils around my thoughts.
With a deep breath, I opened the notebook. The faint scent of aged paper wafted up, and I flipped past the first few blank pages to find a handwritten note scrawled in an elegant, slanted script.
“Lux, this is only the beginning. Trust your instincts. You are more than you know. Turn to page 11.”
I froze. My name. How did Asmara know my name? My fingers trembled as I quickly flipped to page 11,
