The notebook sat on the small table in my apartment, its leather cover catching the soft glow of the lamp. I hadn’t dared open it again since last night. Every time I looked at it, a strange weight settled in my chest, like I was teetering on the edge of something vast and unknowable.
Instead, I busied myself with mundane tasks—making tea, tidying up, even rearranging my bookshelf. Anything to avoid the pull of that small, mysterious book. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the way Asmara’s words echoed in my mind: “You are more than you know.”
I was halfway through organizing a stack of old magazines when there was a knock at the door. Startled, I nearly dropped the pile in my hands.
“Coming!” I called, quickly setting them down.
I opened the door to find Ravi standing
