Asher’s POV
I finally found my dad’s diary. Three months of searching… three months of silence. Too much silence. No word from Zach. No word from Zara. It’s as if she’s vanished into thin air. I’d like to see it as a good sign, but the unease in my chest says otherwise.
The diary is coated in dust, edges rough from age. I brush it off and try to open it—nothing. The cover refuses to budge. My brows knit. “What the hell…” The leather creaks under my grip as I force it, but it doesn’t even twitch.
I glance around the abandoned library, its air thick with the scent of old paper and neglect. My gaze snags on a small brass key resting on a cracked shelf. A humorless chuckle escapes me—what use is a key for a book?
But the moment my fingers close around it, the metal warms in my palm. A fain
