Teresa's days were a careful balancing act. The library job she held on weekends was both a blessing and a burden — the only way she could pay her fees and keep her fragile independence. Saturdays and Sundays, she rose early, dressed modestly, and took the familiar walk through the winding streets to the old university library, where the scent of aged paper and polished wood wrapped around her like a comforting cloak.
That morning was no different. The sky hung low with mist, and the faint sound of early birdsong drifted from the trees lining the quiet path. Teresa pulled her jacket tighter around herself, clutching her satchel filled with books she had cataloged during the week. The campus was beginning to stir with students, but she avoided the crowds, preferring solitude.
As she stepp
