Lydia sat in the quiet library, trying to cry, but no tears came. Her eyes stung, her throat felt heavy, but still, not a single tear fell. It was like her body had grown tired of crying. She hugged the book tightly against her chest and tried to breathe slowly. The silence around her made everything feel heavier.
The walls felt too close, the shelves too tall. Even the soft golden light coming through the windows looked cold. The warmth was gone. The comfort she used to find in this room had disappeared. Her thoughts kept circling, never resting. It was exhausting.
She could hear the clock ticking slowly behind her, each tick echoing louder than the last. Her heartbeat followed it like a slow drum. Tick. Tick. Tick. Time was moving, but her world felt stuck.
