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... ss rows of books that stretched across the walls. The room was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the usual commotion caused by Harold and Gerald.
No distractions this time. No talking objects. Just me and whatever secrets this place had.
I ran my fingers over the spines of countless tomes, their titles fading into obscurity with age. Some were thick with dust, their leather bindings cracking, while others gleamed as if newly placed. My attention landed on one particular book wit ...
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