Getting blamed for a murder she never committed isn't something Danielle expected when she let her anger get the best of her for once in her life.
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Danielle Imchen has always considered her boarding...
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The light emitted by the small, yellow bulbs weren't enough to illuminate the library. Most of the aisles and shelves were veiled by the robe of darkness while the few others stayed half hidden in the shadows. The walls were painted dark brown with small, intricately designed holders holding the yellow lights, fitted at regular intervals from each other. Danielle felt like she had time-travelled to a different world, some two hundred years back.
The library was a L-shaped gigantic room with shelf after shelf stacked with hardcovers- some old, some young. She inhaled the musty smell that seemed to always linger in the air. The ambience of the library always soothed her. Filled with the promise of knowledge and an undertone of sacredness, the library always welcomed Danielle with open arms.
There was only one round table with small stools surrounding it; there was no table or bench in the other section of the library. Closing the door quietly behind her, she approached the round table in front of her. She riffled through the stacks of books in the middle of the table.
"Study materials," she hummed. Turning to her left, she entered the aisle for classic books. The top party which was way out of her reach, was shrouded mostly in darkness. She surveyed the spines of the books, none was the book she was looking for the book the line was from, at least the first part of the line.
She finished surveying the spines of the books that were visible but to no avail. She cursed herself for not bringing the torch. Looking around the table, she found nothing.
Deciding to check the librarian's desk, she headed towards the desk. She felt guilty checking the drawers but her curiosity was killing her. She found a lighter and a candle in one of them. Lighting the candle with the help of the lighter, she placed it on a holder which she found in another drawer. Heading back towards the shelf, she climbed the ladder leaning against it- one hand holding the ladder and the other holding the candle.
"This is how curiosity kills the cat," she murmured, bitterly. "Literally."
The light from the candle illuminated the spines of the book. Letting out a defeated sigh after a few minutes, Danielle climbed down the ladder. She moved on to the next shelf but to no avail. And then to the next, to the next, to next until there were no more shelves containing classic books left.
She huffed and sat on the floor, eyeing the white round intricately designed table in front of her. She was sure that it had been more than half an hour now, she wouldn't be surprised if it was nearing an hour.
"Maybe someone has already issued it," she thought out aloud. Suddenly, she spotted something under the table. The light from the candle illuminated the silhouette of a book. Picking up the candle holder, she walked towards the table. Kneeling she extended the candle under the table, in its light she saw an old, tattered book. Picking it up, she read the title under the candlelight: The Merchants of Venice.
She let out a laugh. She found the book she was looking for. Mentally cursing whoever had dropped the book under the table, she stood back up with a newfound enthusiasm. Putting it on the table and the candle holder beside it, she sat on a stool. Riffling through the pages quickly, she stopped at the page she was looking for.
