That night, I walked the familiar path to the library, my shoes crunching against the thin layer of ice forming on the ground. It was late and the library was closed, but that was my favorite time to go. There were no sounds of pages flipping back and forth, no scratching of quills on parchment, no students whispering mindless gossip. Just quiet. I entered the library quietly, beginning to walk through the aisles and aisles of books, breathing in the old book smell and taking my time as I perused the titles.