<p><strong>The Book That Reads You Back</strong></p><p>Casey's fingers traced the leather spine of the ancient tome, dust motes dancing in the amber light that filtered through the library's stained-glass windows. The book had caught her eye not because of its ornate binding or its placement on the highest shelf, but because it seemed to pulse with its own inner light, like a star trapped in parchment and ink.</p><p>She'd always found solace in this hidden corner of the library, where centuries-old volumes whispered their secrets to those patient enough to listen. But this book—this one was different. As she opened it, the fresh scent of newly dried ink wafted up, impossibly fresh for something that looked so old.</p><p>The first page was blank, save for a single line that appeared as she watched: Casey Mitchell enters the library at 3:47 PM on a Tuesday afternoon