The cavernous chamber rose three levels to a pitched, glass ceiling. Covered in layers of soot and bird droppings, the skylight offered little light.
At floor level, massive desks lined the room. Dusty study lamps, long dark, sat forlornly on the tabletops.
Rolling ladders hung from rods above bookshelves running the length of the walls on each level. A heavy layer of grime clung to the rungs.
Only the path worn down the center of the first floor carpet showed recent use.
Squeaky wheels on Lucretia’s book trolley broke the eerie silence. Out of habit, she hissed a bitter “shhh!”

The irony of the “shush!”
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