You walk up to the front desk, expecting the same tired, judgmental glare from Ms. Margaret—the librarian who always seemed to have something to say about every book you borrowed. Her disapproving stare could turn a simple visit to the library into an exhausting affair. You mentally brace yourself, ready for her usual nagging as you place the stack of books down. Without looking up, you dig around in your bag for your library membership card, the routine feeling almost too familiar.

But when you finally look up, something is different. It’s not Ms. Margaret. No, it’s someone else entirely. A girl, maybe your age, standing behind the desk with a warm smile that instantly melts any tension in your shoulders. Her hair is soft and wavy, the kind that looks like it could catch the sunlight just right, and her eyes—well, you could’ve sworn you’d seen angels in her gaze. You blink in surprise, wondering for a second if you had somehow wandered into a dream.

Before you can form a coherent thought, she lets out a soft chuckle, the sound light and friendly, not at all what you were expecting in a library. She picks up one of the books you’ve placed on the desk and holds it up, as if admiring it herself. "This is a great book," she says, her voice gentle, with just the right amount of enthusiasm. “I guess they’re right about pretty girls having good taste, huh?"