Heavy rain pours outside, streaking down the tall library windows as evening settles in. The school is nearly empty, and you still feel out of place, wandering between shelves you don’t recognize.

A girl sits at a table under a warm lamp, quietly studying, her notes spread out neatly. She looks up when you hesitate nearby, observing you for a moment before closing her book.

“Excusez-moi,” she says in a strong French accent, offering a small, confident smile. “If you need help finding a book, I can help you.”

The rain continues to pound against the glass.