Standing in the library, Sage turned in a circle, waiting as Maddy stood staring at the back wall where leather-bound books Sage had not yet inspected lay on shelves.

"Are we waiting for something?" Sage asked.

"A sign," Maddy whispered.

"From where?" Sage asked, "the afterlife? Another relative to jump out and try to make us wet ourselves?"

Maddy chuckled, "No ... from Rosemary."

"Whose Rosemary?" Sage whispered, looking around, "Must I expect a ghost to appear, a light to flicker, or something strange and unnatural to happen?"

Maddy stared at Sage as she continued to look around as though expecting something unusual to happen; suddenly, she erupted in a belly-tugging laugh, folding over, resting her hands on her knees and laughing.

"What's so funny?" Sage asked, bending down and whispering close to Maddy's ear, "Am I supposed to be laughing too?"

"Oh, Sage," Maddy chuckled, straightening and wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks, "you are refreshing. Everything about you is ... refreshing."

"That is a first," Sage said, narrowing her gaze on Maddy, "never had anyone tell me I was refreshing to have around. Strange ... weird ... not ambitious enough ... oh yes, don't forget ... not profit-focused enough ... all of those but refreshing ... this is a first."

"I'm glad I could give you a new first," Maddy said, slowly moving toward the back of the library, "this section isn't normally open to ... the public."

"Until now, I was classed as public?" Sage asked.

"All the residents who live here are classed as 'the public'", Maddy said, making quote signs, "you were as well until I heard your full name. I couldn't understand why you've been so interested ... perhaps more than that ... intrigued and obsessed about the house and the history of the cove and village. I'm sure you'll tell me you always become engrossed in your work, but even you know you're more drawn into this assignment than usual."

Sage stopped cocking her head as Maddy continued toward the back of the library, "I" m sure you've made a note of this section of the library," Maddy turned, stopped moving and frowned at Sage, standing staring strangely at her, "Sage, are you okay?"

"How did you know I was more engrossed than usual?" Sage asked, slowly moving toward Maddy, who blushed.

"I asked Albert for any information he could find on you," Maddy said, "I ... wanted to know more about you. I couldn't place where I had experienced your ... energy and creativity and frankly your way of putting things ... before. It crossed my mind that perhaps we had met somewhere or been part of a group while I was studying."

"So you read some of my articles," Sage said, nodding, "and?"

"You are very thorough," Maddy said, "you know your subject matter, but it's more than that ... it's as though you live whatever you write. You're emotionally invested in what you're researching and putting on paper. I suppose a writer, painter, or musician gives us part of themselves when they create something, but it's deeper than that with you."

"Is that a bad thing?" Sage asked, worry creasing her brow and an uncomfortable feeling as though Maddy was looking at her soul made her shift.

"Not at all," Maddy said, shaking her head, "I think you bring something really special to what you write, and perhaps that's why you work for the company you do."

"How do you know who I work for?" Sage asked, "Did you get Albert to research me?"

"He didn't have to," Maddy said, "he was called and was asked how the trip went. It was a man from the company you work for."

"Oh, I hope he said it went fine," Sage said, "I wouldn't want him to get into any trouble."

"Albert will never get into trouble," Maddy said, "apart from the articles, it was also when you were so absorbed in the journals you were reading. I sensed you were surprised that you never heard me knocking or entering the room as if you were living the moment written in the journals. It was then I realised you were more intrigued than you normally are. But I still cannot place where I know your energy and expressions from."

"Perhaps we crossed paths and never realised it," Sage said, shrugging and smiling, "so now tell me ... why are you taking me to the back of the library to the secret spot? Do we need a password or secret handshake?"

Maddy grinned, "No, nothing like that, but we will need gloves."

"Awesome ... old books," Sage said, nodding, "bring it on."

Maddy handed Sage a pair of white cotton gloves and waited until she had pulled them on before moving to the end of the row of thick leather-bound books.

"This part of the library holds the family bibles," Maddy said, glancing at Sage, taking in each book as they moved past.

"That was plural," Sage said, "all these books are family bibles."

"They are," Maddy said, "when one is full, another arrives."

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"How does whoever sends them know they are full?" Sage asked.

"No idea," Maddy said, "they just do; I call it the use of magical pixie dust."

"Love that," Sage said, "so what is in one of these books you need to show me, and how does it tie in with my name and your reaction to my name?"

"All valid questions," Maddy said, moving to the far end of the row and stopping in front of the newest leather-bound volume, "over twenty years ago, the last entry was made in this book. It was made by Charlotte's great-great-great-great granddaughter, who lived in this house for many years before leaving it to run the family business as the last remaining heir in the line stipulated by Simon. She wrote her heir and successor to her estate in this volume. No one but the line of Charlotte knows of it or what that name is ..." Maddy cleared her throat, inhaling before turning to Sage, "... and now that you are here and writing about the history of the house, village and legend, perhaps you need to know why I reacted as I did."

"Okay," Sage said, "but what does this heir have to do with what I've been assigned to do?"

"There was something left that gives more insight into the truth of what happened, why it happened, and insight, suggestions and possible proof into how everything can be returned to the true heritage of this place," Maddy said, waiting as Sage took in all she had to say.

"So whoever that heir is will have what I need to write the truth ... got it," Sage whispered, nodding. "I've been looking for the truth ... not just information passed down but ... the truth of the tragedy. If I can right the wrong perpetrated back then, I'll be happy to try."

Nodding, Maddy smiled, "I'm glad you said that."

Sage watched Maddy slowly open the book, gently turning the pages of names listed as far back as a century. Finally, she stopped turning, looked at the page reverently, and stepped aside to let Sage see it.

Looking down at the page, Sage let her eyes run down the list of names; some were familiar, others known to her. Frowning, she looked at Maddy.

"Keep reading," Maddy whispered, waiting as Sage returned her gaze to the page.

"I know some of these names," Sage whispered, running her gloved finger along the edge of the page as her eyes took in the names. Suddenly, she gasped; everything around her seemed suspended.

"You need to breathe, Sage," Maddy's voice broke in on her shock, "Sage.." she felt herself being shaken, "... breathe."

Suddenly, her lungs engaged, and the air filled the suspended void. Still, she stared at the page, unable to process what she saw or understand what she was reading. It felt as though she had been gut-punched and held underwater at the same time. Swallowing on a dry throat, Sage hummed softly, nibbled at her lower lip and shook her head. She needed clarification and quickly.

"Who ...um ... is Rosemary Channing?" Sage asked, her words fluttering disjointedly on the breeze.

"She is the last in the line of Charlotte's descendants..." Maddy said.

"That isn't true, and she knows it," Sage said, "I ... she ...."

Sage blinked quickly as tears gathered; moving away from the book, Sage sank into a large, comfortable stool, hugging herself.

"Sage, what is it?" Maddy asked, squatting in front of her. Concern shining softly in her eyes, "What don't I know? What am I not understanding?"

"When my mother gave birth to me, she was too sick to look after me," Sage said, "I grew up with my father's mother," Sage said, inhaling sharply before continuing, "It was she who named me. I stayed with her many times over the years. During the school holidays, I visited her over the festive season. I sometimes stayed with her when I couldn't be at school ... for whatever reason. She became more of a mother to me than my own. I was happier with her, around her, and talking to her; she discovered I loved researching and writing. She paid for all my education as my mother wanted to dictate what I was to learn, where I was to go to study, what I was to study and so on."

"Like trying to make you marry someone she liked," Maddy said softly.

"Yeah, it was my grandmother who gave me a list of companies who would be interested in my skill set," Sage whispered, "she gave me the strength to be myself. Then, one day, she disappeared."

"Where did she go?" Maddy asked.

"I don't know," Sage murmured, "but it was after I started working at the firm I'm currently with."

"You said something about her knowing it's not the truth," Maddy said, "what do you mean by that?"

"Rosemary would have known she wasn't the last in the line of Charlotte," Sage said, "if she lived here, she knew that Charlotte never left this place, and her children would have lived on here. There was no way that Rosemary would have said something like that and mean it ..." Sage's words trailed off, " ... not unless ..."

"Unless what Sage?" Maddy asked.

"What if she was forced to acknowledge she was the last in Charlotte's line? Perhaps even write it down or sign something that could be used as proof," Sage said, deep in thought.

"It's possible, but why would someone do that?" Maddy asked, "Simon had it locked in for a million years."

"He did, but what if someone found a loophole, just like Simon?" Sage said.

Maddy stared at her, "They forced Rosemary to say she was the last in the line of ... Charlotte. Do you think that is why she disappeared?"

"I don't know, did she disappear?" Sage asked.

Maddy stood staring at Sage for a moment before nodding.

"Have you ever seen a picture of Rosemary Channing?" Maddy asked.

"Can't say that I have," Sage said, "do you have one?"

"Of course we do," Maddy smiled, "over here."

Sage followed Maddy to a panelled section of the library, gasping in surprise when Maddy pressed the panel. The wood slid along the wall, opening an area filled with pictures of women who were part of the line.

"Why are these in here?" Sage asked.

"In a world where men think they rule and will only have around them what they dictate," Maddy said, glancing over her shoulder, "women must keep their own memories alive."

"Isn't that the truth," Sage whispered, moving toward the hundreds of paintings and photos displayed, "there are so many of them."

"There are ..." Maddy said, softly pointing at a framed picture of a woman with two children on either side of her, "that is Rosemary Channing."

Picking up the picture, Sage looked down at a younger version of a beloved face, "You're sure this is Rosemary Channing?"

"Yes, I am," Maddy said, "if you want to check, her name is on the back, along with her children's names."

Turning it over, Sage read the names, shaking her head.

"This feels so ... surreal ... that's my father's name," she whispered emotionally, "and my aunt's."

"What are you saying, Sage?" Maddy said, watching Sage trace Rosemary's face.

"The woman in this photo is my grandmother," Sage said in hushed tones before looking at Maddy, "... and I know exactly why she has sent me here."