Story Branch
The
bell
above
the
door
chimed
as
Sarah
locked
up
her
small
bookstore
for
the
night.
She
sighed,
thinking
about
another
day
of
dwindling
sales.
As
she
turned
to
leave,
a
soft
knock
made
her
jump.
[p]
An
elderly
man
stood
outside,
his
weathered
face
peering
through
the
glass.
Against
her
better
judgment,
Sarah
reopened
the
door.
[p]
"I'm
sorry,
we're
closed,"
she
said
gently.
[p]
"Please,"
he
whispered,
"I've
come
a
long
way.
I'm
looking
for
a
very
specific
book."
[p]
Something
in
his
eyes
made
Sarah
pause.
"Come
in,
then.
What's
the
title?"
[p]
The
old
man
shuffled
inside,
his
gaze
roaming
the
shelves.
"It
doesn't
have
a
title.
It's
handwritten,
bound
in
green
leather."
[p]
Sarah
frowned.
"I
don't
think
we
have
anything
like
that."
[p]
He
smiled
mysteriously.
"Oh,
but
you
do.
It
was
placed
here
long
ago,
waiting."
[p]
As
if
in
a
trance,
Sarah
found
herself
walking
to
the
back
of
the
store.
Her
hand
reached
out,
pulling
a
small,
dusty
volume
from
behind
some
newer
releases.
The
cover
was
soft,
green
leather.
[p]
The
old
man's
eyes
lit
up.
"At
last,"
he
murmured,
taking
the
book
reverently.
[p]
As
he
opened
it,
a
brilliant
light
filled
the
shop.
Sarah
shielded
her
eyes.
When
she
looked
again,
both
the
man
and
the
book
were
gone.
[p]
On
the
counter
lay
a
note:
"Thank
you
for
guarding
this.
The
fate
of
worlds
rested