Margaret stepped into her father's study. This room was sacred. Sacred because he was always so absorbed when he was here. Margaret thought back about all the times that no one could ever reach him. It seems like they wouldn't see him for days. Was that right? Doing what exactly? Sure he wrote books and taught classes but was that really it? It didn't feel like enough to Margaret. Father was gone now. What did any of it matter anyway?
She mindlessly ran her fingers along bindings, flipped pages of the familiar German grammar books and history books that lay open along shelves and tables when something in the room caught her eye. A book near the window seemed to glow as the afternoon's sun rays shown down over it. It almost appeared on display for her. It certainly seemed out of place among the usual mess of this room. Being the curious one, Margaret walked over to it. A Psychology text book? This certainly wasn't the mystery that she was hoping for or expecting. Margaret shrugged and was about to walk away when a voice inside her wouldn't let her.
Don't leave. Open it. You have to know.
I have to know, Margaret thought. She ran her fingers along the book's hard cover and opened it to the first page. The words in the middle immediately caught her attention and she knew should didn't have to read any further: Copyright 1926.
1926. Nineteen twenty-Six. The year was 1914. Margaret was sure of it. She was 14 years old. Why did the book say that? Margaret looked around the room again. Everything looked older when she looked closely. It actually did. Books that she had seen as recently as a few days ago were more worn. That's impossible. She jerked her head behind her. Was someone watching? She thought she saw a shadow.
Suddenly the world went black as Margaret heard the faraway echo of her head hitting the wood floor.