I stood there for a moment, my head tilted to one side, waiting for the girl to return. But she never did.
I swayed on my feet, losing my sense of balance for a perilous fraction of a second. I blinked furiously, desperately trying to will the dark fog to lift from my eyes. I had a strange thought that, if I could miraculously regain my sight, I could chase after Sarah.
"Bryon?" My mother's voice startled me out of me reverie.
"Sorry," I frowned, pretending to be deep in thought, "I was thinking about something,"
She put one hand on my forearm and the other on my shoulder, guiding me to the stairs. I still had Brisinger in my hand. Mom pried it loose from my grip.
"We'll get this checked out, if you like, and then we'll head home," She told me, her words like thick, warm honey.
I halted in my tracks and began to back pedal, "No, no. That's alright, I'll leave it here," I didn't explain why I didn't want to check it out, nor was I questioned, but the truth was that I didn't have any other excuse to spend countless hours at the library. I spent so much time there in the hopes that Sarah would appear.
I felt my way to the shelf, carefull reading the spines with my forefinger. I found the empty slot and slid Brisinger back into its rightful place. I whispered its title and imagine the book bursting into flame.
My mother took my hand and led me down the stairs.
I wondered if Dad would be home.