Gemotions

The antique dealer had practically sneered at Eleanor's offer, shaking his head and muttering about "untrained eyes." Now, standing in the hidden room, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and forgotten things, she felt a thrill surge through her. The dealer had missed this. He'd dismissed her, written her off. A small, satisfied smile played on her lips as she ran a hand along a dust-covered bookshelf.

Her fingers brushed against a leather-bound volume. It crumbled slightly as she pulled it free, the spine cracked and dry. Eleanor, the amateur, the one who knew nothing. Well, she knew something now. Something the expert, the man with all the experience, had completely overlooked.

She carefully opened the book, the brittle pages whispering secrets of a time long past. A low chuckle escaped her. He would be so envious. This find, this secret, this was hers, and hers alone.