The musty smell of the antique bookshop usually comforted Elara. It was her sanctuary, a place where the weight of the world lifted with each turn of a brittle page. But today, the scent felt heavy, a suffocating blanket. Her daughter, Maya, now ten, had caught the collecting bug. Not just any bug, but Elara's own, decades-long obsession with first editions of fantasy novels.
Elara watched Maya, her face illuminated by the dusty light filtering through the window, as she meticulously examined a first edition of "The Hobbit." The girl's brow was furrowed in concentration, her tongue peeking out from the corner of her mouth. Elara remembered that expression. The thrill of the hunt, the delicate dance with history.
It was wonderful, seeing Maya’s passion, truly. Yet, a peculiar pressure built in Elara's chest. She had a sudden, deep urge to clear her throat. All those years, her precious collection had been a solace. Now, it was…shared.
"Find anything interesting?" Elara finally asked, her voice a little higher than usual.
Maya looked up, her eyes shining. "This one's perfect, Mom! It's in such good condition!"
A small sigh escaped Elara's lips. She forced a smile. "That's wonderful, honey. Wonderful." She felt a sudden need to leave the shop, to breathe.