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“No one else knows about this,” she said in a low voice as she removed more planks until the hatch was fully visible. “Only you.”
“I won’t say anything,” I promised.
“Can you go lock the front door?”
I scurried away, making sure not to bump into any books as I got to the front. I quickly flipped the lock before heading back to where Asami had opened up the secret door. She lowered herself into the dark hole, and I didn’t hesitate to follow her. There wasn’t a bone in my body that didn’t trust her.
“Close the hatch,” she instructed from below me.
I did what she said as I lowered myself down the ladder, apprehension sliding through me from not being able to see anything. My fingers gripped the metal ladder tightly as I slowly moved downward until my feet hit the solid floor. The air was cold, making goose bumps run across my skin.
“Hold on,” Asami muttered. I heard her fumbling in the dark for a few moments before a flashlight beam sliced through the darkness. I stayed near the ladder, watching her grab a lantern from a small shelf and turn it on.
My eyes widened as I took in my surroundings. The room was as large as the one above us, but there were more books crammed into the space than I imagined possible. The walls weren’t even visible because of how high the books were stacked. In one corner, there were boxes labeled newspapers. The only free space was in the center, and I stepped forward, reading the spines of the books closest to me.
“These are books PARA wants destroyed,” she explained tightly.
“You’re hiding them,” I said in shock. “Asami, if they find out what you’re doing, they’ll kill you.”
“I know.”
“Why are you showing me?” I asked in a small voice.
“Because I won’t always be here, and I need someone to carry on what I started.”
“What you started?” I repeated, my eyes glued to the books.
“I want you to know everything,” she said, grabbing a thick book and handing it to me. “Some of these are nonfiction—history. How civilians fought back against dictatorship. Others are stories of fiction. Ones of hope and love. Something PARA has tried to smother out. I can only tell you so many stories of my own happiness. These books…they’ll show you why life can be worth living, not just surviving. It will give you inspiration.”
I stared at the cover of the book she gave to me. “Inspiration for what?”
“To fix this cruel world. When the time comes—when people realize PARA will never stop and things will only get worse—there needs to be whispers of how good life was.” A tear trailed down her cheek. “There needs to be hope. Because an uprising will happen.”
My heart pounded against my ribs. Tim and Jill had hinted at the same thing. Asami nodded toward the boxes.
“Those are all clippings from when the war started. As the years go by, more and more who have no idea of the past or how it was before will be born into this world.” She quickly brushed her tears away. “I know you’re young, Kali. And it’s not fair that I’m putting this burden on you, but you are the only one I trust.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, waving my hand toward the books. “I can read all of these and learn everything. But I can’t make a change, not against PARA.”
“Maybe not alone,” she agreed. “But you’re not alone. You have your friends. Tim and Jill. Whispers of change can give people hope. Something that has been fading. I’m not saying it will happen anytime soon, but at some point, it will.”
“I’m an orphan,” I said thickly. “A child nobody wanted. No one will ever listen to me.”
“You’re strong, Kali. A survivor,” she said gently. “Promise me that you’ll read these. And when the time is right, share it.”
“When will that be?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at her, my mind swirling with all this new information. I wasn’t sure what she wanted from me, but I couldn’t deny the slice of excitement at learning about the past. I wanted to know everything.
“You have to keep your distance from me,” she said, sadness clinging to every word. “We don’t need PARA becoming suspicious. The older you get, the more eyes are on you. Only come in here every once in a while, and I’ll give you books to read. But only read them in a safe place.”
“But I love coming here,” I protested.
“I know. I love it when you’re here too. But this is more important. PARA leaves me alone because they see me as an old lady who keeps to herself. You coming and going can attract attention that we can’t have.”
I nodded, a lump growing in my throat. Her words sounded final, and I had a feeling the library wouldn’t be my comfort place anymore. I blinked back tears, my hold on the book tightening.
