I am not sure why I let him drag me all the way inside, up a flight of curved stairs and all the way to the back of a long, curved isle of floor to ceiling book shelves.
My nostrils were filled with the musty smell of old books as we walked fast. Suddenly we reached the end of the isle where he dropped to his knees beside a railing that overlooked the lower part of the library. He pulled my arm so that I dropped down beside him.
“What…” I started to ask, but he put a finger to my lips, to silence me.
I could smell the staleness of cigarettes on his fingers.