The massive, arched windows of the downtown public library let in long, pale shafts of terrestrial sunlight, but Roxy did not feel the warmth.
She sat hunched over a heavy oak table in the deepest, most secluded corner of the restricted reference section. Before her was a mountain of heavy textbooks, ancient mythological encyclopedias, and dense academic journals detailing the bleeding edge of theoretical quantum physics.
She had been there since the massive glass doors unlocked at dawn. She had been there the day before, and the day before that.
Roxy was operating on a dangerous, manic desperation. She had completely stopped looking at the clock. She had completely stopped listening to her body.
