Books were scattered all over the floor. They were pulled from the shelves to eliminate them from the search. Row after row he'd been through, nothing stood out. Lying on the floor were editions of scores of books that he had enjoyed reading as a child. Books he had enjoyed reading to Cheryl. Alice in Wonderland crashed face down, pages splayed. He felt extremely disrespectful to treat such great writing with such contempt. But it was quickly joined by the Wizard of Oz, then The Works of Arthur Conan Doyle. They would bring him no joy now. He was looking for something else, though he wasn't sure what it was.

He stopped. He studied the spine of the next book he was about to throw on the floor. 'Leonard Rhine – The Monster Lurks' was staring back at him. The smeared message in the cubicle hadn't been a warning, it was a book title. He looked at the jacket. A picture of the author leered grimly from the back cover, like a bad horror novel. It proclaimed his certificate in parapsychology – perhaps it was a bad horror novel.

Harry noticed that a page near the middle of the book was considerably dog eared. He flicked it open. It was part of the way through a chapter:

'Chapter 3: Manifestation of Delusions

…poltergeists are among these. Negative emotions like fear, worry or stress manifest into external energy with physical effects. Nightmares have, in some cases, been shown to trigger them. However, such phenomena do not appear to happen to just anyone. Although it's not clear why, adolescents, especially girls are prone to such occurrences...'

It carried on in that vein. Ultimately unconvincing and seemingly useless information. He scanned the rest of the book. It discussed ghosts, demons, ball lightning and spontaneous combustion among other things. It had all been a waste of time. He should have been looking for Cheryl. Harry threw the book towards the pile in disgust. But the books were gone. The carpet was clear.

A reading lamp at a dark wooden table illuminated an open book. Neither the book nor the lamp had been there when he arrived.

It was a little old and yellowed, handsomely bound and well illustrated. A fairytale, for which he couldn't find a title or an author. It was obviously well read and, while old, well cared for.

He read to himself from the open page:

'Hearing this, the hunter armed with bow and arrow and said, "I will kill the lizard." But upon meeting his opponent he held back taunting, "Who's afraid of a reptile?". At this the furious Lizard hissed, "I'll swallow you in a single bite!". Then the huge creature attacked, jaws opened wide. This was what the man wanted. Calmly drawing his bow, he shot into the lizards gaping mouth. Effortlessly the arrow flew, piercing the defenseless maw and the Lizard fell down dead.'

Harry was still confused. Was he missing something?

He shut the book.

Questions raced through his mind; why had he been led here?; whose path was he following?; was it the right path?; where was Cheryl?

That last thought stayed in his mind for a moment. He wondered what she might be doing now, who she might be with, how they were treating her. It occurred to him that he might never see her again.

The familiar feeling of despair that he had been keeping under control began to creep back in. Alone in the dark, with no hope.

A rustling disturbed his self pitying. Something was moving around the reference section. He was not as alone as he thought.

He approached it, hoping not to attract its attention. He could almost see through it. In fact, it was barely there, a shadow, but it moved as if it were a child.

It seemed to sense him and twisted to face him. He caught a glimpse of something else in the shadow. It was a translucent girl, wearing a blue dress like the teenager he'd nearly hit on the highway. However, this child was much younger, around Cheryl's age. She was quite similar to her in appearance. Could she be his daughter?

The shadow suddenly darted away from him and passed through the wall of the library as if it hadn't been there. Harry opened the door and chased after her, shouting for her to wait. But she kept running.

He wasn't going to let her get away this time.