My name is Sophie Bennett. I’m a 26-year-old university dropout and a part-time librarian or will be next week. It's now April and finally warm enough to wear a skirt. For me, that is. I usually wear blue slim jeans and a T-shirt, and when it's chilly, I also wear a cardigan, hoodie, or light jacket. My shoulder-length blond hair is in a high ponytail, nothing fancy. It is slightly curly and has a naturally pinkish hue. I hated my hair as a kid, but nowadays it seems fashionable, so I am okay with it. I like simple things, like my clothes and everyday life. However, the past 10 months have been rough and tough for my aunt and me.

My beloved 77-year-old Aunt Mabel, who is the most precious person in my life who raised me since childhood and with whom I lived, fell ill. I worried myself nearly to death, which caused me to fall behind in my studies, which was a source of all sorts of problems as well. As a result, I decided to leave the university, at least until I had everything sorted out, saved a little bit of money, and had my very own place to stay.

Unfortunately, Aunt Mabel had never truly recovered, and she had to move into a retirement home. To cover the costs, she had to sell the house we lived in. That was my home, OUR HOME, in capital letters, along with my private room, which I dearly miss. As a poor student, I could not buy it or pay the bills for the retirement home. So, that meant that I also had to move. At the time, I was still studying, so I tried to get a cheap bed and space from the university dormitory, but it was full. Luckily, my fellow student Mary became an exchange student for a year, and I got to live in her apartment temporarily. The rent is quite low for that kind of flat, but it is quite high for me.

As a result, all of this made my world shake, rattle, and roll—but not in a good way. I was feeling down and listless and was ready to give up. Then my savior, in the form of a book, came and brightened my day again: Evander Blackwood's latest novel, "Mystery at the Shakespeare Club." I would not have chosen to read that particular book, as his works are not my usual genre. However, we had to select a newly published book for a university assignment.

I probably should have chosen a different book, as this decision will lead me to attend a book signing event right now, and this encounter will yet again change my life irrevocably.

As I walk down the bustling city street, my high ponytail swinging back and forth, I feel happy for a long time. I hold tightly to the shoulder strap of my large bag, my palms sweating and fingers itching. My heart is about to escape up to the sky and fly. I am, for heaven's sake, going to meet my literary hero, a live one. Usually, my literary heroes were long gone, like Jane Austen, the Brontë sisters, and Victor Hugo. But now I have the opportunity to meet my new hero, Evander Blackwood face-to-face.

He is a famous writer, almost a superstar. He is a 32-year-old handsome man with almost black, short, unruly hair and deep blue eyes. His style is a mixture of old gentleman's and modern relaxed looks. There just was something about him that made him stand out, and his mystery books were very well received, even in the literary circles. He recently published a new book, a collection of short stories. I read from the interview that the stories were inspired by his youth experiences in Sweden, where he lived for almost 10 years before returning to the States. The new book is the reason for today's signing event. Perhaps I will buy it from the store now that I'm going there?

As I continue my fast-paced walk, my mind starts to drift to the job I'm about to start at the local branch library. I am going to be only a part-time helper, but it is not ideal for the situation I'm in. But it is better than nothing, and I need money badly. But as a bonus, I'm surrounded by books and knowledge, and able to introduce new reading experiences to customers.

That leads my thoughts to turn back to my elderly aunt, and I can't help but feel concerned about how she is adjusting to her new environment. Is she lonely? Is she missing our lovely little home as much as I do? I make a note to myself to visit her tomorrow and bring along some of her favorite books to read to her. She loves that tremendously. It was a habit we developed when I had just moved in to live with my aunt. I missed my parents dearly, and I was not able to calm down. But when I read aloud, I could finally find my peace. That helped me through that awful period. I was only 12 at the time, an age when life and all began to become difficult anyway.

Yes, I'm an orphan. My parents died in a car accident one rainy day in September. They were arriving from the airport to pick me up, but they never arrived or picked me up. That time was confusing, and my memories are all blurred. For some reason, it has never occurred to me to ask what had happened. One day I have to talk with Aunt Mabel while she is still able to remember.