Harith dragged in a shaky breath and tapped the page lightly. His finger brushed the worn surface of the parchment—and the book didn't react strangely. It let him touch it.
Daphne jolted, her eyes snapping wide. "Y-You can touch it?"
Harith blinked, equally stunned. He flexed his fingers over the aged leather cover, as if expecting his hand to pass through like it had with Daphne earlier.
"I... I guess I can," he muttered, confusion leaking into his voice. "I thought I couldn't... I mean, earlier—"
"But the book—" Daphne gasped. "Why the book?"
The candle flames flickered violently, throwing wild, monstrous shadows across the walls.
Harith swallowed thickly, dragging his hand away, but then slowly reached again—this time deliberately. His fingertips made contact with the page, pressing down into the dried grooves of the ink.
"I-I could really touch it," he whispered.
