The buried third
“The knife stabbed the fork, knowing well it would never fit with the spoon again.
But molds don’t change hearts—hearts are changed by what they endure.
You were the one who cut the cord between us.
You stopped one heart, and changed the other.
I hate you… deeply.”
“And I love you… deeply.”
In 1990s New York, a young girl stepped out of her home at ten in the morning, wearing a blue coat and a black skirt. She was headed to a nearby bookstore in her neighborhood, hoping to buy one of the first copies of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. She had read the first book and absolutely loved it.
*She pushed the door open.*
Pushed it? Yes—because this wasn’t her first time here. Besides, the librarian was a close friend from hers.
As soon as he saw her, the librarian—who also went to the same school as her—stood to greet her, just like always.
“Ilori!” Fred said. “Three weeks without a visit? You’re such a mystery.”
*He smiled after saying it."
“Don’t worry, I’m okay. But, you know... being the daughter of two doctors means constant pressure to study—especially this year. It’s supposed to determine our entire future.”
*Ilori replied.*
“I work hard because I’m here on a scholarship from Italy. You work hard to meet your parents’ expectations. Same action, different reasons.”
*Fred said, gently adjusting his glasses.*
“Brilliant analysis, Fred.
So, do you still have the second Harry Potter book? I’m dying to read it!”
*Ilori asked eagerly.*
“All sold out. You know it came out just last week… But of course, I saved a copy for you, gorgeous. I’m your friend who knows you—remember?”
*Fred handed her the book with a teasing tone.*
“Love you, my friend.”
*Ilori said, smiling.*
“Sit here and wait for me. I’ll check what that kid wants and bring you some coffee.”
*Fred pointed to a chair across from the register.*
Ilori sat down and said,
“You know, I feel relieved that young people still read. I thought everyone had drifted off to video games since last decade.”
“You were right. It’s just a trending series. Once it ends, the reading hype dies with it. Everyone prefers video games now. Honestly, I think manga is better than your book anyway.”
A voice spoke—a different one from Fred’s. It was the boy who had just walked in, adding with a sarcastic tone.
Ilori paused for a second, then replied,
“Alright.”
“Alright? Very good.”
*The boy smirked and lit a cigarette.*
“You smoke? This place is tiny. Did it not occur to you that someone here might have asthma? Do you even think?”
*Ilori asked, baffled.*
“You overthink things. And I don’t see either of you gasping for air right now… So we’re good.”
*he said flatly, not even bothering to look at her.*
“You seem too young to be smoking. Try thinking long-term.”
*Ilori said calmly.*
“You girls are unbearable. Leave me alone. You sound like my grandma.”
*he snapped, grabbed the manga he wanted, and walked out immediately.*
---
In the weeks that followed, nothing particularly significant happened in Ilori’s life—until two months later...
“I missed you, cinnamon stick!”
Eliana exclaimed as soon as she saw her childhood friend—her past and present—Ilori.
“I missed you too, even though we were just at the café two days ago... But I guess I just miss seeing you at school. It’s just...”
“A different feeling.”
*They both said at the same time.*
“I love you, sis. Look at us—soul syncing!”
“Speaking of soul syncing, I saw a new guy at school. Tall, but I couldn’t get a clear look at his face because of his black hair—so smooth it dances in the wind. I think you’d like him as much as I did.”
“He’s all yours. Right now, all I care about is fashion design. I bought some fabric yesterday... and I keep wondering if I’ll ever make something real out of it.”
*Ilori replied hesitantly. She rarely talked about what she loved—too afraid she’d fail at it.*
A few minutes before their first class, Eliana went to check the schedule for basketball practice. Naturally, Ilori went with her.
When they arrived, Eliana headed to her locker while Ilori wandered nearby, holding her Harry Potter book.
She approached the lockers and threw the book onto the floor, trying to startle Eliana. She then stepped out, laughing—but wait, that wasn’t Eliana. That was a guy!
“I think I’ve seen you before, miss… Ah, yes!”
*he said, recognizing her.*
“I thought you weren’t the type to do anything but read. You play basketball now?”
“Did you see a girl with wavy black hair? I just came with my friend…”
*Ilori said nervously, trying to steer the conversation away.*
She instantly realized it was the same boy—the one who smoked at the bookstore.
“Did your parents teach you to ignore people’s questions? Are you just slow, or do you think you’re special?”
*he asked—not angrily, but curiously. He was testing her reaction this time.*
“Yes, I do think I’m different. And I don’t think my opinion puts your life at risk.”
*Ilori replied.*
“Of course it doesn’t. But what you said made zero sense. I’m trying to help you not embarrass yourself in front of someone else.”
*he said, with a strange mix of frustration and provocation that left Ilori unsure how to respond.
She left him and went off to find Eliana without finishing the conversation.*
---
“Where were you? I thought you had one of your random epiphanies and vanished again.”
*Eliana said, half-annoyed, used to Ilori’s sudden disappearances.*
“Sorry. I ran into the guy you were talking about. Turns out he’s just an arrogant jerk.”
*Ilori said loudly.*
“We’ll talk about this later. For now, hurry! We’ll be late registering you for the music club.”
*Eliana rushed her, pushing Ilori ahead.*
“I’m nervous, Ilori. So many students are turning to basketball this year. It lowers my chances of winning.”
*Eliana said with clear anxiety.*
*Fred had arrived just as they were speaking and started listening in.*
“Don’t worry. More competition doesn’t mean you’re any less skilled. I promise I’ll cheer for you no matter where you go.”
*Ilori said, holding out her hand.*
“I promise I’ll appreciate your support—and return it tenfold.”
*Eliana said, taking her hand in hers.*
“Pineapple pizza!”
*Fred cut in with his goofy tone, placing his hand on top of theirs.*
“Alright, jokes aside—Ilori, come with me. I’ve got something for you.”
*he added, this time more seriously.*
They walked together until they reached Fred’s locker. He opened it and pulled out a book—completely white, no other colors at all.
“Take this. There’s a small hole in the wall behind one of the shelves in the library. I found this dusty book sitting in it. I flipped through it quickly—nothing interesting, just blank pages. But I thought maybe you’d know how to use it.”
*Fred said with a warm smile. He looked genuinely confident in Ilori.*
She nodded, matching his smile, and opened the first page without much thought. At the very bottom, one line was written:
“I’ll lead you to find a fork. Are you interested?”
*Ilori stared at the words in confusion, wondering if this was even something worth taking seriously.*
---
A harsh scraping sound.
Loud enough to hear, but not easy to see—too many doors stretched out ahead.
It grew clearer and clearer until finally, keys of black and white appeared, resting on a wooden frame. The sound matched the sight: an old piano being dragged out of the music room.
The grating only stopped when a body hit the ground beside the instrument.
“Ow!”
“Oh my god, Jane! Are you okay?!”
Fred rushed to Jane, who had just tripped over the heavy piano she was trying to move alone.
“I told you to ask for help with the instruments! Seriously, Jane.”
Jane laughed awkwardly, as she usually did, reaching out for Fred’s hand so he could help her up.
“Shut your mouth when you have no idea what I’m planning. I made a deal with the janitor—I have a key to this "old" room, remember?”
*Fred paused, trying to process what she’d just said*
“Huh? Oh... oh!”
*Ilori watched them silently, with a faint smile, already certain she knew this “Jane” girl.*
“Jane Kamensky, right?”
*Ilori spoke up, already sure who she was, but saying it to join the conversation naturally.*
---
Meanwhile, Mr. Christopher Capolin had just walked into the same library his daughter visited almost every morning.
He looked around at the narrow space and everything it held. The memories here were heavier than the walls could handle.
If memories were physical, this place would’ve crumbled into dust years ago.
“How can I help you, sir?”
*asked the librarian on morning duty.*
“Thanks, son. I’m looking for some historical and realistic novels—something to take me back to my younger days.”
*They both chuckled. Then the young man stood and began searching.*
“I found a few, sir. We have The English Patient, Birdsong, A Suitable Boy, and... let’s see... oh, corelli's mandolin too…”
But Mr. Christopher wasn’t listening.
He was slowly scanning a shelf, reaching into a specific spot.
He began moving books aside, focusing on something on the wall...
Then his expression froze in shock.
“Sir? Sir, can you hear—”
“Thank you—I have to go!”
