For the first time in years, Nicole experienced the strangest feeling in Maggie's house. The decor hasn't been altered in any way, but the place felt psychologically unfamiliar. Solid tension hung over every piece of item in the living room, like Maggie's soul was there, watching, guarding it. It looked as if death itself was there. That silent tension got hold of Nicole and her heart started pounding; she began taking deep breaths to stabilize. Hell; she felt like an armature thief on a first job.
Get hold of yourself...Yes...Ok; now, where do I begin?
Her eyes swept the entirety of the neat living room and instantly observed the first two places to begin her search. She dropped her bag on the couch and walked to the first spot: the books shelve.
Nicole had marvelled over the old woman’s book collections the first day she stepped into the house. It spanned from the ancient literal giants to the contemporaries―Plato, Sun Tzu, Machiavelli, Old Testament, Shakespeare, Hemingway, Chase, Robert Greene, Sheldon, Dan Brown, Grisham and more. There were also piles of magazines and newspapers. She's sure Maggie had read them all; yes, she can bet on that, because the old woman was something else when it came to in-depth knowledge and philosophy; her ideas and concepts seemed out of this world. As Nicole got set to explore Maggie's personal world to find something hidden, she prayed her quest to be easier.
So, she set to work. First all, she traced the author names of each book with her index finger to see if she could get a match. She got none. Then she attacked the voluminous books, the manuscripts and magazines. She even took time and went through some notes she found in the pile.
One and a half hours later, Nicole couldn’t find a thing.