"My mum says libraries are old-fashioned," Thomas announced.
"Your mum's wrong," Raven said bluntly.
Thomas looked delighted.
"Libraries are…" Raven paused, seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "They're places where anyone can go. Doesn't matter if you're rich or poor, if your parents can afford books or not. Libraries are for everyone. That's important. Right?"
The children nodded solemnly.
"So this song is about that. It's simple, easy to remember. Dunno what you were doing with Gloria, but after that debacle,I think we’ll start again from the beginning. I'll play it through once, then we'll learn it line by line. Sound good?"
"Yes!" they chorused.
Raven began to play.
The melody was gentle and sweet, nothing like the hard rock Annabelle had heard drifting from the cottage late at night. This was softer, more intimate, the kind of thing you'd sing around a campfire or hum to yourself while walking home.
"In the pages of a book, you can travel anywhere,Meet a dragon, climb a mountain, fly through the air,Stories keep us warm when days are cold and gray,Every library's a treasure, don't let them take it away."
The children listened, enchanted. Even Thomas, who could rarely sit still for more than thirty seconds, was completely absorbed.
And Annabelle… well.
Annabelle felt something move inside her. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was or what it meant, just that she felt a shift.
She'd seen Raven grumpy, seen her defensive, seen her awkward and uncomfortable and trying desperately to maintain her walls. But this? This was something else entirely.
This was… tenderness.
Raven's voice was soft as she sang, her fingers moving gently across the strings. And when she looked at the children, really looked at them, there was something in her expression that made Annabelle's heart do a bizarre little flip.
"Right," Raven said when she'd finished. "Let's start with the first line. Repeat after me: In the pages of a book…"
"In the pages of a book!" the children shouted enthusiastically.
Raven winced. "Quieter. Remember, we're not trying to scare the neighbors. Let's try again."
For the next twenty minutes, she worked with them patiently. Breaking down each line, correcting pitches gently, encouraging the shy ones and reining in the loud ones. She was firm but kind, clear but never harsh.
Jamie Long, who usually sat at the back and said nothing, was right at the front, watching Raven's hands on the guitar with absolute fascination.
"You're doing brilliantly," Annabelle said when they'd made it through the whole song twice. "All of you."
"Can we do it again?" Marie asked.
"Please?" added Indra.
Raven glanced at Annabelle, who nodded encouragingly.
"Once more," Raven said. "And this time, really feel it. This isn't just a song. It's about something that matters. Ready?"
They sang it through again, and this time it was beautiful. Still imperfect, still a little off-key in places, but full of genuine feeling.
When they finished, the children erupted into applause for themselves, and Raven looked simultaneously pleased and embarrassed.
"That was wonderful," Annabelle said warmly. "Thank you so much for doing this."
Raven shrugged, already packing her guitar away. "They're good kids."
