I never thought my quiet town harbored secrets like this. The day started like any other, with the sun creeping through the blinds, and the smell of coffee filling the air. I was just a simple librarian, content to catalog dusty old books and help kids find their next adventure. But everything changed when I found the note tucked inside a weathered volume of local history. It read: "The truth lies beneath the old oak."

Curiosity sparked in me like a match igniting dry leaves. What truth? I had lived here all my life, and the old oak was just a tree. But something in that note felt...