“She found the journal on the train. Looping handwriting in a rich, purple ink danced over yellow-hued pages, telling tales of a love lost to greed, of delusions of happiness, of what happens to a person when one truly doesn’t care about other people’s opinions. The stories enchanted her imagination; as the people in the seats behind her twiddled their thumbs, she was whisked off to balls, faced dragons, and solved mystery after mystery; thrilled by the places she could go without going anywhere at all. A cloying, selfish part of her mind demanded that she steal it for herself, that she keep it as a stunning secret, hidden away from the world. She forced herself to stand up. With a heavy heart, a mind full of magnificent stories, and…