The heavy iron door creaked open, revealing a room frozen in the 1960s. Dust swirled like miniature galaxies in the beams of our flashlights. The room was filled with old glass vials, rusted medical equipment, and black-and-white anatomical charts peeling from the stone walls."Look at this place," Ela breathed, stepping over a stack of old journals. "It really hasn't been touched in sixty years."While Ethan and Ela inspected the old machinery, my feet carried me directly to the center desk. Resting on it was a thick, leather-bound notebook. Written on the cover in that beautiful, unforgettable calligraphy was a single name: Julian.