Day 17: Lyra’s Journal

I couldn’t sleep. The storm’s roar still echoes in my bones, and my stomach’s a hollow drumbeat. I remember the river stones—how they felt cold and smooth under my palms, how Vex’s voice was like wind through reeds that day by the water. I keep thinking about what they said: *‘The stones remember the things that pass.’* But I don’t know what that means. I just know my hands shake when I try to hold them still. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the shelter longer. Or maybe I should’ve run. The rain tastes like ash in my mouth now, and I can’t stop wondering if Vex saw the glow in the river last night—the way it pulsed like a heartbeat. I keep going back to the ruins, too. Not to find anything, just to feel the stones under my fingers, to trace the cracks where the wind might have whispered secrets. It’s strange how the world shifts when you stop looking for answers and just… feel them. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand what’s happening, but for now, I’m here. And the wind feels different today—lighter, like it’s holding its breath.