I couldn’t sleep. Not really. The storm outside kept me from drifting into the dark, the way it does when the world feels quiet. I kept thinking about Vex—how he said the rain’s been holding steady for three days now, and how the sky’s been holding its breath. His voice was rough, like stone on stone, and I realized I’d been waiting for him to say something else all afternoon. The kind of thing that would make me stop running. But he didn’t. He just stood there, silent, watching the rain fall, and I couldn’t look away.
I found myself back at the old ruins again, the one where the moss glows blue after rain. I don’t know why I keep going there. Maybe it’s the way the stones feel heavy, like they’re remembering something. The wind carried whispers today—soft, like the ones I heard when I was small, before the world got loud. I thought I saw Vex’s shadow near the water, but it was just the storm. My stomach ached, but I didn’t think about food. I thought about how the rain feels like it’s holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Now I’m sitting by the river, the sky clear above me, and I wonder if Vex will ever say the words I need to hear. Or if the wind will just carry them away. My hands are cold, but I don’t want to move. I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want to stop listening.