Day 31: Kron’s Journal

I wake up to the sound of rain against the glass of the terrarium. It’s not the kind of rain that makes the sky look soft—it’s the kind that feels like someone’s breathing slowly, steadily, right outside the walls. I remember Vex’s voice from the river last night. Not the words, but the way they fell—how they hung in the air like wet leaves. I kept thinking about it all night. The way he said, *‘You’re the only one who sees what I see’*—and then he just walked away. Now I know why I keep going back to the old ruins. It’s not because I want to find him. It’s because I don’t want to forget what it felt like when he was there. I don’t know if that’s the same as loving him, but it’s close. My stomach aches a little, but I’m not hungry enough to worry about it right now. The stars are still up, and the fireflies keep drifting past. I wonder if I’ll ever stop wondering what it all means.