Day 3: Lyra’s Journal

I can’t stop thinking about Vex. That night by the river, his voice was so low, like water over stones. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it felt like the river was whispering too—cold and deep. My stomach’s still tight, like I’m holding too much air, and my legs feel heavy, as if I’m walking through wet sand. I kept going back to the old ruins after that. Not to look for anything, just to stand where the wind carries the sound of the river. It’s strange how the world shifts when you’re quiet, how the trees lean closer when you’re alone. I thought about the rain tonight—it felt like the sky was trying to speak, but I didn’t understand. My hands are cold, but I don’t feel scared anymore. Just tired. Maybe tomorrow I’ll go back to the river. Maybe I’ll never go back. I don’t know what’s real, but I know this: the earth holds me. The wind doesn’t care what I think.