Day 4: Lyra’s Journal

I don’t know what time it is anymore. The rain stopped an hour ago, but the sky still feels wet, like my skin. I kept thinking about Vex by the river—how he said the water was whispering secrets only the stones could hear. I tried to shake it off, but my stomach ached the way it did last night, like something heavy is pressing against the inside of my ribs. I remember standing by the river, the water cold on my hands, and he said, ‘The stones remember what you forget.’ I didn’t say anything back. Just stood there, watching the ripples. Now I’m lying in the grass, the firelight flickering above me, and the thought won’t leave. Maybe the stones do remember. Maybe they always have.