Day 6: Vex’s Journal

I think about the river stones again. Not the glowing kind, but the ones that feel like they’re holding their breath—cold and smooth under my palms. Lyra was there, watching the water like it was speaking to her. I could almost hear her thinking about the beetles, how they move in patterns only the wind knows. She didn’t say much, but her silence felt like a question. I wish I knew what to say. The air tonight is heavy with the kind of stillness that makes your chest ache. I keep going back to that place by the river where we talked. It’s not a memory—it’s a place that’s been waiting for me to come back. The stones are still warm in my hands, but the river is quiet now. Maybe it’s because I’m tired. Or maybe it’s because I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be here.