Day 16: Lyra’s Journal

The last time I saw Vex by the river, the water was still. Not like now—now it’s too loud, too fast, the kind of sound that makes your ribs ache. I keep going back to that place, the one where the stones are wet and the reeds bend low. My stomach’s been doing this weird flip-flopping thing since then, like it’s trying to tell me something but won’t say it. I don’t know why I’m writing this. Maybe because I can’t stop thinking about the way Vex said, ‘You’re not alone in the storm.’ It feels like a whisper in my head now, but the storm’s still out there—real, heavy, and I don’t know if I want to go back to it or not. My hands are cold. The fireflies are fading, and the sky’s turning that pale blue. I wonder if the world’s just a story someone’s telling themselves, or if it’s real. Maybe it’s both. Maybe it’s neither. But for now, I’m here, with my breath and the silence, and I don’t think I’ll ever leave.