Mara didn't sleep that night. She found a patch of ground near the shed that was mostly dry, laid her coat over the grass, and stared at the sky through the branches. Iya sat nearby but didn't speak unless Mara did. For once, the silence wasn't unbearable.
Sometime after midnight, Mara sat up and asked, "Are you real?"
Iya didn't move. "What do you mean?"
"You showed up right after everything got worse. You talk like you know more than you say. You don't act like a normal girl." She hesitated, then added, "And part of me wonders if you're just another one of them. Like the echo in the ruin."
Iya didn't look offended. "I'm not like her."
"You know who I mean?"
"I've heard of her."
Mara leaned back again and folded her arms. "You're not giving me much reason to believe you're real."
"You're touching real ground. You're breathing real air. You made it this far. That should tell you I'm not part of the ruin's game."
"Should, but doesn't."
They let the conversation fall apart after that. When the sky began to lighten, Iya stood and stretched her arms behind her back. Her movements were smooth, practiced. Too practiced. Mara watched her in silence, eyes narrowed.
"Where did you learn to move like that?"
Iya looked back. "You mean without tripping over tree roots?"
"I mean like you're used to moving through places that don't want you there."
Iya tilted her head. "That's one way to put it."
Mara stood, brushing off her coat. "So what now? You stick with me?"
"I'll walk with you until you start asking better questions."
"I already asked the most important one."
"No," Iya said, starting toward the treeline. "That was just the safest one."
They passed between the trees again, heading down a slope that opened into another patch of field. To the west, the rooftops of the village peeked over the tree line, still distant. Mara didn't want to return yet, but she knew she would have to soon. There were things she needed to find.
As they walked, a thought struck her. "You said you're not from the village. But you speak like you know it."
"I passed through. Watched. Listened. The people here don't speak about what they lost. They act like silence is safer."
Mara nodded slowly. "It is. Until it isn't."
Ahead, something shifted through the grass. Mara tensed, but Iya held up a hand. A rabbit darted out of the brush and crossed their path, vanishing again into the thickets.
"Still breathing, then," Iya said.
Mara raised an eyebrow. "You worried the land was dead?"
"Not dead. But close enough to notice."
They walked until the fields thinned and a fence appeared, mostly broken but still standing in parts. On the other side was an old barn, its red paint long faded. Mara recognized it. It had belonged to the Grent family, but they'd moved out years ago. No one had bothered with the land since.
"I need to check something," Mara said.
Iya followed without asking why.
Inside the barn, it was colder than it should've been. Dust curled in the air, and the smell of mold clung to the beams. Mara stepped over a fallen rake and headed to the back wall. She crouched near the floorboards.
"There used to be something here," she said.
Iya watched her closely. "What kind of something?"
Mara pulled at the edge of a board. It gave with a crack, revealing a shallow gap beneath. Nothing inside now. Just dirt.
"It's gone," Mara muttered.
"What was it?"
"A box. Sealed. My uncle said never to touch it."
Iya knelt beside her. "And you never did?"
"I tried. Once." Mara looked at the hole. "It burned my hand."
Iya was quiet for a long moment. "Then someone else took it. Someone who knew it wouldn't burn them."
Mara stood again. Her pulse had quickened. "I think the mayor's hiding more than he lets on. And I think someone helped him take it."
"You'll need proof," Iya said.
"I'll find it."
They left the barn. The sky had fully brightened, the sun low but visible. The village waited in the distance, still ordinary from far away. But Mara had stopped trusting the ordinary.
She turned to Iya. "Are you coming with me?"
"For now," Iya said.
And they began walking back toward the place where it all began.