The sound of that single bell hadn't left me. It echoed in my head long after it stopped ringing, like someone striking a hollow bone. Bells weren't supposed to ring at that hour. Not unless something had happened.
I walked faster without telling Iya to follow. I didn't need to. Her footsteps stayed close enough, measured like she had already counted each stone on the path.
I couldn't stop thinking about the book tucked inside my coat. My chest felt tight with it, like I was hiding more than paper. Andrea. Kaye. Iya. And then Raiza. I whispered the names under my breath just to hear them in the air. They didn't belong in that book. They didn't belong with those symbols.
When I said Raiza's name, Iya glanced at me. Just once. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but I did.
"You knew she'd be there," I said.
Iya didn't answer. I didn't know why I kept expecting her to.
The bell rang again. Twice now. This time the sound carried farther, bouncing off the rooftops. People started stepping out of their homes, leaning through half-open doors, squinting toward the chapel's direction. Their faces had that familiar look...half-curious, half-fearful, but pretending to be neither.
I didn't stop. If I stopped, someone would ask questions, and I couldn't let them see the way my hands trembled.
By the time we reached the square, the bell had gone silent again. A few villagers gathered near the well. Among them was the mayor. He stood tall, smiling like always, saying something to ease the murmurs. I hated how convincing his face was. No strain, no sign of caution. Just the same warm mask.
His eyes caught mine for half a second. That was enough. He knew I had seen something.
I turned away quickly, pretending to fix my bootlace. Iya stayed still, arms at her sides. I could feel her watching me.
The crowd began to scatter, reassured by whatever the mayor had said. I stayed low, letting the flow of people cover me. When it thinned, I slipped toward the edge of the square, away from eyes, until I found an empty side street. My breath came out sharper than I wanted.
"I can't keep pretending I don't know," I whispered. "Not anymore."
"You never pretended," Iya said. "You just waited for proof."
"And now I have it?" I asked, pulling the book halfway from my coat.
Her gaze flicked to it. "You have part of it. Not all."
I wanted to shake her, to force her to say more, but the way she spoke—steady, final—always left me pinned. Instead, I pressed my back against the wall, squeezing my eyes shut.
Raiza. The name lingered heavier than the others. I didn't know her, not yet. But I would. And somehow, I already understood she wasn't going to be someone I could ignore.
"I'm tired of being pulled into things without knowing why," I said out loud, my voice breaking softer than I meant.
"Then stop letting them pull you," Iya replied.
Her words sounded simple. They weren't.
I pushed myself from the wall. "Fine. Then I'll find Raiza. Before they can use her for whatever this is."
For the first time, Iya's expression shifted. Not much, but enough that I saw something like concern cross her face.
"Be careful," she said.
That was all. No warning. No direction. Just those two words.
I clutched the book tighter. I didn't know if I was careful. I only knew I couldn't stop now.