"W-What should we do!?"
Emilia's voice cracked, panic leaking into every syllable as she clutched at her own arms.
Her eyes darted around the dim glow of the camp torches, searching for something—anything—that might explain what had just happened.
"Are you sure you saw her when you woke her up, Emilia?"
Reina's tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes as she stepped into the small makeshift bathroom they'd set up in the corner of the cleared floor.
The place looked exactly as it had an hour ago—the neatly folded towels, the faint steam still lingering in the air, even the water basin undisturbed.
Yet there was no sign of Stacia.
Not a wet footprint.
Not even a ripple in the water.
"Y-Yes… I'm really not lying!" Emilia stammered, her voice trembling more with each word. "She was right here a moment ago. She said she'd wash up for a bit—then…" She faltered, as if saying it out loud would make it sound even more impossible.
