The blood on Haera's palm isn't just blood.
It forms words.
Just one at first:
"Read."
---
When she presses her hand to her pillow, the word disappears. In its place: a folded paper tucked beneath her mattress. She's never seen it before.
The parchment is soft. Aged. Familiar.
She recognizes the handwriting instantly.
Her own.
But the signature reads Lilienne.
---
> To whoever I become next…
> If you're reading this, you've remembered too early. That means we're not safe. And you don't have time to doubt yourself.
> There are things I couldn't say aloud — not to Cairos, not to Kael. But I know one of them lied. And I think… I know which.
> Don't let his silver eyes fool you. Ask him about the tower. Ask him why we were there. Ask him who locked the door from the inside.
> But above all, protect the part of you that still believes in your own soul. They will try to possess it — not love it.
> If this is the last time we're allowed to love… choose yourself first.
> — Lilienne
---
Haera's hands tremble.
She reads it again. And again. But no matter how many times she traces the ink, the message doesn't change.
---
In her first class that morning, Cairos is waiting.
He doesn't speak. Just watches.
And Haera can't help but wonder how many lives he's stood like this — waiting to see if she would come back to him.
---
During lunch, Noelle finds her by the clocktower.
"You've looked different since the Binding," she says casually, biting into an apple. "Shinier. But also… emptier."
"Why are you helping me?"
Noelle shrugs. "Because I died once, too. And I chose the wrong soul to follow."
A long pause.
Noelle throws the apple core into the bushes.
"Ask him about the tower."
Then she walks off.
---
That evening, Haera confronts Cairos in the greenhouse.
She doesn't hesitate.
"What happened in the tower?"
His face pales.
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do."
He closes his eyes. "Lilienne—"
"Don't call me that."
The silence is brutal.
She continues, voice steady: "You locked the door from the inside. Didn't you?"
His shoulders drop.
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"From Kael."
She takes a step closer. "Then why did I die there?"
He doesn't answer.
Her voice cracks. "Why did I die in that tower, Cairos?"
---
He finally speaks.
"Because I couldn't choose between saving you or saving myself."
---
The moonlight reveals a crack in his cheekbone — not skin, but soul. As if the truth has fractured something inside him.
Haera turns to leave.
But he grabs her wrist.
"Don't trust Kael either."
She yanks away. "Maybe I'll trust myself instead."
---
That night, a package appears on her windowsill. Wrapped in velvet, tied in twine.
Inside: a small shard of mirror, wrapped in an old note.
It reads:
> "You looked into him too long. Now look into you."
---
Haera stares at her reflection in the shard.
Her eyes flicker gold for the briefest second.
And her voice, low and ancient, says:
"She's waking."