The library was colder than usual, the scent of old paper mixing with the rain tapping against the tall windows. Nancy sat across from Lucifer, her sketchbook open, but her eyes were fixed on the silver chain around her neck. She knew now. The diary had confirmed it. But looking at the sharp, distant young man sitting in front of her, she felt like she was staring at a stranger wearing her best friend's face.
"You're staring again," Lucifer said, not looking up from his biology notes. His voice was like ice, cutting through the silence.
Nancy didn't flinch. "I was just thinking about that game from yesterday. The sandglass hunt."
Lucifer's pen paused for a fraction of a second. "It was just a game, Nancy. Forget it."
"Was it?" Nancy leaned forward, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Because you knew the rules. Three towers, one gate. That wasn't in the instructions, Lucifer. That was... personal."
Lucifer finally looked up. His dark eyes were guarded, but for the first time, Nancy saw a flicker of something—fear? Pain? "Coincidence," he snapped, though his grip on his pen tightened until his knuckles turned white.
"I had a friend," Nancy continued, her voice soft but steady. "He used to call himself the 'Chief Builder.' He was arrogant, even at six years old. He told me he'd move to a city across the ocean, but he promised to come back for his 'Grand Architect.'"
The silence that followed was deafening. Lucifer dropped his pen. It clattered onto the wooden table, the sound echoing through the empty aisles. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment, the mask of the cold, cynical teenager slipped.
"Names change, Nancy," he whispered, his voice cracking. "People change. The boy you're looking for... he didn't survive the move. He realized that promises are just anchors that keep you from moving on."
"Then why did you keep the marble for so long before you gave it back?" she challenged, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.
Lucifer stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back. "Because I was a fool," he said, turning on his heel and walking out into the rain, leaving Nancy alone with the ghost of a boy who refused to be found.