For several seconds, neither girl moved.
The words remained on the window.
You shouldn't have come back.
Clara was the first to speak.
"Lyra..."
"I see it."
"What are we going to do?"
Lyra didn't know.
She walked closer to the window, careful not to touch the glass.
The words were still there.
She wiped her sleeve across them.
Nothing happened.
The letters remained.
"That's not condensation," she whispered.
Clara shook her head.
"No."
Lyra looked outside again.
The trees were dark and still.
"Did you see who was standing there?"
"Yes."
"Did you recognize them?"
"No."
"Did you see their face?"
Clara shook her head.
Lyra looked at the message again.
"Someone knows I'm here."
Clara swallowed.
"Maybe they knew you'd come."
Lyra turned toward her.
"That's what the letter said."
"What letter?"
Lyra hesitated.
Then she took the folded paper from her desk.
Clara read it.
Her face changed as she reached the end.
"Your family didn't leave the Hollow."
"I know."
"What does that mean?"
"I have no idea."
Clara handed the letter back.
"My mother might."
Lyra looked at her.
"Then we need to talk to her."
Clara nodded slowly.
"But there's a problem."
"What?"
"She won't come here."
"Why?"
"Because she used to work here."
Lyra frowned.
"So?"
Clara lowered her voice.
"She told me she would never step inside the Hollow again."
---
The next morning, Lyra woke to sunlight.
For the first time in days, the sky was clear.
The strange events of the previous night almost felt unreal.
Almost.
Then she remembered the message on the window.
She dressed quickly and went downstairs.
Mrs. Harrow was already in the dining room.
"Good morning," Lyra said.
The woman nodded.
"Morning."
Lyra sat down.
She watched Mrs. Harrow pour tea.
"Did you hear anything last night?"
The teapot stopped halfway to the cup.
"What do you mean?"
"Noise outside."
Mrs. Harrow continued pouring.
"No."
"You didn't hear anything?"
"No."
Lyra studied her.
"Someone was outside my window."
Mrs. Harrow's hand tightened around the teapot.
Only for a second.
Then she placed it down.
"You should keep your windows locked."
"They were."
Mrs. Harrow looked at her.
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them.
Fear.
Then it disappeared.
"Eat your breakfast, Miss Lyra."
Lyra leaned back.
"You know something."
"I know that young women who spend too much time imagining ghosts don't sleep properly."
"I didn't say anything about ghosts."
Mrs. Harrow's face went still.
Lyra smiled faintly.
"Interesting."
She stood.
Mrs. Harrow watched her leave.
---
Outside, Lyra found Tom working near the orchard.
"Tom."
He looked up.
"Morning."
"Can I ask you something?"
He sighed.
"You're going to anyway."
"Did you know Elias?"
Tom stopped what he was doing.
"I told you. My father worked here."
"That's not what I asked."
Tom leaned against the tree.
"No."
"Then why do you look nervous every time I mention him?"
"I don't."
"You do."
He looked toward the woods.
"Because you're asking questions that won't make your life better."
"Maybe I don't care."
"You should."
Lyra folded her arms.
"Did Elias disappear from the house?"
Tom nodded.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Seventeen years old."
"I know."
Tom looked at her sharply.
"Who told you?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
Lyra stepped closer.
"Tom."
He sighed.
"Your family wasn't supposed to come back here."
Lyra froze.
"What?"
Tom immediately looked away.
"You heard me."
"Why not?"
"I've said too much."
"Tom—"
He walked away.
Lyra watched him go.
Another person who knew something.
Another person who refused to tell her.
She was beginning to get tired of it.
By afternoon, Lyra had made up her mind.
She was going to find Clara's mother.
If everyone in the Hollow was determined to keep secrets, she'd have to find someone who wasn't.
She found Clara upstairs.
"I've decided."
Clara looked up from folding clothes.
"About what?"
"We're going to visit your mother."
Clara stared at her.
"You can't just decide that."
"I just did."
"Lyra."
"She knows about my family."
"Maybe."
"And she knows why she left the Hollow."
"Maybe."
"Then I need to talk to her."
Clara was quiet.
Finally, she nodded.
"All right."
Lyra smiled.
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"Good."
Clara started folding another shirt.
Then she stopped.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"My mother mentioned your name."
Lyra's smile disappeared.
"What did she say?"
Clara looked at her.
"She said..."
She hesitated.
"She said if Lyra Vale ever returned to the Hollow, we should leave before it was too late."
A cold feeling settled in Lyra's chest.
"Why?"
Clara shook her head.
"I don't know."
From somewhere downstairs came the sound of something falling.
Both girls turned toward the door.
Then they heard footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Coming up the stairs.
Lyra looked at Clara.
"Did you tell anyone we're leaving tomorrow?"
Clara shook her head.
"No."
The footsteps stopped outside their door.
Neither girl breathed.
A piece of paper slipped underneath the door.
Lyra stared at it.
Slowly, she walked over and picked it up.
There were only six words written on it.
Don't let Clara's mother see you.