The forest was darker than Selene remembered, the trees casting long shadows under the sliver of moonlight. Each step felt deliberate, the crunch of her boots on frozen earth unnaturally loud.

She gripped the flashlight tightly, its beam cutting through the blackness. Every sound—an owl’s distant call, the rustle of leaves—set her nerves on edge.

As she neared the clearing, doubt surged in her chest. What if she was making a mistake? What if Lydia’s disappearance wasn’t a mystery but a warning?

Her thoughts spiraled until she reached the hollow tree. The clearing felt alive, the air thrumming with an energy she couldn’t name. The word Courage carved into the bark seemed to glow faintly, as if mocking her hesitation.

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Selene crouched near the hollow, the flashlight trembling in her hand. “This is it,” she murmured. “This is what you wanted me to find, isn’t it?”

The voice returned, soft and insistent: “Selene… step through.”

But she didn’t move. Not yet. She sat back on her heels, her breath coming fast.

“Why?” she asked aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why me? Why now?”

The woods didn’t answer, but the clock in her bag ticked once, sharp and clear.

She reached inside, pulling out the clock. Its hands pointed to 11:47, frozen in place. The sight steadied her, the weight of the object grounding her in the moment.

“This isn’t trust,” she said aloud, gripping the clock tightly. “This is calculated risk.”

And with that, she crawled into the hollow.