Maya is still curled against me, just as we fell asleep last night. Morning light barely filters through the window when Dad knocks on our door.

"Girls."

In the kitchen, Mom has laid out breakfast - fresh bread still warm from the baker, pale yellow cheese from the Weber farm, and honey from Lars's hives. The familiar scents that usually make my mouth water now turn my stomach. Dad sits at the table reviewing papers from the Temple - documents every family received after yesterday's ceremony. The pages detail new regulations: mandatory daily confessions, expanded soul ledger entries, stricter monitoring of children's activities. He keeps reading the same sections over and over, particularly the part about "signs of corruption in youth" and "parental responsibility for spiritual deviance."

"At least we can have breakfast together today," Mom says, trying to sound cheerful as she arranges the food. She cuts thick slices of bread, spreading each with a careful layer of honey - the way she always does when she's worried about us. Maya just stares at her plate, Mr. Whiskers propped in her lap, his worn ear twisted between her fingers. She hasn't touched the honey-drizzled bread or the small wedge of cheese Mom kept trying to tempt her with.

I pick at my own breakfast, tearing the bread into smaller and smaller pieces without eating any. The honey forms sticky pools on my plate, and I find myself drawing patterns in it with my finger - something Mom would usually scold me for, but today she says nothing. Even Dad has barely touched his food, too absorbed in those Temple documents.

A movement outside the window catches my attention. Looking up from my mangled breakfast, I see a black-robed figure through the glass. Claire stands watching our house, her new Witness robes impossibly neat. Even from here, I can see how different she looks - dark circles ring her eyes, and her face carries none of the warmth I remember.

The Temple bell's first toll splits the morning quiet. Maya's bread falls to her plate with a soft thud, while Claire moves toward our door with slow, purposeful steps.

I find myself moving toward the door before I can stop myself, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'll open it to find my best friend instead of this hollow-eyed stranger. But when I pull it open, Claire's face remains a perfect mask of devotion.

"High Executor Thane commands all children to gather at the Temple immediately. Adults will assemble in the square," she announces, her voice carrying none of its former warmth. "Judge Malakai's final orders before departing for the High Council must be carried out without delay."

"But they haven't eaten properly-" Mom starts.

"The Judge's last command was explicit," Claire cuts her off, touching the silver chain at her throat - a gesture I've seen the Witnesses use when sensing deception. "Food can wait. You have five minutes."

Mom hurries us upstairs, hands shaking as she helps Maya with the buttons of her dark blue dress. I pull on my own best dress, the one usually reserved for Temple services. My fingers fumble with the clasps as I hear more children being gathered outside.

"Julie," Mom whispers, straightening my collar with trembling hands, "watch over your sister. No matter what happens..."

Maya grabs my hand as we hurry to join the other children in the streets. Small groups walk close together, whispering. Several faces are missing from the usual morning crowd - though all properly excused through their parents, I'm sure. Emma's mother sent word that her daughter was helping prepare herbs for today's ceremony. The miller's son is assisting his father with an urgent delivery to Millbrook. Each absence carefully explained, properly documented.

Mira falls into step beside us. "Have you seen Finn?" she asks quietly.

I shake my head. No one has seen him since yesterday, when they took his mother away. The house stands empty now, with official Temple seals on the door marking it for "spiritual cleansing."

The Temple square fills slowly. Through the crowd, I spot Hans and Greta Weber huddled together. Their mother's marking is scheduled for today.

Claire stands with the other Witnesses on the Temple steps, apart from the main group, her black robes perfectly pressed. High Executor Thane takes his place at the center, and I notice the marking posts have been cleared away. No sign of Judge Malakai's silver tools anywhere.

"Children of Aldenvik," Thane's voice carries across the morning quiet. "Judge Malakai has been recalled to the High Council. Our investigation shows the heretical Flow manipulation was contained to one household." He pauses. "That particular corruption need not spread further."

A ripple of relief passes through the crowd - too soon.

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"However," Thane continues, "the scheduled markings must proceed. Mrs. Weber and Henrik will receive their lessons in faith today." He studies the crowd for a moment. "The Donor's wisdom shows us many paths to understanding. Sometimes the simplest methods prove most... instructive. The traditional brands will serve for today's ceremony. Before the purification ritual that will-"

His words cut off as a scream pierces the morning air from behind the Temple. Two guards rush to investigate while Thane waits, his sermon interrupted. They return moments later, faces pale.

"Creatures, your excellency," one reports. "Like nothing we've-"

Then I spot movement near the baker's shop, and my heart nearly stops. One of those creatures from our garden, but it's all wrong now. It's grown so much bigger, almost as tall as I am. Its whiskers, once thin and clear, have turned a deep purple, thick as my fingers. They twist and writhe as it moves, like they're searching for something. And its eyes - there are more of them now, each one dark and endless, all blinking at different times.

It still moves in that confused, jerky way I remember from our garden, like it can't quite decide which direction to go. But there's something different about it now. Back then, it seemed lost, uncertain. Now it acts like it knows exactly where it is - and what it wants.

"Look, the pretty ones have grown so big-" Maya starts, but I clamp my hand over her mouth, my blood turning to ice as I realize what she's about to say.

A second creature bursts out from between houses, matching the first in size and horror. They move together in a way that makes my stomach turn. When one darts left, the other follows. When one pauses, both pause. It's like watching two puppets being pulled by the same strings.

"Blasphemy!" Thane's voice carries both fury and fear - real fear, not the kind he uses to scare us during sermons. "Such things cannot exist in sacred spaces!"

The village guards move forward, but I can see how their hands shake on their weapons. These aren't the usual threats they train for. The creatures notice them approaching and suddenly shift their jerky movements into something faster, more purposeful.

The first creature lunges at the closest guard, its whiskers leaving deep gashes across his arm. He stumbles back with a cry of pain, blood soaking his sleeve. Two more guards rush to help, but the second creature catches one of them across the legs. They both fall, swords clattering against the stones.

It takes nearly all the guards working together to drive the creatures back. One guard loses his sword to those whipping whiskers. Another gets knocked down, barely rolling away from snapping jaws. But eventually steel finds flesh - not just whiskers this time, but deeper. The creatures make terrible sounds as they thrash and fall. Something dark and thick, like Dad's ink but darker, pools beneath them.

"The purification cannot wait!" Thane's voice rises over the chaos. The Witnesses and Executors hurriedly wrap the creatures' bodies in black cloth covered in sacred symbols, dark fluid still seeping through the fabric. The Witnesses begin herding everyone into the town square, their black robes swirling as they move through the crowd with urgent purpose. Maya's hand finds mine as we hurry to where Mom and Dad wait among the other parents.

No one seems to know exactly what to do as we're arranged in the square - this isn't like our usual Temple services with their familiar routines. Thane takes his position at the well’s edge, his white robes now stained with that dark fluid from the creatures. When he raises his arms, something ancient and terrible hangs from his hands.

"The Donor's will must be done," he announces, his voice carrying an edge I've never heard before. "The corruption that spawned these abominations ends today."

The chanting begins - deep and terrible, making the very air vibrate. The Witnesses join, their voices forming harmonies that shouldn't be possible. The sound fills the square, bouncing off the surrounding buildings until it seems to come from everywhere at once.

People start to sway, some dropping to their knees. Mom tries to reach for us but stumbles. Dad's face has gone gray. Through my own blurring vision, I watch as Thane begins to move, the object in his hands pulsing with power.

The chanting grows louder, pressing against my ears until I can barely think. Only Maya stands straight beside me, apparently untouched by whatever force is making everyone else tremble. Her hand in mine feels steady, almost unnaturally so.

The air grows thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. Thane's movements become more frenzied, the object in his hands vibrating so violently I expect it to shatter at any moment. The Witnesses' chanting rises to impossible heights, their voices cracking with the strain.

Then everything stops.

Where the chanting had filled every corner of the square, now there's nothing - not even the usual morning sounds of birds or distant livestock. The air feels thick and strange, like trying to breathe underwater.

"It... it is done," Thane's voice shakes as he lowers his arms. The Witnesses look shaken - this clearly wasn't what they expected.

As people slowly recover, helping each other up from where they fell, I notice something strange. The dark fluid from the creatures has vanished, leaving the cobblestones clean.

"Return to your homes," Thane commands, though his voice lacks its usual authority. "The Witnesses will escort each family. No one is to walk the streets alone until..." he pauses, as if unsure how to continue. "Until we are certain the purification has taken hold."

Mom finally pulls us close. Her hands shake as she checks us for injury. Behind her, Dad leans against a wall, looking like he's aged years in minutes.

The crowd breaks into small groups, each accompanied by a black-robed figure. Everyone moves like they're waking from a nightmare. Their eyes keep darting toward the shadows between buildings, as if expecting to see more creatures waiting there.

As our assigned Witness leads us home, I glance back at the well. Thane still stands there, the object now dull and lifeless in his trembling hands. Claire moves among the cobblestones, gathering something I can't quite see. When she straightens up, our eyes meet briefly. In that moment, her mask slips completely, and I finally see my old friend again - terrified and confused.