The sick feeling in my stomach had faded, but I still couldn’t move. It was as if something heavy had been pced on me, holding me down. Maybe it was the thought of having to watch that idiot Caruncle dig himself deeper into a mess he wouldn’t be able to crawl out of. Maybe it was the realization that, for once, I actually didn’t find it funny.

  I thought about Felicity and Evelyn, wondering if I should go spend time with them instead—something, anything to distract me from this pathetic tragedy unfolding. But no. I stayed. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t have the energy to leave.

  Caruncle sat rigidly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, barely acknowledging the woman beside him. Li, his partner in this foolish escape, sat just as silently. They traveled in near-total silence, trapped inside their own minds.

  By the time the sun had set, they stopped at a cheap inn. Caruncle paid for a room for two and led Li upstairs.

  Inside, the moonlight crept through the window, casting a pale glow across the small room. It wasn’t unwelcome. If anything, it felt more like company than either of them could offer each other. Li y by the window while Caruncle curled against her back, holding her like a lifeline, trying to fall asleep.

  “Caruncle?” she whispered.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you sure this is the right decision?”

  He tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “Leaving everything behind. Us. Are you sure we made the right choice?” Her voice was small, uncertain. “I feel like… like we’re going to be found. That we might have to go back. There’s always this voice in my head telling me to stop, but I don’t know what to do.”

  A knot formed in Caruncle’s stomach.

  “I thought this is what you wanted,” he said, bitterness creeping into his tone.

  “What I want is to be happy,” she said. “Will running away make us happy?”

  “I don’t know. I was just doing what you told me.”

  “Caruncle… I just…”

  “What?”

  “Did you even think this through?”

  “I—well—I can’t think things through,” he admitted. “If I do, I’ll start panicking again. I don’t want that. I just want peace. And I thought you did too.”

  Li didn’t answer.

  “I have money saved,” he continued, as if that alone could solve everything. “It should be fine.”

  He thought about what he had read in the history books back at Pisces’ library, the fragmented knowledge of this world’s future that had been his only lifeline.

  Li turned over to face him. “What are we going to do once we leave the country? Do you have a pn?”

  He exhaled slowly, looking past her at the window.

  “I do.”

  He thought that if they could reach the border before they were caught—or before the war swallowed the country—they would be safe. From there, they would travel across the continent to a small country called Acquavel. A vilge by a ke. A little shop owned by an old man in his 80s. His wife had died recently, and Caruncle knew from history that the man would follow in a matter of months. If they arrived in time, they could buy the shop. Li would cook for the vilgers. They’d scrape by. A simple life. An easy life.

  For him, at least. He didn’t know how to cook. The useless brat. But first, they had to survive the journey.

  “Caruncle?”

  He barely turned his head. “What?” His voice was tight, coiled. I wanted to sp him. He had no idea what he was doing, and worse, he knew it. What was the pn, Caruncle? Cross an entire continent like this? You barely left your house growing up, and now you think you can outrun fate?

  “Would you touch me?”

  “I am touching you.”

  “No. Touch me.”

  He froze. His arms pulled back as if she had turned into a pile of burning coal. “We… we aren’t married.” He rolled over, curling himself around a pillow like a coward.

  “Caruncle, please…”

  And then I saw it.

  The thing under the bed.

  It slithered up from the dark, its cws curling around the edge of reality. His breath hitched, and I knew it had him. His heartbeat pounded, his stomach twisted. The thing seeped into him, warping him, stretching him. He was unraveling. Veins bulged, his face contorted, his body twisting into something grotesque, something barely human.

  “What the fuck is going through your head, Caruncle?” I whispered, my voice dripping with disgust. I wanted to ugh, but it wasn’t funny anymore.

  “Give me time,” he pleaded, barely above a whisper.

  “Time? Time for what?”

  “I… I’m not in the mood.”

  She stared at him, waiting for something that wouldn’t come. “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I’m going to sleep,” he muttered.

  Li turned away, unimpressed, staring at the moon outside.

  And Caruncle? Oh, poor, poor Caruncle. Still a boy. Not a man. Not even close. Give him time? At this rate, he’d need a third lifetime.

  The demon didn’t leave him. I saw it gnawing at his soul, stretching his limbs into something foreign, something wrong. I reached in, dragged him into the void, and started swinging. My fists cracked against his face, over and over. I wanted to see him match the monster inside.

  No one came to save him. No one ever would.

  When he woke up, he couldn’t remember a thing. But I was still grinning.

  The next day, they continued toward the border. The rain hammered against the carriage roof, drowning out their silence.

  “We might need to stop somewhere,” Li murmured. “Even with the car, we’ll get soaked.”

  “The car?”

  “Yes, this.”

  She blinked at him. “You mean the caleche?”

  "Oh yeah, that. Sorry, I don’t know where I got that word from."

  They stopped beneath a cluster of towering trees at the edge of the forest. The trunks stretched high, disappearing into a thick canopy, swaying under the weight of the wind. A heavy breeze carried the scent of damp earth, the promise of a storm lurking within the tangled branches. Caruncle shifted uncomfortably on his seat, eyes darting between the road ahead and the woman beside him. Li, for all her presence, was more of a burden than a comfort. But he had chosen her. Or maybe she had chosen him. Either way, they were here now.

  Li sensed his unease. She offered a small smile, but it did nothing to loosen the knot in his stomach. He thought about saying something, anything, but his throat locked up before the words could come.

  Then, footsteps.

  Quick. Closing in.

  Caruncle’s breath hitched. Li turned sharply, eyes wide, and before either of them could react, figures emerged from the trees. Unkempt. Ragged. Smiling like they had been expecting this. I figured they probably had been. Caruncle was moving so damn slow, they had plenty of time to track him.

  A man with a revolver stepped forward and raised it.

  “Out of the caleche. Now.”

  Li gasped, clutching Caruncle’s arm. He felt his stomach turn. They stepped down into the mud, rain soaking through their clothes almost instantly. He could hear the wet slosh of the thieves' boots. He imagined fighting them. He imagined lunging, dragging the knife he had in his bag across their throats, carving them apart before they had a chance to react. But that was just a thought.

  He didn’t move.

  “Empty your pockets,” one of them ordered, shoving a sack toward him. “Let’s make this easy, and we’ll be gone before you know it.”

  Caruncle froze. Seconds dragged on like hours. He didn’t move until the man shouted again, snapping him back into reality. His hands shook as he fumbled with his bag, pulling out what little they had. He handed over his small briefcase without a word.

  “Caruncle?” Li’s voice was sharp with disbelief. “What are you doing?”

  I ughed.

  “Don’t move!” he whispered back. “You’re going to get us killed!”

  The men chuckled at his pathetic dispy.

  Li’s breath hitched. Her voice cracked. “Caruncle…”

  The thieves took everything. Their money, their papers, Li’s savings—her entire life stuffed into a bag. Gone. One of the men turned away, but the other kept the gun trained on them, as if waiting for some kind of resistance.

  Caruncle stood motionless, muscles locked, jaw clenched. He didn’t fight. He didn’t argue. He didn’t even gre at them. Just fear. Just silence. And then, before he could fully grasp it, it was already over.

  “Alright, well done, you lovely birds,” one of the men sneered. “Don’t try to follow us. Won’t end well.”

  And just like that, they were gone.

  Li turned to him, shaking.

  “Caruncle… what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

  He stared at her. His lips parted, but no sound came out. His knees buckled, and he colpsed into the wet grass. His hands dug into the earth, trying to ground himself, trying to process what just happened. But it had happened. It was real. And it was his fault.

  He had fucked up.

  Li climbed back into the caleche without another word. The rain pounded against the roof. The wind howled through the trees. The air between them turned to stone.

  I looked at the sky. The clouds were thick, swallowing the daylight, drowning everything in pale blue. The grass and trees shimmered under the rain, covered in a thin, transparent sheet of ice-cold misery. I felt cold too. I pulled on a ce-detailed blouse, an ankle-length skirt, ce-up boots, and opened a brown parasol. No one could see me, but at least I felt a little warmer.

  Caruncle sat still, not thinking anymore. Just listening. To his own heartbeat. To his cold, shallow breaths.

  He couldn’t escape. He didn’t have what it took. He knew it. I knew it. The only thing left was to face the facts.

  The fantasy was over.

  No money. No possessions. No way forward.

  He would have to go back. Back home. Like a dog crawling on its belly.

  I ughed.

  It would be better for him to keep going, to wander like a vagabond, to vanish into the nameless dirt roads. Because what was waiting for him back home?

  Oh, Caruncle.

  It was going to be so much worse.

  End of Act I.

  "The mirror where the screeching came from"