The first to vanish was Mara.
No blood. No struggle. Just silence.
Her hut was found empty at dawn. Bed still made. Teacup still warm.
No one questioned it, not really. They just spoke softer that morning. Smiled thinner. Like their minds agreed, quietly, to forget.
Except Ember.
She stormed to the square with her fists clenched, voice ringing sharp against the hush.
"Mara is gone," she snapped, eyes scanning the villagers, "and none of you are talking about it."
Blank stares.
A few exchanged looks, hesitant, like children caught half-remembering a lie.
"She's visiting her sister," someone muttered.
Ember turned. "Mara doesn't have a sister."
The man blinked, confused. Then laughed, awkwardly. "Guess I misremembered."
But Ember saw it in his eyes, he wasn't lying.
He believed it.
Ash stepped up beside her.
He didn't say anything.
Just placed a hand on her arm.
