The silence around the lake was almost tangible. Pedri swallowed hard and looked at me, trying to gauge whether I knew what to do. I just shook my head, still stunned, feeling the cold of the evening slowly creeping up my arms. The body lying there, motionless, seemed to have stopped time itself.
The girl remained there, quiet, her eyes locked on mine. There was no fear, no shock—only a calm, almost unsettling curiosity. Her dark hair shifted lightly in the wind, and for a moment my gaze fell on the detail of my necklace, which seemed to glow faintly. She noticed, and the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Do you know this person?" she asked, her voice steady—calm, almost indifferent, but firm.
"No…" I answered, trying to keep my composure. "I just… found them."
She stepped a little closer, though never intruding on our space. There was no nervousness, no judgment, only an attentive ease—natural and unforced—that left me oddly unsettled. I realized she had taken note of my necklace. Such a small detail, and yet it seemed to catch her attention in a way almost too subtle to name.
Pedri began talking about what we should do, suggesting we call the authorities, but I barely heard him. My eyes stayed fixed on her. Something about the way she carried herself, calm as if she knew more than she said, both unsettled me and drew me in.
The distant wail of sirens began to approach, and the girl stepped back, as if she already knew it was time to leave us to handle the situation. Even then, she didn't look away—she simply stayed there, quiet, watching.
When the officers arrived, Pedri hurried forward to explain what we had found. I remained a few steps behind, struggling to process everything that had just happened, trying to shake off the weight of the lake and the body. Yet somehow, her presence was etched into my mind. She didn't move quickly, didn't say another word, and within minutes she was gone, leaving behind only the memory of her eyes.
On the way home, Pedri talked nonstop about how strange the day had been, how nobody seemed to grasp the gravity of what we had seen. I barely responded, lost in thought, trying to untangle the uneasy feeling that lingered. Every detail of the girl clung to me: her quiet attentiveness, her steady gaze, the unforced way she had appeared and disappeared.
When I finally made it to my room, I dropped my backpack on the floor and collapsed onto the bed. The day had been long, and the weight of the lake still pressed against my chest. I closed my eyes and tried to shut it all out, but exhaustion quickly gave way to a heavy sleep, dragging me into a dream that felt more real than anything I had lived.
In the dream, I was back at the lake, but everything was distorted. The water was black as ink, and unseen waves rose and crashed toward me. A deep, resonant voice began calling my name—it seemed to come from everywhere at once, reverberating inside my head.
"Ana… Ana… come…"
I tried to run, to scream, to flee, but my body wouldn't move. The water climbed higher, and the helplessness grew, until suddenly my hands grasped something familiar. My necklace, cold and heavy, vibrated beneath my fingers.
I jolted awake. My room was dark, the faint glow of the streetlight filtering through the curtains, but a subtle vibration seemed to hum along the walls.
Blinking hard, I tried to convince myself it wasn't real—just the echo of the nightmare tangled with the day's tension. But the sensation lingered, faint yet undeniable, as if something whispered all around me, silent and unseen.
I took a deep breath. Everything seemed to buzz inside me. I tried to calm myself, and eventually, I drifted back into sleep.