After the plaza, Luna changed. The confident, enigmatic girl was gone, replaced by a flickering, anxious spirit. In class, her form would sometimes waver like a heat haze, becoming translucent for a few terrifying seconds before solidifying again. She became quieter, often staring out the window with a profound sadness that made my heart ache.
She started missing our meetings. I'd wait at the plaza until the vendors closed up their stalls, the neon lights blinking out one by one, leaving me alone in the dark with the hollow splash of the fountain.
The following Wednesday, I found her sitting under the old acacia tree in the empty schoolyard after final bell. She was curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees, looking smaller than I'd ever seen her.
"I'm fading, JM," she said, her voice so faint I had to strain to hear it. She didn't look at me. "Knowing… knowing the truth… it's making it harder to stay."
"What do you mean, 'stay'?" I asked, sitting beside her, careful to keep a few inches between us. "Why are you here?"
"I don't know," she whispered, a sound full of despair. "I think… I was waiting. I didn't know I was waiting, but I was. And now…" She finally turned her luminous, tear-filled eyes to me. "Now I think I was waiting for you. To remember me. But it's not enough. Remembering might be what finally lets me go."
The paradox was cruel. My awareness of her was both sustaining her and destroying her. Our connection was the anchor keeping her here, but the weight of the truth was severing the rope.
"Then I'll help you," I said, the decision solidifying in my chest as I spoke. "I don't know how, but I will. We'll find out what happened. We'll finish your project."
It was no longer a school assignment. It was a quest. A purpose.
A small, fragile smile touched her lips. For a moment, she looked solid again. "Our promise?" she asked.
I nodded, my throat tight. "Our promise."