The morning sun cast warm golden streaks through the village square as Bell and I walked toward the bookshop. I kicked at loose cobblestones, the sound echoing softly against the half-timbered buildings lining the street. The scent of fresh bread wafted from the bakery, mingling with the earthy aroma of manure from the farmer's cart passing by.

Bell's手指 traced the spines of books in the open crate outside the shop, her brow furrowed in concentration. I leaned against a wooden post, my shoulder pressing against the rough-hewn wood, and watched a group of children chase a stray cat around a corner, their laughter piercing the morning calm. My fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against my thigh.

Three pairs of eyes watched me from behind a stack of barrels across the square. I felt their gaze like a physical touch on the back of my neck, but when I turned, they scattered like startled birds. I caught a flash of red, yellow, and green fabric disappearing around the blacksmith's shop.

"Find anything good?" I called to Bell, forcing my voice to sound casual despite the strange fluttering in my stomach. The village had always felt small, but suddenly it seemed full of secrets I couldn't quite name.