The sun had barely begun to rise when Stella and Bryan set off, leaving behind the small, creaky house of Mirella, the witch. The events of the night weighed heavily on Stella's mind, each step reminding her that time was running out for Emma. The ritual had failed, and Emma was still trapped in that dark place, consumed by whatever malevolent force had taken hold of her.
Bryan walked beside her, silent but resolute. He had always been her rock, a calm presence in the chaos, and right now, his quiet support was the only thing keeping Stella from breaking down completely. But as strong as Bryan was, even he couldn't fight what was happening to Emma—not without more help.
"We need another way," Stella muttered, more to herself than to Bryan. Her voice was hoarse from the exhaustion, and her thoughts felt scattered, like pieces of a puzzle she couldn't fit together.
