Lila didn’t answer right away. Then she sat next to me, her voice soft. “You’re the only one who’ll look out for her if something goes wrong. You know that, right?”
I nodded slowly.
I’d already made that promise to myself.
But after what Lila just told me?
Now it felt like a vow I couldn’t afford to break.
My phone buzzed again.
I'll be there. But I'll find my own ride. See you tomorrow.
"She's coming, isn't she?" Lila asked quietly.
I nodded, pocketing my phone. "Yeah. She is."
"Then may the moon goddess help her." Lila turned back toward the house, her silhouette stark against the porch light. "And you too, brother."
I watched her disappear inside, then turned back to the moon hanging low over Stone Mountain. The same moon that would illuminate tomorrow's ceremony. The same moon underwhich we'd discover whether Maya Ortiz was just another new girl in town or something much more significant to our community's ancient ways.
Either way, I couldn't shake the feeling that after tomorrow night, nothing would be the same.
Chapter 5
Maya
Istared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to convince myself that sneaking out to the bonfire was a good idea. Mom had been crystal clear; I wasn't to go anywhere near Stone Mountain tonight. But Bolton's text messages had been equally persuasive, and the mystery of why my mother was so afraid of a simple high school tradition had gnawed at me all day.
"Maya?" Mom's voice floated up from downstairs. "Do you want some dinner? I made burgers."
"Not hungry," I called back, wincing at how suspicious that sounded. I was always hungry.
I heard her footsteps on the stairs before I had the chance to hide my towel-wrapped outfit—jeans, boots, and my hoodie already tucked underneath. I shoved the bundle deeper under the sink and straightened just as she appeared in the doorway.
Her face was carefully neutral, what I called her nurse face. Calm, composed, but watchful. She used it for patients in pain who insisted they were fine, and apparently for daughters who were clearly not planning to sneak out.
"You feeling okay?" she asked, studying my face as if it might give her a diagnosis.
"Just tired." I faked a yawn and stretched my arms overhead. "Long week."
She leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, eyes flicking to the window where the full moon glowed through the trees.
"I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight,"she said after a pause. "Like we used to. Just something dumb and comforting. Pajamas, popcorn, the works."
My guilt stung like a paper cut, small but persistent.
"Maybe tomorrow?" I offered gently. "I didn’t sleep much last night. I probably need the rest."
She was quiet for a second too long before saying, “Right. Of course.”
Her posture was relaxed, but I could see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tightened around her elbow.
"About what I said yesterday..." Her voice was careful now. Too careful.
"About the bonfire?" I tried to keep my tone casual, though my heart picked up speed.
"Yes." She took a step into the room. "I need you to understand that Stone Mountain isn’t like other places. The people here hold tight to traditions. Those traditions aren’t just quaint or old-fashioned.They’re powerful. Sometimes dangerous."
