I stare down at my toast, completely zoned out, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, then look up to see Ellidy standing there. "Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn't see you," I mumble, startled.

She sits down beside me without hesitation, her gaze lingering on me with a knowing softness. "It's okay," she says gently. "But you look like you've seen a ghost. What's going on?"

I force a smile, but it feels thin, fake. "I'm fine."

Ellidy doesn't buy it. She leans in just a little, her light blue eyes locking onto mine, sharp but concerned. "Come on, you're not fooling anyone. I know you better than that. Something's up. You've been off all morning."

I shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the weight of everything makes it hard to breathe. "I'm just... tired. That's all."

She doesn't pull back, her gaze steady and patient. "You don't look tired, you look... lost. Like you're carrying something heavy and you don't know where to put it." Her voice softens, but there's an edge to it now, like she's not going to let me dodge this. "You can talk to me, you know."

I feel the walls inside me tightening. It's not that I don't trust her—I do—but I can't share everything. Not now. Not like this.

"Ellidy," I say, looking away, trying to break the tension. "I appreciate it, but... I'm fine. Really."

She doesn't give up. "I get it. But whatever it is, it's eating you up inside, isn't it?" Her voice is quiet, but there's a depth to it that makes my chest ache. "You don't have to go through this alone."

I glance at her, my throat tight. I want to tell her, I really do, but I can't—not yet. My mind's a mess, and I don't even know where to start.

The moment stretches between us, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, I take a shaky breath. "I know, trust me. But I... I have to go."

Ellidy looks like she wants to argue, but she doesn't. She just gives me a long, searching look, like she's trying to figure out if I'm really okay or if I'm just convincing myself. After a moment, she nods slowly. "Alright, but don't keep shutting me out, okay? Whatever's going on, I'm here. Always."

Her words linger, and even though I know she means it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm about to step into something darker—and I don't want to drag her into it.

I push past her, walking around the corner, and find my mom waiting for me, her expression unreadable.

My fingers nervously twist the necklace around my neck as I approach her. I'm trying to keep calm, but it's hard when everything feels so out of control.

"We need to do something," I say quietly, my voice tight with frustration. "God is getting stronger by the day... I can feel it."

Mom doesn't say anything right away. She just looks at me, her expression unreadable. The kind of expression she wears when she's thinking, weighing the cost of every word before speaking. She's always been like this—calculating, never rushing.

I take a deep breath, glancing out the window as I speak again, my voice barely above a whisper. "And Dad's just denying it all. Pretending it's not happening."

The silence between us stretches. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she processes everything I've just said, but there's a flicker of worry in her eyes—something she's trying not to show.

Finally, she speaks, her voice calm but sharp, like steel wrapped in velvet. "We can't afford to wait much longer. If what you're saying is true, then every day we delay, he gains more power. And we lose more ground."

I feel the weight of her words pressing down on me. This isn't just about some minor threat. This is about survival. "But what can we do? We're just... we're so outmatched."

Mom steps closer, her face set with determination, her voice dropping low. "It's not just about strength. It's about strategy, preparation, and timing. We need to be ready to act. You need to be ready."

Her words sting, but I can't deny they're true. I feel so small against this looming force, and no matter how much I try to push it down, the fear's still there, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

"I don't know if I am," I admit, the words slipping out before I can stop them. "I feel like I'm the only one who sees how close we are to losing control. No one's listening."

Mom's expression softens, but it only lasts a second. "I know it feels like that," she says quietly. "But you're not alone. And we will stop him—together."

I meet her gaze, trying to steady my racing heart. "What's the plan?"

Her eyes flicker toward the door, as if she's already mentally preparing for whatever comes next. "Meet me in the map room tonight at 11. Don't be late. We need to move fast."

I hesitate for a moment, then ask, "Should I bring Ellidy?"

Mom's face hardens. She shakes her head firmly. "No. It's too dangerous. You need to come alone. And make sure no one follows you. Understood?"

I swallow hard, a knot forming in my stomach. "But... she'll worry."

Mom gives me a look—one of quiet urgency, mixed with that cold, determined edge she always has in moments like this. "Ellidy is not part of this. It's too risky. We need to protect her. Keep her out of this, for now. You can tell her later, but for now—no distractions."

I nod slowly, the weight of her decision sinking in. "Alright. I'll be there."