Lucy pressed a strip into his hand. It read: When I knelt by stone, I smelled my father's pipe. She swallowed, tears in eyes. "Memory, but not mine."
He placed a hand over hers. "We'll ground you."
Emma spoke quietly: "What if this thing doesn't want us here?"
Jude looked at fire. "Then we show it we've already planted roots. We already named ourselves. We belong."
Grace added softly: "But we must stay vigilant."
They formally ended night watch plan: next night, three shifts, all fourteen of them including Lyla's echo burned in their hearts.
Night fell as they retired. Jude lay awake, heart thundering. He sensed shapes at the edges of vision: deeper than watchers, presence, archaic. He heard whispering voices in footsteps that weren't footsteps. He felt breath on his neck, but Grace slept undisturbed next to him.
He reached out for her, counted her breath. In that moment, he drew strength. They would not surrender.
He closed his eyes. Dream came.
