The rain fell in sheets as Vinny and Deborah sprinted across the quad, their shoes splashing through deepening puddles. The storm had turned the sky an eerie shade of green, the air thick with the scent of ozone and wet earth. Deborah's hand was warm in his, her grip tight enough to bruise, but Vinny didn't let go. He couldn't.
They skidded to a stop beneath the overhang of the old gymnasium, both breathing hard. Deborah's uniform clung to her skin, her blonde curls darkened to gold by the rain. Vinny's heart stuttered at the sight—something about her like this, wild and rain-soaked, felt *familiar*.
"You okay?" he asked, reaching out to brush a droplet from her cheek.
Deborah leaned into his touch, just for a second, before pulling away. "We need to keep moving. If that *thing* in the library wasn't Daniel…" Her voice cracked. "Then where is he?"
Vinny didn't have an answer. His mark ached dully, the silver lines now so faint they were almost invisible. The pact was unraveling.
A flash of movement near the science wing caught his eye. Lena stood in the downpour, her black clothes making her nearly invisible against the storm-darkened brick. She wasn't running. Wasn't hiding. Just *waiting*.
"There," Vinny said, nodding toward her.
Deborah's jaw tightened. "I don't like this."
Neither did Vinny. But they were out of options.
Lena didn't react as they approached. Her inky eyes were fixed on the distant oak tree, its skeletal branches thrashing in the wind. Up close, Vinny could see she was shivering, her lips tinged blue. A fresh cut marred her collarbone, the blood diluted pink by the rain.
"You saw him," she said without preamble. "The hollow boy."
Deborah stiffened. "That wasn't my cousin."
"No," Lena agreed. "Just the shell he left behind." She finally turned to them, her gaze lingering on Vinny's fading mark. "The Lady's getting stronger. She's breaking the pact already."
"How?" Vinny demanded.
Lena's lips curved into a humorless smile. "Because you're remembering." She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his wrist where the mark glowed faintly. "Every memory that comes back weakens the pact. And she *knows*."
Deborah moved between them, her shoulder bumping Lena's away. "Then we stop him from remembering. We—"
"No." Vinny caught her hand. "I *want* to remember."
The words hung between them, heavy with everything unspoken. Deborah's breath hitched, her eyes searching his face like she might find the boy she'd kissed in the shadows there.
Lena watched them with an unreadable expression. Then she sighed. "There's a way to strengthen the pact. But you're not going to like it."
---
**The Hollow Offer**
Lena led them to the abandoned greenhouse behind the science wing—a relic from the school's early days, now half-collapsed under ivy and neglect. The glass panels rattled ominously as the storm raged outside, but the air inside was strangely still, thick with the scent of damp soil and something sweetly rotten.
Deborah wrinkled her nose. "What *is* that smell?"
"Memory," Lena said simply. She crouched beside a rusted gardening table and pried up a loose floorboard. From the darkness beneath, she withdrew a glass jar filled with murky liquid. Floating inside were thin, root-like strands that pulsed faintly silver.
Vinny's mark *burned* at the sight. "What the hell is that?"
"A piece of the first bridge-builder." Lena held the jar up to the dim light. The roots twisted toward Vinny like they recognized him. "His memories. His *sacrifice*."
Deborah paled. "You want Vinny to—what? *Drink* that?"
"No." Lena's gaze locked onto Vinny's. "I want him to choose." She set the jar on the table with a soft *clink*. "Take this, and the pact holds. Your memories stay buried. She can't touch you."
Vinny stared at the swirling liquid. Somewhere in that murky depths were answers—about the tree, the Lady, everything. But at what cost?
"And if I don't?" he asked quietly.
Lena's expression softened, just for a moment. "Then you remember. And she comes for you. For *all* of you."
Deborah grabbed his arm. "Vinny, you can't—"
A deafening *crack* cut her off. The greenhouse door flew open, and there, silhouetted against the storm, stood the hollow thing wearing Daniel's face. Its head lolled to one side, blackened veins pulsing beneath its waxy skin.
*"She's awake,"* it rasped. *"She's hungry."*
Lena moved faster than Vinny could blink. She snatched the jar from the table and hurled it at the creature's feet. Glass shattered. The liquid splashed across the thing's legs, sizzling like acid.
It screamed—a sound that wasn't human, wasn't *possible*—and lurched back into the rain.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Lena turned to Vinny, her dark eyes gleaming.
"Time's up," she whispered.
Outside, the oak tree's branches lashed against the sky like grasping fingers. The storm howled. And somewhere beneath it all, beneath the wind and the rain and the distant scream of sirens, Vinny could hear *her* laughing.
The Lady of Roots was coming.
And she would take everything this time.