Everyone agreed with Stella's analysis, the weight of her conclusion settling over the group like a quiet, undeniable truth.
Adam broke the silence first.
"Those people must be behind the recent incidents as well."
One of the men frowned slightly.
"But when we patrolled yesterday, there was nothing unusual."
"There wouldn't be," Adam replied calmly, "not if they're careful."
He paused, then added with quiet authority, "We'll stay here tonight. If they're still watching this place, they may try to scare us too. Be prepared."
Stella watched him from the side, arms folded loosely.
He looks better like this, she thought. These past two days, he hasn't been strutting around like a peacock. I hope it lasts… this version is far more tolerable.
As if sensing her gaze, Adam turned his head and caught her staring.
"What are you looking at?" he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. "It's better if you stay close to me."
Stella blinked once, unimpressed.
"I take it back. He's exactly the same."
By evening, they prepared for the night. This time, instead of staying in the open, they settled within the willow forest itself.
The long, drooping branches formed a loose curtain around them, swaying softly with the night breeze. Shadows stretched and shifted between the trees, giving the place a quiet, watchful atmosphere.
They gathered around a small fire, its light flickering across their faces. Conversation came easily at first, light remarks, small jokes, the kind of talk meant to push back the unease creeping in from the darkness beyond.
After dinner, Stella stood up quietly.
"I'm going to rest," she said, gesturing toward the carriage.
No one questioned it. The day had been long.
Inside, she lay down for a moment, eyes open in the dimness. Waiting.
Outside, voices continued. Laughter rose, then faded.
Adam sat slightly apart from the others, a book resting in his hands. Stella recognized it immediately, the same book she had taken from the library without permission. He must have noticed it earlier and taken it back.
"Of course he did", she thought, " how annoyingly observant."
She waited a little longer, listening carefully.
When the conversation outside grew deeper and more distracted, she slipped out silently, careful not to disturb even the smallest branch under her feet.
"Now's my chance…"
Moving through the trees with measured steps, Stella headed straight toward the village. The path was darker now, the remains of the burnt houses barely visible under the pale moonlight.
The air felt heavier than before, as if the place itself held its breath.
Without hesitation, she made her way to the well.
From her pocket, she took out the necklace and held it up, letting the faint light catch its surface.
"I'm certain now… the owner of this necklace was close to Helena and her mother. This can't be a coincidence."
She stepped closer to the well, her gaze fixed on its dark interior.
The silence around her deepened, pressing in from all sides.
Then, suddenly, a memory surfaced—sharp and unexpected.
Her eyes widened.
"Wait… could it be... him!"
A sound cut her off.
Footsteps.
Soft, deliberate, moving through the grass behind her.
Stella didn't turn immediately.
Instead, her expression hardened, her voice dropping into a cold, controlled tone.
"It's you… isn't it?" she said, "you were behind everything that happened here."
The footsteps stopped.
Then came the answer, in a voice she knew well.
"Well done," the man said lightly, "you figured it out."
Stella turned slowly, a faint, cold smile forming on her lips.
"Who would have thought," she said, her eyes locking onto him, "that it was you all along… Mr. Albert."
Albert stood a few steps away, his usual composed smile resting on his face, though something about it felt thinner now, strained.
"You're not so different," he replied. "Who would have guessed you were lying about everything?"
"Perhaps," Stella said with a small shrug, "but at least I didn't kill anyone."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Albert's gaze drifted away from her, settling instead on the well.
Something flickered in his expression, heavier than before.
"So," Stella continued, her voice quieter now but no less sharp, "tell me… why would someone like you commit a crime like this?"
Albert let out a faint breath. When he spoke again, his tone had turned colder.
"That's beyond the understanding of a little girl like you."
Stella's eyes narrowed slightly.
Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the necklace, holding it up where he could see it clearly.
"And what about the owner of this?" she asked, "you should know something about him."
The moment Albert saw it, his composure shattered.
His eyes widened, his breath catching as if something had struck him from within.
"Where… did you find that?" he asked, his voice unsteady, almost trembling.
Stella's expression hardened, a trace of disgust crossing her face.
"How could you do this?" she said, "wasn't he your closest friend? His wife treated you like family… and his daughter, she saw you as a father!"
Albert didn't answer.
His hands trembled at his sides, fingers tightening slowly as if trying to hold onto something slipping away. The night around them seemed to grow quieter, heavier.
Fragments of the past rose unbidden in his mind, faces, voices, moments long buried. He could almost hear them again, feel the weight of those years pressing against his chest.
For the first time, the mask he wore so easily began to crack.
And in that silence, standing before the well that had swallowed an entire village, Albert struggled, not with Stella, but with something far deeper within himself.