Alina went back to the museum alone.
She didn't tell Elina. Not because she wanted to protect her—but because she already knew Elina would try to stop her. And this was something Alina needed to face head-on.
The building was quieter than before, the polished floors reflecting light too cleanly, too perfectly. Every step echoed, as if the space were listening.
The witch—the curator—stood in the special collections wing again, rearranging artifacts with meticulous care.
"You came," the woman said without turning.
Alina crossed her arms. "You expected me."
"I counted on it."
Alina stopped a few feet away. Up close, the woman looked ordinary—no shadowed eyes, no supernatural markers. Just calm. That made her more terrifying than any monster.
"End it," Alina said. "Whatever this is."
The woman finally faced her. "You're still trying to bargain."
"I'm trying to fix what we broke."
The witch tilted her head. "You didn't break it. You completed it."
Alina's jaw tightened. "Then undo it."
"Why?" the woman asked gently. "So you can pretend you're not afraid?"
That struck deeper than Alina wanted to admit.
"I know what you want," Alina said. "You want me. Take me. Leave her alone."
The witch studied her in silence. Something unreadable flickered behind her eyes.
"That offer has already been made," she said.
Alina's heart stuttered. "By who?"
The witch stepped closer. "By you. Long ago."
The air thickened, pressing against Alina's chest. Images flashed—fire, rain, a ring clenched in her fist, Elina standing beside her, silent but loyal.
"You always run toward the blade," the witch continued. "And your sister… always watches."
Alina swallowed hard. "She's stronger than you think."
"I know," the witch replied softly. "That's why this is difficult."
The number surged in Alina's mind, burning bright.
76
Her vision blurred.
When she steadied herself, the witch was already turning away.
"Time will decide," she said. "It always does."
Alina stood frozen long after the woman disappeared into the back corridors.
For the first time since the curse began, fear outweighed defiance.
Not fear of dying.
Fear of leaving Elina behind.
That night, Alina dreamed of standing at the edge of something vast and final. Elina was behind her, calling her name—but the sound was fading.
Alina reached back—
—and woke with tears on her face.
She sat in the dark, breathing hard.
"No," she whispered. "Not like this."
Outside, the world kept moving.
Inside the curse, the countdown continued.