Elara’s breath fogged in the cold air. "Unfinished?"

"Can I close it?"

"Collecting?"

Inside was a key. Not metal, but something heavier. Obsidian, maybe. It felt cold in her hand, like it had been sitting at the bottom of a well.

One vial caught Elara’s eye. It was pure white, almost blinding. Inside, she saw a child—her child. A daughter she had never had. A pregnancy she had terminated not because she wanted to, but because the timing was wrong. The girl in the vial was laughing, running through a field that didn’t exist.

"Those are the dangerous ones," the archivist said softly. "The choices you refused to even consider . The cruelty you avoided by looking away. The love you were too afraid to accept. They are not sad. They are angry ."