You step onto the broken bridge. For a heartbeat, the stone holds. Then it cracks. The center stones crumble beneath your feet, and you drop straight down into the darkness. Cold air rushes past your ears. Your stomach flips as the cavern vanishes above you. But instead of hitting the ground, something strange happens. Dust and debris swirl around you, thick as fog. The air grows warm. You catch a faint, unexpected smell—marshmallows and cinnamon, like a fire that never quite burned. You squeeze your eyes shut. When you open them, you are no longer falling. You are standing on the familiar dirt path outside your house in Iredale. For a moment, you wonder if the caves, the bridge, the questions—if all of it was some strange daydream. Then you sneeze. A cloud of dust puffs into the air. Your clothes are streaked with dirt and grit from the cave. Your hands are still shaking. It was real. You look up at the sky. The sun is sinking low, painting the clouds gold and orange. Sunset is coming soon. Too soon. Your heart sinks. As you walk toward your door, your foot catches on the step. You stumble forward, barely catching yourself. Inside the house, everything feels just slightly off. A chair scrapes instead of sliding. A cup tips instead of standing steady. The stories were true. Without the Emerald Crown returned in time, Iredale is fated to live with bad luck. The End.