Chapter 2: Hannah

The sudden downpour caught everyone, Noah and me included, completely off guard. Gasping, I stumbled backward beneath the onslaught of cold water, my mouth agape. Even Noah's eyes widened as he surveyed the scene, his hair already plastered to his head. Within seconds, the festival grounds transformed from a peaceful celebration into a chaotic scramble as people rushed to salvage decorations, food, and—mostly—themselves from the unexpected deluge.

Noah and I needed to act quickly to avert disaster. “We need to move everything!” Noah shouted over the deafening rain and panicked voices. “Hannah, help me direct the vendors!”

I nodded, already soaked to the bone, my recent conversation utterly forgotten. “On it!”

We split up, each taking a side of the grounds. I ran from booth to booth, urging vendors to pack up and head for the mansion's dance hall. “Leave anything unsalvageable!” I yelled, my voice nearly swallowed by the downpour. “Just grab what you can and go!”

The rain poured in sheets, limiting visibility to a few feet. I slipped and slid through the mud, my ceremonial robes clinging to my skin, but remained focused on the task. However, rounding a corner, a rushing group knocked me over. I fell hard, landing face-first in a puddle with a grunt.

“Luna Hannah!” someone gasped. “Are you alright?”

I pushed myself up, spitting out mud and wiping it from my eyes. Thankfully, I was unharmed. “I’m fine,” I assured them, waving them onward. “Go, get inside!”

As I rose, something in the mud caught my eye. I retrieved a soaked cloth bundle—Noah's ceremonial offering. I hesitated. It wasn't my responsibility, but I couldn't leave it in the mud. Quickly deciding, I pocketed the bundle and hurried toward the throng heading for the mansion.

Inside, the atmosphere was chaotic but less frantic. People shook out umbrellas, wrung out their clothes, and vendors improvised stalls in the large dance hall. I spotted Noah across the room, directing servants and barking orders. “Put the food tables over there!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the vaulted ceilings. “And make sure we have enough towels for everyone!”

As I approached, thumbing the offering in my pocket, a hand snatched my arm. Zoe. Her usually perfect blonde hair clung to her forehead, her mascara smudged.

“Some festival, huh?” she said, wiping her face with a small towel.

I forced a smile. “We couldn’t have predicted this. At least everyone’s safe inside, and the festival can continue.”

Zoe paused, wiping her face again. Her eyes narrowed, glinting with something unreadable. “Maybe we should have seen it coming. A freak storm on the Lunar Festival? Seems more than just bad luck, don't you agree?”

“I’m not sure I follow,” I replied slowly, a knot tightening in my stomach for reasons I couldn't pinpoint.

“I’m saying…” Zoe leaned in, lowering her voice, “…that maybe the Moon Goddess is trying to tell us something. Maybe she’s angry.”