Victoria stood in the village square holding a pageant sash she did not remember winning. The sash read FIRST ROUND. Her name was stitched below it in gold thread. She stared at the letters and felt a small panic. She knew the letters spelled her name. She could not have said the name out loud. She turned in a slow circle. Cottages leaned around the square. A banner strung between two posts promised a crown to the last contestant standing. Below it, a line of girls waited, each wearing a sash. Some had blank, slack faces. One girl opened her mouth to speak and produced only a soft, lost sound. Victoria understood then. This village ate names. Forget yours, and you became one of those empty faces in the line. She needed to anchor herself fast. She dug through her jacket pockets. Her fingers found a folded photo. Two girls grinned at the camera. One had dark hair and gold hoop earrings. The other had blonde hair and blue eyes. On the back, someone had written two names. Victoria read them. Bella. Chloe. The letters held still. They did not slip away like her own. "You're doing the pocket thing again," said a voice behind her. Victoria spun. The blonde girl from the photo stood there, arms crossed, boots planted wide. Chloe. Relief hit Victoria so hard her knees went soft. "You know me," Victoria said. "Tell me who I am. I can't—I can't find it." Chloe's jaw tightened. "That's how it starts. You lose the name, then you lose everything else." She grabbed Victoria's wrist. Her grip was firm, real. "Bella's already fading. Look." The dark-haired girl from the photo sat on a step nearby. Bella stared at her own hands as if they belonged to a stranger. "I had hoops," Bella whispered. "Gold ones. I think." Her earlobes were bare. Victoria knelt in front of her. "You're Bella. You had gold hoops. You're in this photo with me and Chloe." She held the picture up. Bella's eyes tracked it slowly. Chloe pulled Victoria back up. "It doesn't work that way. You can't save her by naming her. You save yourself by refusing to let go." She shook Victoria hard. "Say it. Your name. You came here to win that crown. You said it a hundred times. Say it now or you join the line." Victoria shut her eyes. She pressed the photo to her chest. She reached past the fog for the one sound that belonged to her. It rose up slow, then clicked into place. "Victoria," she said. "My name is Victoria." The square sharpened. Color returned to her own hands. She knew herself again. Then Bella stood, swaying. Her eyes had gone flat and empty. She walked past them toward the silent line of girls and took her place at the end. She did not look back. Victoria had held onto her own name. She had not held onto her friend.

Victoria watched Bella take her place in the nameless line. She wanted to run after her. Chloe held her arm. "She's gone," Chloe said. "Don't waste it. We still have to get you in." Victoria looked at her sash. FIRST ROUND, with her name in gold thread. It should have meant something. It meant nothing yet. She crossed the square to the banner that promised a crown. A woman in a long dark coat stood beneath it, holding a ledger. Her face was pale and smooth. She did not look up. "Name," she said. "Victoria," Victoria said. The woman ran a finger down the page. "You are not on the list. Uninvited contestants join the line." She lifted her chin toward the slack-faced girls. Victoria's stomach dropped. "I have a sash. It has my name on it." The woman's finger stopped. "A sash is not an entry. The invited bring a token the Village cannot eat. Something a name is tied to." Chloe caught Victoria's eye. "The photo," she whispered. "Our names held on it. Yours didn't, but theirs did." Victoria pulled the folded photo from her pocket. Two girls grinned up at her. Bella. Chloe. On the back, the two names sat still and clear. She held it out. "This," she said. "These names don't slip. They're real." The woman took the photo. She turned it over. For the first time she looked at Victoria. "Two names," the woman said. "Not yours." "They know me," Victoria said. "She came to warn me." She pointed at Chloe. "That's her. She's standing right here. A name on paper and a name that walks. That's two witnesses the Village can't swallow." Chloe stepped forward, boots planted wide. "I vouch for her," Chloe said. "Victoria. Write it down." The woman studied them both. Then she dipped a pen and wrote in the ledger. The gold thread on Victoria's sash warmed against her chest. The letters FIRST ROUND seemed to sit heavier now, like they had weight behind them. "You're entered," the woman said. She handed the photo back. But her mouth curved. "The pageant takes payment. You gave a token tied to names. The Village keeps one." Victoria's hand froze on the photo. The ink on the back was changing. Bella's name faded first, letter by letter, until the space was blank. Only Chloe's name stayed. "No," Victoria said. She rubbed the empty space with her thumb. Nothing came back. The last proof of Bella was gone from the picture, the same way Bella had gone from the line. Chloe's jaw tightened. "That's the cost," she said quietly. "You're in now. But every round will ask for more." Victoria stood inside the pageant at last. The line of nameless girls waited behind her. She had bought her way in with Bella's name. She gripped the photo and looked toward the first round, already counting what she still had left to lose.