Immediately she had woken up that following morning, asoka's mind had drifted elsewhere, she could not stop thinking about the missing pouch. The coins were not much in the grand scheme of the village, but to her, they represented weeks of careful saving. Every copper had been earned with sweat and patience, and the thought of losing it so easily left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She began a methodical search of the shop. Every shelf, every jar, even the tiny cracks between the floorboards, was examined. She pulled down sacks of herbs, overturned baskets of dried vegetables, and checked the little cupboard under the counter. Still, nothing. The coins had vanished.
"Where could it have gone?" she muttered to herself, pacing back and forth. Her gaze wandered to the door, half-expecting the stranger to stride back in and laugh at her. But the street outside was empty, quiet except for the distant clatter of a cart on the cobblestones.
By mid-afternoon, frustration had settled firmly in her chest. She locked the shop carefully, grabbed her coat, and set out along the path toward the market, hoping perhaps she had dropped it there—or someone had noticed it and kept it safe. Each familiar stone and tree along the road seemed to mock her, ordinary and unchanging, yet today they felt alien.
As she walked, she thought of Eliza. If anyone could offer advice, or at least a comforting word, it would be her. She quickened her pace, thinking over the ways she might ask without sounding foolish. When she finally reached the market square, the stalls were beginning to close. Merchants packed their goods, shouting goodbyes to familiar neighbors, and the air smelled of straw, baked bread, and the fading warmth of the sun.
"Eliza!" she called, spotting the girl by a stack of cloths near the fountain. Eliza turned, her eyes lighting up.
"Asoka! What brings you here this late?" she asked, brushing her skirts.
"I… I need your help," Asoka said, hurrying over. "Something's gone missing from my shop. A pouch of coins. I've searched everywhere, but it's gone." She glanced around, lowering her voice. "Do you remember a stranger in the square earlier today?"
Eliza frowned slightly, thinking. "A tall man with a cloak? He asked the way beyond the hills, right? Yes… I noticed him. He didn't seem… ordinary." She looked at Asoka with concern. "Do you think he took it?"
Asoka shook her head slowly. "I don't know. I didn't see him near the shelves, but the coins are gone. And I can't think who else would—" She stopped, realizing the absurdity of the question. In a place like theirs, few people would dare steal outright in broad daylight. Yet here she was, missing her hard-earned savings, and no one to blame but a passing stranger or a clever thief.
Eliza nodded. "Let's see if we can retrace your steps. Maybe something was dropped, or someone noticed it." She adjusted the bundle of cloth she had been carrying. "It won't hurt to ask a few people quietly. Sometimes the simplest solution is hiding in plain sight."
Together, the girls retraced Asoka's path through the square, asking merchants and villagers politely if they had seen a small pouch of coins. Some shook their heads, some pointed vaguely toward the fountain or the road leading out of town, and one old baker gave them a curious look, muttering something about young women worrying over trifles. Asoka smiled faintly despite herself—Eliza's presence made the hunt feel less grim, almost like a game.
Hours passed, and still there was no sign of the coins. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the square, when Asoka finally stopped, brushing sweat and dust from her hands. She looked at Eliza, worry mixed with exhaustion.
"I suppose it's gone," she said softly. "Maybe I'll never know what happened."
Eliza placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't let it ruin the day. You worked hard, and you'll earn it back. If someone meant you harm, we'll find out in time. For now, let's head back."
Asoka nodded, though her mind remained restless. The theft had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. Even in a settlement so familiar, the world outside—and even the strangers passing through—reminded her that her careful life could be disrupted in an instant.
As they walked back along the path, the first stars appearing in the sky, Asoka glanced toward the hills again. Perhaps one day, she thought, she would go beyond them—not just to see the world, but to understand it, and perhaps to find answers she could not uncover here.
Eliza laughed quietly. "You think too much for someone who's just missing a few coins."
Asoka smiled faintly, grateful for the company. "Maybe. But it's not just the coins, Eliza… it's the thought of having to start over again from scratch."
The two girls continued in companionable silence, stepping over the uneven stones, the night settling softly around the settlement. The shop, the fields, the familiar streets—all of it seemed unchanged, yet something in Asoka had shifted. A small thread of unease had been woven into her days, and she did not yet know where it would lead.
But for tonight, she had a friend, and that was enough to carry her home.