It's been almost a month since we arrived. I'm working as a server at the café now—Angie offered the job. I hesitated at first, my usual reluctance kicking in, but she waved me off, insisting I needed something to do. I couldn't argue with that. Lucas? He jumped right in, of course. Mark asked him if he wanted to help with deliveries, and Lucas practically beamed. Typical. Always up for staying active.
We haven't forgotten our promise to figure things out, though. Every day, we've been combing through the town, hoping something—anything—might spark a memory or offer a clue. So far, our search has led us to Cedarbrook Community College, a cluster of aging brick buildings with ivy creeping up their sides. The campus felt oddly familiar when we first stumbled upon it, though neither of us could place why. Students milled around, laughing, backpacks slung over their shoulders, completely unaware of the blank spaces in our minds. It was the kind of place where life seemed simple, where the biggest concern was acing a test or finding a parking spot—far removed from the haze of mystery we found ourselves trapped in.
We wandered through the campus for a while, passing the library, the student lounge, even a small garden tucked between two of the buildings. It felt peaceful, but in that peace was something unsettling—how ordinary it all seemed compared to the confusion clouding our thoughts.
From there, we explored the nearby office buildings, their sterile glass facades reflecting back nothing but our own puzzled expressions. The businesses inside bustled with activity—people typing away at computers, holding meetings, grabbing lunch from food trucks parked outside. It was a world that kept moving forward while we were stuck, retracing steps we couldn't remember taking.
Everything felt so… normal. But maybe that's what made it so strange. How could the town seem so ordinary while we were so lost? Each place we visited held the same eerie calm, like we were outsiders looking in on a life we couldn't quite reach.
We were at a dead end. No clues, no sudden flashes of recognition. Just empty streets and forgotten places. And yet, even as the frustration mounted, neither of us was ready to give up. Not yet. There had to be something here, something buried in this quiet little town that held the key to who we were and why we'd forgotten it all. We just had to keep looking.
Today, the café is bustling with life. It's well past six, but the crowd doesn't seem to thin. Teenagers chatter loudly at the tables, and groups of office workers huddle over coffee, while an elderly couple shares a quiet pastry in the corner. The café is warm, cozy even, but my heart beats a little faster than I'd like, a quiet thrum beneath my chest. I keep my head down, hoping to go unnoticed. No stares, no whispers. Just... peace.
Stop overthinking, Max.
A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts.
"Hey, Max!" A strong familiar voice greets me, her grin wide and teasing. She's one of the first people I've met here, and she's hard to forget. Admin officer at some printing company, constantly grumbling about her coworkers, but always quick to help. Once, a bunch of college boys thought it'd be fun to mess with me. She stormed over, scolding them so fiercely, their faces burned brighter than their coffee.
Lucas found out later and, well, things got intense. I can still picture the look in his eyes—pure fury. His fists were so tight I thought he'd break them. The next day, those same boys showed up, stammering apologies. Lucas stood nearby, his hands still red from the tension. I didn't say anything, but I felt... safe.
"You're spacing out again, dear Max," She mutters, pulling me back.
"Oh, sorry, Ms. Diana," I mumble, instinctively looking down.
She clicks her tongue, but it's playful. "Oh Max, don't be so shy. You're too cute to hide your face," she coos, pinching my cheeks like I'm some sort of child. I groan as she hugs me from behind, her fingers still digging into my skin. "Now that I think about it, you seem young. Maybe around eighteen? What do you think?"
"Hm, I've never really thought about it..." I mumble.
Before the thought can settle, Angie swoops in, gently pulling Diana off me. "Diana, stop bothering him," she says with a sigh. Diana just laughs, placing her hands on her hips. "Oh, Angie, you're such a mother hen."
I can't help but watch them bicker, their voices familiar now. Diana, with her red hair and soft lines around her eyes, looks younger than she probably is. She's a bit taller than me. There is a mole on her right eyes, and some dark spots on her forehead. She has this air of quiet strength about her, though I don't think she realizes it.
The café chatters on around us as Diana settles into a chair with a groan. "Work's always exhausting, but at least we got paid today. End of the month cut-off, right?"
Angie chuckles, sipping her coffee. "You complain every month."
"You know me." Diana grins, raising her teacup in response.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and Lucas rushes in, out of breath. I stand up, my heart skipping a beat as I meet his frantic gaze. "Lucas? What happened?"
"Come with me, there's something I want to show you," he blurts, his tone urgent.
"What is it?" I ask, concern rising.
"It's nothing serious, I promise." He scratches his nose—his nervous habit. "I just found something cool, and I thought you'd want to see it."
Angie looks worried, but I wave her off. "It's fine, he just wants to show me something." We head outside, leaving behind a stunned Diana and Angie.
Lucas leads me to his motorcycle, and soon we're speeding through town, the cool air biting at our skin. We arrive at the cliff Walter had taken us to before. The golden hour bathes everything in a warm, glowing light, but something's different this time. My breath catches as I see the moon slowly overtaking the sun, casting a strange, ethereal glow over the horizon.
"What the...?" I mutter, staring in awe as the eclipse unfolds.
"I saw it earlier when I was heading back to the café," Lucas says, his voice tinged with excitement. "I knew you'd appreciate it."
"It's... an eclipse, you idiot," I say, though there's no bite in my tone.
He just grins, scratching his head sheepishly.
As we watch, Mark approaches from behind, with Angie and a few others following close. "You made it just in time," he says. "This happens every last day of the month. Bizarre, right?"
I can only nod, still mesmerized by the sight. An eclipse every month. At this point, I can't tell what's strange or normal in this town anymore.
--
It was raining later that midnight, a heavy downpour that drummed against the roof like impatient fingers. The scene outside mirrored the night Lucas and I first woke up here—stormy, unsettling, and full of questions. The sky hung heavy, dark and oppressive. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to drown out the constant thudding of the rain. Beside me, Lucas slept peacefully, his chest rising and falling in an unhurried rhythm. I glanced at him, wondering how he could always remain so calm, so unaffected by everything.
With a sigh, I slipped out of bed, the creak of the floorboards almost drowned out by the storm. I headed for the door when a glint caught my eye—a small, familiar shine on the desk. My bracelet. I hadn't even realized I'd taken it off. I slid it back on, the cool metal grounding me somehow.
Downstairs, the café was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the room like long-forgotten memories. Angie was at the counter, busy cleaning or organizing something, though the hour made me wonder what she could possibly be preparing for. The clock on the wall had just struck midnight, but she moved as if it were any ordinary afternoon.
I approached quietly, and she noticed me without turning, like she'd sensed I was there.
"Can't sleep?" Her voice was soft, motherly.
"Yeah," I muttered, still feeling the weight of the sleepless night clinging to me.
The rain was growing heavier, the sound of it almost hypnotic. I moved toward the window, drawn by the relentless storm outside. The wind howled, and the rain lashed against the glass in a furious rhythm. Then, cutting through the chaos, I heard it—a siren. Faint at first, but steadily growing louder, more insistent. My chest tightened. I rushed to the window, pressing my palms against the cool glass as if I could somehow make out where the sound was coming from.
Angie's footsteps approached. "What's the matter, child?" she asked, a hint of worry in her tone.
"Do you hear that?" I whispered, my eyes scanning the empty streets.
"Hear what?"
"The siren," I said, turning to look at her. Her expression was calm, but confusion flickered in her eyes.
"What siren?" she asked again, her voice steady. "I don't hear any siren."
The panic rising inside me faltered, replaced by a deep unease. What was happening? How could she not hear it? Before I could respond, the door to the café burst open with a loud crash, and a girl staggered in, drenched from head to toe. Her hair clung to her face, and her clothes were soaked, sticking to her skin like a second layer. She couldn't have been much older than me.
Angie was at her side in an instant, guiding her to a seat, but I stayed rooted in place, staring. The siren, which had been ringing so loudly in my ears, had faded the moment she entered, leaving only the sound of the rain.
The girl was trembling, her breaths shallow and fast, as if she'd been running for miles. Angie wrapped a warm towel around her shoulders and handed her a cup of hot chocolate, but the girl didn't move, her gaze fixed on the floor, distant and unfocused.
"Where am I?" the girl asked suddenly, her voice so soft I almost missed it.
"You're in a café, dear," Angie said gently. "You're safe now. What happened?"
The girl's lip trembled, and for a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer. "I... I woke up... in a playground. It was so dark. I don't remember how I got there. I was... I was so scared..." Her words trailed off, her voice cracking as she clutched the towel tighter around herself.
"What's your name?" Angie asked, her tone patient and kind.
The girl froze. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she tried to summon the answer. My breath caught in my throat, knowing what was coming.
"I don't... I don't know," she whispered, her eyes wide and haunted.
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as I watched her. Another one, just like us.
a sense of dread washing over me. How many more were there? How many more would stumble into this town, lost and confused, not knowing who they were or where they came from?
And I had a terrible feeling that time was running out.
---
The morning air felt heavy as Lucas and I wandered through the streets, our steps slow, our eyes scanning every inch of the town. The quiet whispers of a town going about its ordinary business surrounded us, yet nothing seemed worth noting—no hidden secrets, no signs of anything out of place. A sinking feeling settled in my chest, the kind that makes your stomach twist and your throat tighten. Each minute here felt like we were losing a piece of ourselves. I hugged my arms tighter around my body, as though the gesture could somehow hold me together.
We stopped near the side of the road, where dry leaves skittered across the pavement in a soft breeze. My legs gave out, and I dropped onto the curb, my head falling into my hands. The leaves continued their soft dance, oblivious to the weight pressing down on my shoulders.
Lucas sat beside me, his hand resting gently on my back. "Hey, hey," he said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the street, "It's alright."
I stayed silent, eyes staring blankly at the ground. His words barely registered, like distant echoes in a tunnel. All I could feel was the overwhelming sense of futility—like a dull ache that started deep in my chest and spread outward. The town, this endless routine of searching and finding nothing, was suffocating. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to push it all away. "Lucas, I don't know anymore," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Everything we do, it's just—what's the point?"
Lucas shifted, his arm pulling me closer. "You can't give up now, Max. We're not done yet. We'll figure it out. We just have to keep looking." His words were firm, determined, but I could hear the strain beneath them—like he was trying to convince himself as much as me.
I let out a shaky breath, eyes flicking over to him. His jaw was set, the usual lightness gone from his features. I wished I could see things through his eyes, wished I could believe as easily as he did. "I wish I had your optimism," I muttered, though the words tasted bitter.
Lucas leaned back, stretching his arms behind him. "That girl, Alyssa," he said, his eyes focused on some distant point. "She's like us, huh?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. She's adjusting. Accepting it, I guess." My eyes drifted to the street in front of us, where people were walking by as if everything was perfectly normal. "Angie's been helping her at the café. She's a good kid." I heard Lucas's snort beside me, his body shaking with a quiet chuckle.
"Good kid? You're starting to sound like an old man," he teased, nudging me gently. For a brief moment, the tension between us broke, and I managed a small smile.
We sat like that for a while, listening to the faint rustling of the leaves and the distant hum of passing cars. The world felt like it was moving on without us, leaving us stranded in some forgotten corner of reality. Then, without warning, Lucas shifted behind me, his fingers brushing lightly against my arm. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt through me, and I instinctively pulled away, heat rising to my face.
"What is it?" I asked, my voice tighter than I intended.
Lucas tilted his head, his fingers tracing the bracelet on my wrist. "This," he said thoughtfully, "we found it in the park, right? Where we woke up?"
I blinked, staring down at the bracelet like I was seeing it for the first time. The dull metal glinted in the afternoon light. "Yeah," I replied slowly.
"Why haven't we gone back there?" His voice was soft, almost distant. "Maybe we missed something."
His words hit me like a slap to the face. I shot up, turning to face him, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Lucas, you're a freaking genius! Why didn't we think of that before?"
He grinned, that familiar spark returning to his eyes. "Come on," he said, standing up and dusting off his jeans. "Let's go."
We jumped on his motorcycle, the roar of the engine drowning out the noise of the town as we sped down the streets. I felt a strange mix of adrenaline and dread swirling in my chest, my heart pounding in rhythm with the rush of wind around us. The houses blurred by, but as we passed one familiar yard, something tugged at the back of my mind.
"Hey, isn't that guy always sitting outside with his dog?" I muttered, narrowing my eyes at the empty porch.
"What guy?" Lucas asked, not taking his eyes off the road.
I frowned. "The guy with the dog. You've played with him before, right? Every time we pass here."
Lucas glanced over his shoulder at me, confusion clear in his eyes. "Max, I've never played with any dog. What are you talking about?"
My stomach flipped. I stared at him, waiting for the usual teasing grin, but his face remained serious. His eyes were focused straight ahead, as though he hadn't just turned my entire world upside down.
We reached the abandoned forest park not long after, the towering trees casting long, eerie shadows in the fading light. I jumped off the bike, my legs shaking slightly as I took in the desolate scene. The place was exactly as we'd left it—silent, forgotten, rusted with time.
"Lucas," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "You really don't remember the guy with the dog?"
He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "Max, I swear... there's no guy. No dog."
The wind picked up, tugging at our clothes and rattling the rusted fences of the park. For a moment, everything felt... wrong.
---
We'd been wandering the forest for what felt like hours, retracing steps we couldn't fully remember. The deeper we went, the more everything blurred together—endless rows of trees, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath our feet, and the occasional snap of a twig. Neither of us had spoken much, lost in thought, trying to piece together fragments of that day.
I kept glancing at Lucas, hoping he might remember something, anything, that could lead us back. But his face was just as clouded as mine, reflecting the same confusion. The weather today was nothing like it had been that day—bright sunlight filtering through the canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. That day, though, it had been chaotic. Rain. Wind. Thunder crashing overhead. Everything felt so muddled in my mind, like trying to hold onto a dream slipping away.
Now, in this peaceful quiet, it was hard to believe that same storm had ever torn through here. Squirrels darted up tree trunks, their bushy tails flicking with quick, nervous movements. Birds called out to each other from the branches above, filling the air with a kind of calm I hadn't noticed before. There was a beauty to this place, a stillness that felt like it had been waiting for us all along.
I slowed down, scanning the trees around us. "It's here somewhere," I said, more to myself than to Lucas. "I know it is."
Lucas didn't respond at first, just walked a few paces ahead before stopping abruptly. He turned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at something in the distance. "Wait. Max, look."
I followed his gaze and felt my breath catch. Ahead of us stood a large tree, towering over the others, its massive branches spreading out like a protective canopy. It was unmistakable—the same tree we'd sheltered under that day when the storm hit. The bark, dark and rough, was etched with deep lines, almost like scars. It looked ancient, as if it had stood there for centuries, weathering storms and seasons long before we ever stumbled upon it.
"That's it," Lucas whispered, a hint of relief in his voice.
We approached the tree cautiously, our footsteps quiet on the soft ground. I ran my hand along the bark, feeling the rough texture beneath my fingers. There was something comforting about it, like an old friend you hadn't seen in years but still remembered. We stood there for a moment, both of us looking around, searching for anything familiar. At first, it seemed like we'd come up empty. The forest floor was littered with fallen leaves and branches, nothing out of place. Just the quiet rustling of the wind and the occasional chirp of a bird.
"I don't see anything," Lucas muttered, his brow furrowed in frustration.
"Wait…" I knelt down, my fingers brushing aside some leaves near the base of the tree. And then, there it was—a small, weathered bag, half-buried under the debris. I froze, staring at it for a second, my heart suddenly racing.
"Lucas," I whispered, my voice tight with disbelief. "I found something."
He was beside me in an instant, kneeling down to look at the bag. It was old, the fabric worn and frayed at the edges, but unmistakably ours. We exchanged a glance, the weight of the discovery settling between us.
"Do you think…?" Lucas started, but his voice trailed off, the question hanging in the air.
I nodded, swallowing hard. "Let's see."
With trembling hands, I reached for the bag, tugging it free from the dirt and leaves that had claimed it over time. My fingers brushed against the stiff zipper, which resisted as though it hadn't been touched in years. A few moments of effort, and the zipper gave way with a dull rasp, revealing its contents. Papers, wrinkled and yellowed with age, spilled out, some torn at the edges, others curled in on themselves. Notebooks, too—worn, their covers faded and bent. My heart sank as I rummaged through it all, a hollow feeling gnawing at me. This wasn't the breakthrough I was hoping for.
"It's just a bunch of school stuff," I muttered, frustration creeping into my voice as I tossed the papers aside, watching them scatter in the breeze.
Lucas crouched beside me, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the bag. His hand shot out, stopping mine mid-motion. "No, look," he said quietly, with an urgency that made me pause. "There's something at the bottom."
I lifted the bag higher, and there, beneath the crumpled papers, something small caught the sunlight. Slowly, I pulled it out, my breath hitching in my throat as I turned it over in my hand. A bead bracelet. Simple and silver, its once-shiny surface dulled by time, cool and smooth in my palm. But what made me freeze was the engraving—etched in delicate letters, almost worn away but still readable.
"Lucas," I breathed, the word catching in my throat as my fingers traced the name on the bracelet.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Lucas leaned closer, his breath mingling with mine in the stillness, our faces inches apart. His eyes flicked to the bracelet, then back to me, the weight of it dawning on him too.
"This bag belongs to someone named Lucas," I finally said, my voice barely audible, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile connection forming in my mind.
Lucas blinked, his brow furrowing. "Isn't that me?"
I let out a short laugh, though it held no real humor, more like the nervous kind you get when everything starts feeling too real. "You are just using the name 'Lucas', remember?" I said, shaking my head, but my heart pounded in my chest, and a gnawing unease began to creep up my spine.
He scratched his nose, grinning sheepishly. "Right... forgot."
But his voice was softer now, uncertain. We both stared at the bracelet for a moment longer, and the question lingered in the air between us, unspoken but loud: Who is this, Lucas?
"There's nothing left here," I mumbled, my frustration returning as I tossed the empty bag aside, my hands shaking slightly.
"Wait—look at the notebooks," Lucas said, his voice more focused now. He reached for one, flipping through the pages quickly, his fingers moving with a sort of determination. "All of them have the name Lucas written in them. And here, see this?" His finger tapped the corner of the notebook, where a logo had been stamped in faded ink.
I leaned in, squinting at the familiar symbol, my pulse quickening as the letters became clear.
Cedarbrook Community College.
My stomach dropped. I didn't need to read the name to know what it meant. We'd walked those halls just weeks ago, searching, lost in the midst of students and classrooms. The same creeping feeling I had back then stirred inside me now—a mix of unease and familiarity.
"This is the school we visited," I whispered, more to myself than to Lucas. The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my voice cracking. "Weeks ago. This is it."
Lucas stood up slowly, still holding the notebook, his face unreadable as he stared at the name scrawled across the pages. The wind picked up around us, rustling the leaves overhead, but neither of us moved.
"We've got a lead," I said, the realization hitting me like a jolt. My hands tightened around the bracelet, the metal pressing into my palm. "This… this could be everything."
Lucas nodded, but his usual carefree demeanor had vanished, replaced by something deeper. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something like fear. Or maybe it was hope.
"Let's go back," he said, his voice steady now, no hesitation. "We need to know who this Lucas is."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as I glanced back at the bag, at the scattered papers and the dirt-covered bracelet in my hand. The weight of it all hung heavy in the air between us.
"Yeah," I said quietly, looking up at him. "Let's find out."
We left the clearing, our footsteps heavy, the silence between us growing louder with each passing second. There was no turning back now. We had a name, a place, and a promise. And somehow, in the pit of my stomach, I knew—this was just the beginning.
---
We decided to rest first and save the community college for tomorrow. Since it's the weekend, the place would be mostly empty—no students, no staff, no one to question or disturb us. By the time we got back to the café, it was already past dinner, and the place was quiet. Not a single customer in sight. Still, the café felt as warm and inviting as ever, the soft glow of the lights reflecting off the wooden tables. Angie, as usual, was at the counter, busying herself with some tasks.
Lucas and I were about to head upstairs when something made me pause. I glanced over at Angie, my gaze catching on her neck. There, just beneath her collar, something dark—almost like a bruise—peeked out.
"Hey, Angie?" I hesitated, my voice a bit shaky.
She looked up from what she was doing, her brow furrowed. "Yeah, Max?"
"What's that… around your neck?" I pointed, unable to shake the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine.
Angie blinked, confused, and brought her hand up to her neck. Her fingers grazed the spot I'd been staring at, but her expression didn't change. She glanced at the nearby coffee machine, using its reflective surface as a makeshift mirror
"What are you talking about? I don't see anything." She looked back at me, her brows knitting together in concern.
Lucas, who had been trailing behind me, stopped as well. "Max, what do you mean? I don't see anything weird either." His tone was casual, but there was a slight edge of curiosity. He peered closer, his eyes scanning Angie's neck.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling very foolish. Was I seeing things? My heart thudded in my chest, but I forced a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, it's nothing, just joking around." I managed a weak laugh, though it sounded forced even to me.
Angie smiled softly, though the concern in her eyes hadn't fully faded. "Alright, if you say so." She returned to her work, but I couldn't shake the image of the dark mark on her skin.
---
After we both finished bathing, the room filled with the soft scent of fresh soap mingling with the lingering aroma of the café downstairs. The rain had started again, tapping gently against the windowpane like a distant melody. Lucas and I settled into the bed, lying on our sides facing each other. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast warm shadows across his features, highlighting the worry etched in his eyes.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence was comfortable but heavy, filled with unspoken thoughts. As I lay there, staring into Lucas's calm, familiar face, my mind churned beneath the surface. The gnawing feeling inside me refused to settle. It was like my thoughts were running in circles, spiraling down a hole I couldn't climb out of. He was right here beside me, but I felt miles away, trapped in my own head.
What's happening to me?
The image of Angie's dark bruise flashed behind my eyes. I could still see it so vividly, the smudged mark against her pale skin. But if Lucas didn't see it, if Angie didn't feel it… was it real? Or was I losing it?
I clenched my jaw, trying to push the thought away. My chest tightened, and my mind started racing again. The man with the dog—he was real. I was sure of it. I'd seen him, over and over, sitting on his porch, greeting us as we passed by. But Lucas looked so confused when I mentioned it. The way he stared at me like I was saying something out of place—it scared me.
Am I imagining things?
I was put out of reverie when Lucas reached out and lightly tapped the bracelet on my wrist. "Hey… Are you still with me?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You seem lost in your own mind, like your thoughts have wandered somewhere far away…"
I shrugged, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. "I'm sorry, just tired, I guess."
A sharp pang of fear shot through me. What if this town was getting to me? What if it wasn't just the weird things happening around us but something inside me, slowly unraveling? My heart thudded faster, and I could feel the weight pressing down on my chest, suffocating me with doubt.
Get a grip, Max, I told myself, you're not losing it. Not yet.
I tried to focus on Lucas's words, on the feel of his hand resting on my arm, grounding me. But even that wasn't enough to silence the storm raging inside my head. The thought that maybe none of this was real—that I could be imagining things—kept creeping back. And worse, what if Lucas was just humoring me? What if, deep down, he thought I was crazy too?
What if I'm the problem?
He studied me for a moment, his gaze searching. "You're lost again… whatever you're thinking, it's not what you think it is. Look at me, Max. Please, just tell me what's going on," he urged, as if he could sense my doubts. Then, after a pause, he added, "It's about earlier, isn't it? What you thought you saw with Angie?"
I hesitated before nodding. "And the guy with the dog. It's like... I'm seeing things that aren't there."
Lucas's brows knit together in concern. "Tell me about it. Maybe we can figure it out."
I took a deep breath. "Well, remember when we were riding back and I mentioned the man with the dog? You always stopped to play with his dog whenever we passed by. But today, you acted like you didn't know what I was talking about."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah, and I honestly don't remember ever seeing a guy with a dog there. That house always looked empty to me."
"And then, at the café, I saw this dark bruise on Angie's neck. But when I pointed it out, neither of you could see it." Lucas reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing lightly against my forearm. "Maybe you're just tired. We've been pushing ourselves a lot lately."
I met his gaze, the worry in his eyes mirroring my own feelings. "But what if it's more than that? What if something's wrong with me?" He shook his head firmly. "Hey, don't think like that. Maybe there's an explanation. This town isn't exactly normal, after all." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, trying to lighten the mood.
I couldn't help but return a faint smile. "That's an understatement."
We lay there in silence again, the sound of the rain filling the space between us. Lucas's hand was still resting lightly on my arm, his touch warm and grounding.
"You know," he began softly, "ever since we got here, you've been the one keeping me grounded. Even when things don't make sense, having you around... it helps."
I looked up, surprised by his admission. "Really? I always thought you were the one keeping things positive."
He chuckled softly. "Maybe on the outside. But it's not always easy." His eyes softened. "I'm glad we're in this together."
A warmth spread in my chest, chasing away some of the lingering unease. "Me too," I replied quietly. His gaze held mine, and for a moment, the world outside faded away. There was something unspoken in the air—a connection that went beyond words. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and looked away, suddenly self-conscious.
"Max," he said gently, "we'll figure this out. No matter what. I won't let you face it alone."
I glanced back at him, meeting his earnest expression. "Thank you, Lucas."
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Anytime."
The rain continued its steady rhythm against the window, but the storm inside me had calmed a little. Lying there, I realized that despite all the uncertainties, there was one thing I was sure of—I trusted him.
"Get some rest," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Tomorrow's another day."
"Goodnight, Lucas."
"Goodnight, Max."
I closed my eyes, the sound of his steady breathing lulling me toward sleep. For the first time in a while, I felt a glimmer of hope.