The day felt heavier as Ryle walked aimlessly, the image of Faith's face from the dream still flickering in his mind. He let the city guide him, the familiar streets pulling him toward places he hadn't visited in years. He didn't know where he was going until he stopped and saw it—the gates of his old school.
It stood as it always had, the faded green paint chipped away by time. The sight of it made his chest tighten. He hadn't been here since graduation, when life felt simpler and the world seemed full of possibilities. Back then, Faith had been at the center of those possibilities.
Ryle hesitated for a moment before heading inside. He wasn't sure why he was here, but something about seeing the school again felt... necessary. As he stepped inside, memories flooded back—the rush of students in the halls, the chatter that filled the air between classes.
His feet moved on their own, carrying him toward the main building. The hallways smelled the same—dusty chalk and camphor. Each step brought him closer to something he couldn't name, a mixture of nostalgia and regret swimming in his chest.
When he 3rd floor, he stopped. The door to one of classroom was slightly open, just enough for him to peek inside. He could almost hear the echoes of his classmates and the buzz of low conversation.
He pushed the door open, stepping inside. The classroom was eerily quiet, bathed in soft sunlight. His gaze immediately went to the desk on the back Faith's desk.
She used to sit there every day smiling without a care. He remembered how she'd glance out the window when she thought no one was looking, her thoughts clearly far away. Ryle had spent countless hours watching her, memorizing the way her hair fell over her face, the way her smile lit up the room.
His fingers grazed the edge of the desk as he sat down in the seat next to it—the one that had been his. Memories came rushing back: the times they would laugh uncontrollably and the silent murmurs.
Ryle closed his eyes, letting the past wash over him. It felt like he could almost hear her voice, soft and clear, whispering his name. But when he opened his eyes, the room was empty. The life it had once held was long gone, leaving only traces on the walls.
He stood and walked to the board, running his hand over its dusty surface. Words were faintly visible beneath the layer of chalk—a lesson half-erased just like pieces of the past visible but incomplete.
The sound of laughter drifted through the open window, pulling him back to the present. He looked outside to see children running across the courtyard, their joy a stark contrast to the heaviness he carried. For a moment, he envied them, their ability to exist without the weight of memories.
Ryle turned back to the room, his eyes lingering on her desk one last time. He wanted to hold onto the memory of her there, smiling, but the image began to fade as he stepped out of the classroom.
Walking through the halls felt strange, like he was moving through a ghost of his past self. When he reached the exit, he stopped and glanced back. The building stood quiet, its walls holding the stories of so many lives, including his own.
As he walked out the gate and back into the city, Ryle's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a message from Luca. "Any sign of her yet?"
He typed a quick reply: "Not yet. But I'm trying."
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, the weight of the day pressing down on him. The visit to the school hadn't given him the answers he'd hoped for, but it reminded him of something important: the moments he shared with Faith weren't just memories. They were a part of him, shaping the person he had become.
And even though she was gone, she still felt close—like a part of his story that hadn't been finished yet.
As the sun began to set, Ryle knew one thing for sure: he couldn't give up. Not yet.