The forest loomed around me as I stood next to my car, trying to figure out what on earth I was supposed to do now.
The gentle glow of the overhead moonlight bathed the scene, making the situation look more picturesque than it felt. I folded my arms and sighed, eyeing my poor car as if it could offer a solution.
It was clear I couldn't drive it out of here the path it had landed on was little more than a narrow trail, and the tires were sunk slightly into the loose dirt.
Trees pressed in on every side, their roots crisscrossing the ground like some natural maze designed to make my life harder.
But the real dilemma was whether to leave it behind.
I couldn't just abandon it. This car had been expensive, a gift I'd given myself after years of saving. Sure, it wasn't brand new, but it was mine. The thought of leaving it here felt like a betrayal. My car didn't deserve this fate.
I groaned, rubbing my temples. "This is ridiculous," I muttered aloud. "It's a car, not a child."
Still, I couldn't bring myself to walk away from it. I checked my phone, zero signal. Perfect.
Just perfect. If I could've called a tow truck, this whole ordeal might have been over in a couple of hours. But no, fate had other plans for me tonight.
After another long sigh and a few choice curses under my breath, I finally started walking.
The forest was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that makes you feel like you're being watched. I tried not to think about it too much, focusing instead on the rhythmic crunch of leaves under my boots.
As I trudged along the dirt path, I couldn't help but grumble to myself. "Why couldn't I have just driven into a ditch near civilization? No, I had to pick the most remote, inconvenient spot possible."
I glanced over my shoulder once, my car barely visible in the distance. "You better still be there when I come back," I muttered, pointing at it like a stern parent leaving a misbehaving child in time-out.
---
By the time I reached home, my legs were aching, my hair was a mess, and I was emotionally drained. The faint glow of the porch light was a welcome sight, even if it felt like I'd returned in defeat.
"Please still be there, please still be there," I whispered under my breath as I dialed the number for a towing service.
The man on the other end of the line listened to my plight before giving me the bad news: they couldn't do anything until morning.
I thanked him curtly and hung up, praying that no opportunistic thief or curious animal would take advantage of my poor, stranded car in the meantime.
Stepping inside, I was greeted by the warm smell of something sweet. My parents were in the living room, and my heart sank a little when I saw them hovering over a cake.
The cake itself was simple, unadorned, and entirely devoid of decoration. There wasn't even an inscription to mark an occasion, just a smooth white layer of frosting.
But the expressions on their faces were what broke me. They looked so hopeful, so eager, like they'd spent hours perfecting it just for me.
"Welcome home, sweetheart!" my mom said, beaming at me. "We thought you could use something sweet tonight."
My dad grinned, holding up a knife. "No candles this time, but we figured it's still worth celebrating."
I blinked at them, the weight of the day pressing down on me like an iron chain. I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I couldn't lie to them either. "I failed," I said, the words heavy and final. "Again."
Their smiles faltered for only a second before my mom rushed over, pulling me into a tight hug. My dad followed, wrapping his arms around both of us.
They didn't say anything right away, just held me as if their embrace could shield me from the storm raging inside.
After a long moment, my mom pulled back, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. "It's okay, Sera. You're only twenty-three. You have your whole life ahead of you to figure things out."
My dad nodded, his expression kind. "You're going to find your way, kiddo. Maybe it's not the hero academy, but that doesn't mean it's over. You've got time."
I forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "Thanks, guys," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Now," my mom said, patting my cheek gently, "go get some rest. You've had a long day."
I nodded and headed up to my room, my feet dragging slightly with every step. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, letting out a long, shaky breath.
The weight of their words, their support, was comforting, but it didn't erase the sting of failure.
Collapsing onto my bed, I stared up at the ceiling, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions.
The memory of Amara Veilshade's piercing golden eyes surfaced, unbidden. Her voice echoed in my head, smooth and confident:
"When you've thought about it enough, contact me."
I sat up abruptly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the card she'd given me. The black surface seemed to glisten in the dim light, the crimson numbers almost glowing.
I turned it over in my hands, studying it as if it held some secret answer to the questions swirling in my mind.
Was this really an option? Could I actually consider it?
The idea was absurd, and yet…
I thought about what she'd said. About how the hero system had treated me, how it had rejected me time and time again for being too kind, too different.
Amara's words had struck a chord I didn't want to admit was there. Maybe being a hero wasn't the only way to make a difference. Maybe…
No. I shook my head, trying to banish the thought. This was insane. She was a villain, a wanted criminal. Associating with her would only prove the academy right, that I didn't belong, that I wasn't good enough.
But then, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered: What do you have to lose?
I stared at the card for what felt like an eternity, the weight of my indecision pressing down on me. Finally, I slipped it into the drawer of my bedside table and shut it firmly.
"Not tonight," I muttered to myself. "Not yet."
Lying back down, I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion of the day wash over me. But even as sleep began to pull me under, the thought lingered in the back of my mind, a persistent whisper I couldn't quite ignore.
What do you have to lose?