Huddled in her window seat, she stared at the storm, the world outside blurring with unshed tears. A tense shuffle of footsteps outside her door shattered the quiet, followed by a bang that made her jump.
The door flew open, and Ariella's gaze snapped to an older, disheveled boy. His warm brown skin paled in the gloomy afternoon from the storm. She knew from pictures that it was Braxton, Valerie's older brother. His face was etched with worry, his eyes red-rimmed and desperate. He slammed the door behind him, leaving them in anxious silence.
"Ariella," his voice rasped, thick with barely contained emotion. "What happened to my sister?"
Ariella flinched, the memory of her horrifying nightmare flooding back. It felt like a lifetime ago, two weeks filled with a gnawing emptiness and suffocating worry.
"I don't know," she stammered, tears welling up. "The last time I saw her was..."
Braxton rubbed his forehead, his breath coming out in a shaky sigh. "It's been two weeks, Ariella," he said, his voice quieter now, laced with weary despair. "Everyone keeps telling me to be patient, that the police are doing everything they can...but I just want my little sister back."
Tears spilled down Ariella's cheeks, a choked sob escaping her lips. "It's all my fault," she whispered, the words heavy with self-loathing.
Braxton's eyes softened. "No, Ariella," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "It's not."
"But maybe if I fought harder..." she trailed off, guilt a physical weight pressing down on her. "Maybe if I..."
He pulled her into a crushing hug, and Ariella dissolved into tears, the dam finally breaking. Braxton held her tight, whispering words of comfort against her hair.
"Stop blaming yourself," he murmured. "Valerie wouldn't want that. We have to hold onto hope that we'll find her one day."
Ariella pulled back, wiping at her tears. Braxton's words pierced the fog of self-pity, sparking a flicker of determination within her. She wouldn't let Valerie's disappearance crush her. She had to be strong, for Valerie, for herself.
