CHAPTER 7

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The days rolled on, but the unspoken concern about Keefe's lingered like a persistent shadow. The group couldn't shake the images of the bruise that had briefly revealed itself, and whispers of worry passed between them in hushed tones.

One afternoon after school, they found themselves gathered at the familiar coffee shop. The air buzzed with the energy of their laughter, but beneath it lay an unspoken tension. Dex, unable to contain his worry any longer, brought up the subject.

"Has anyone else noticed something off about Keefe lately?" he asked, glancing around the table.

Marella nodded, her expression serious. "Yeah, he's been more quiet than usual. And did you see that bruise? What do you think happened?"

Sophie, fidgeting with her cup, spoke up. "I tried asking him, but he brushed it off. Said it was just family drama."

Linh chimed in, concern etched on his face. "But what if it's more than that? What if he's in trouble?"

The group fell into a thoughtful silence, grappling with the weight of the unspoken worries. It was Tam who spoke up, his voice quiet but determined. "Maybe we should talk to him again. Make sure he knows he can trust us."

The decision settled like a pact among friends, and later that day, as they gathered at the beach, the group watched cautiously as Keefe approached them. The sun dipped low, casting long shadows on the sand, mirroring the shadows of concern that danced in their eyes.

"Keefe," Fitz began carefully, "if something's going on, we're here for you, I know I haven't been that...welcoming, but, I do care."

Keefe's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he shrugged it off. "It's really not a big deal, guys. Just some family drama. I've dealt with worse."

But Sophie, her gaze unwavering, pressed on. "Keefe, you're our friend. If you're going through something, we want to be there for you."

He hesitated, the walls he had carefully built showing signs of cracks. "It's complicated. Just trust me, okay?"

The group exchanged glances, understanding that Keefe might not be ready to share his struggles. But the silent promise hung in the air—an assurance that whenever he was ready, they would be there.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the shadows on the sand seemed to echo the shadows of untold stories that danced in Keefe's eyes. 

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