The Hidden City

Chapter 1: The Family

Matt Jones tugged on his football jersey, the familiar fabric stretching snugly over his broad shoulders as he gazed out his bedroom window. The early morning sun bathed the quiet neighborhood in golden light, the sky clear and wide, a perfect backdrop for a day of practice. A faint sigh escaped his lips as he bent down to lace up his well-worn sneakers. As his fingers moved swiftly, a small twinge of anxiety settled in his chest, creeping in uninvited.

Before heading out, Matt paused for a moment, his hand reaching instinctively for a small blue pendant that rested just beneath his jersey. Tucking it carefully into his shirt, he let his fingers linger for a second longer than usual, feeling the smooth surface of the pendant—a gift, though he couldn't quite recall who from. He didn't know why, but it always gave him a sense of comfort, especially on days like this, when the weight of everything felt a little heavier.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, brushing off the subtle unease. Today was just another day, or at least that's what he kept telling himself.

Matt was a typical high school junior—at least on the surface. His athletic build came from years of football training, his long legs and toned arms showing the hours of work he put in at practice. His blond hair, always a bit unkempt, fell over his forehead, and his blue eyes seemed to carry a hint of the past, a longing for memories that he couldn't quite grasp. People always told him that he had his mother's eyes—gentle and bright—but the rest of his features, sharp and strong, were pure Vince.

He stepped into the kitchen, catching sight of his dad, Vincent, who looked impossibly put-together for someone who was about to attend a funeral. Vince was a tall, imposing figure—six foot three, with a frame that seemed even larger with the somber black suit he wore. Matt often wondered how his dad managed to maintain such a build when he spent most of his time in his real estate office. His father's hazel eyes flickered up, offering Matt a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Morning, kid," Vince said, his voice rougher than usual. He was trying to hide it, but Matt knew the day weighed heavily on him.

"Morning, Dad," Matt replied, sitting at the table, the familiar creak of the chair grounding him.

Raquel—Rocky—burst into the room, her energy a stark contrast to the tension in the air. "There you are, sleepyhead!" she teased, her voice lilting with that effortless humor she always had. She wore a black dress, and her hair, dark brown like melted chocolate, framed her face as she gave Matt a mock stern look. "You didn't even brush your hair, did you?"

Matt just shrugged, offering her a sheepish grin. "Looks fine to me."

Rocky rolled her eyes playfully, but Matt knew that deep down, she was always making sure he was okay. Raquel wasn't just his aunt; she was the closest thing to a mom he had. People often mistook her for his mother, and he couldn't blame them. She and Elizabeth, his real mom, looked so similar in old photos—the same bright blue eyes, the same kind smile. Vince often said Raquel had been like Elizabeth's shadow, always following her lead, always idolizing her older sister.

The three of them sat down for breakfast, an unspoken heaviness lingering between them. The funeral they were about to attend wasn't just any funeral. Donna had been more than Vince's assistant—she had been family. She had been there for as long as Matt could remember, showing up to every Thanksgiving dinner, making sure Matt always had what he needed while his dad was busy with work.

"Eat up, Matt. You've got a big day ahead of you," Vince said, though his tone was distant. It was clear his mind was already at the funeral.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Matt replied, poking at his pancakes. He didn't feel much like eating. The thought of Donna being gone felt too surreal. She had died in a car accident just last week, and it still didn't seem possible. She had always been a constant presence, a steady hand, a reassuring smile. He'd never thought she wouldn't be there.