A Safe Haven

Prologue

LEILA'S POV*

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the school grounds as the last of the names were called. The applause was thunderous, filling the air with a sense of accomplishment and joy. This was it—the moment we’d all been waiting for, the moment we’d worked so hard for.

And yet, as I stood among my classmates, clad in my cap and gown, I felt a gnawing emptiness in my chest.

The ceremony was over. Diplomas were handed out, tassels turned, and now, as I looked around at the faces of my friends and peers, all I could see were smiles, tears of joy, and embraces from proud parents. It should have been a moment of pure happiness. I should have been over the moon, celebrating with the people who mattered most to me. But instead, all I felt was a hollow ache.

I scanned the crowd, hoping against hope that maybe—just maybe—I'd spot them. But deep down, I already knew the truth. My parents weren't there. They weren't in the audience, they weren't waiting outside the gates, and they hadn’t been there for me all day.

The memory of my elementary school graduation flashed before my eyes—how I had waited for them, heart pounding with excitement, only for that excitement to slowly fade into disappointment as I realized they weren’t coming. I had been so small then, so full of hope and expectation. But now, after years of the same routine, I should have been used to it. And yet, the pain felt as fresh as it did that day.

As the crowd began to disperse, the weight of their absence settled heavily on my shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. I wouldn't cry. Not here, not now. I’d learned long ago that tears wouldn’t change anything.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I nearly jumped at the sudden noise. Glancing down, I saw the name "Mom" flashing on the screen. For a split second, a flicker of hope sparked in my chest. Maybe they were here, just running late. Maybe they had a surprise waiting for me.

I quickly swiped to answer. "Mom?"

"Leila, sweetie, congratulations!" My mother's voice rang out, warm and familiar, but also tinged with that ever-present undercurrent of busyness. "We’re so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Mom," I replied, forcing a smile that I knew she couldn’t see. "I... I wish you were here."

There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost hear her trying to find the right words. “I know, honey, I know,” she said finally, her voice heavy with regret. “We wanted to be there so badly, but things at the company have just been... well, you know how it is. We’re swamped. There’s a huge deal we’re trying to close, and we just couldn’t get away.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, nodding even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I get it,” I said softly. And I did get it—this wasn’t anything new. Their work had always come first, ever since I could remember. But understanding didn’t make it hurt any less.

“We really are proud of you, Leila,” my mother continued. “You’ve accomplished so much, and we’re sorry we couldn’t be there to see it.”

Before I could respond, I heard my father’s voice in the background, sharp and insistent. “The meeting’s about to start, we need to go.”

My mother’s voice became hurried. “I’m so sorry, sweetie, we have to go. We’ll talk later, okay? We love you.”

“Love you too,” I whispered, but the line had already gone dead. I stared at the screen, feeling a familiar sense of abandonment wash over me. They couldn’t even spare a full minute on my graduation day. Not a real conversation, not a word of comfort—just a quick call before they were off to their next meeting.

I blinked back the tears that had been building up, refusing to let them fall. It wasn’t worth it. They weren’t worth it.

“Leila, are you okay?” Amara’s voice cut through the haze of my thoughts, grounding me in the present. I turned to see her standing beside me, her eyes filled with concern. She must have seen the call—seen the way my face fell as I listened to the all-too-familiar excuses.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Just... you know. The usual.”

Amara didn’t push for more. She didn’t need to. We’d been friends for so long, she already knew what I was going through. She had been there through all of it—the missed recitals, the forgotten birthdays, the empty seats at every important event. She knew, and she hated seeing me go through it over and over again.

“Come on,” she said gently, linking her arm with mine. “Let’s get out of here. Starlight Soiree is waiting, and we deserve to celebrate, right?”

I hesitated, glancing back at the now-emptying school grounds. Part of me wanted to just go home, crawl under my covers, and disappear from the world for a while. But what good would that do? It wouldn’t change anything, and it would only make me feel worse.

Amara squeezed my arm, pulling me back to the present. “Leila, this is our day. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

She was right. I knew she was right. I nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile creeping onto my face. “You’re right. Let’s go have some fun.”

As we walked away from the school, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows behind us, I tried to push aside the disappointment, the hurt, the loneliness that had followed me all day. Tonight, I wouldn’t think about my parents or the calls that always ended too soon. Tonight, I would focus on the excitement of being with my friends, on the thrill of the night ahead.

Starlight Soiree was the place to be after graduation. Everyone talked about it—how it was the best way to celebrate, the most fun you could have before the reality of life after high school set in. I’d been looking forward to it for weeks, and now, more than ever, I needed a distraction.

Amara kept up a steady stream of chatter as we walked, filling the silence with stories and jokes, trying to lift my spirits. I appreciated her efforts, even if my mind kept drifting back to the phone call, to the hollow feeling in my chest. But I pushed those thoughts away, focusing on Amara’s voice, on the excitement that was slowly beginning to build in the pit of my stomach.

By the time we reached Starlight Soiree, the sky had darkened, and the stars were beginning to twinkle overhead. The venue was alive with music and laughter, lights twinkling in the trees, and the scent of food and fresh flowers filling the air. It was like stepping into another world, a world where the pain of the day didn’t exist.

As we entered, I let the atmosphere wash over me, letting it dull the ache in my heart. Amara was right—this was our day, and I wasn’t going to let my parents’ absence ruin it. I was going to have fun tonight. I was going to celebrate my graduation, even if I had to do it without them.

For the first time that day, I felt a flicker of excitement, a spark of hope. Tonight was about me and Amara, about our friendship and our future. And as the music swelled around us, I made a promise to myself that I would make this night something worth remembering. Even if my parents couldn’t be there, even if they didn’t care—I would make it special, for me.

With Amara by my side, I knew I could do it.