Shadow of Resistance

Chapter Thirty Four

I see Sarah as she walks into the camp. At first, I can't believe my eyes, but then I realise it really is her. Her gorgeous face and glowing brown hair. A surge of happiness fills my heart as I pick myself up and run toward her. As I get closer, I notice the sadness and exhaustion etched on her face. She's walking with her head down, carrying a big backpack and holding bags in her hands.

"Sarah!" I shout, sprinting through the camp.

She looks up, and the moment she sees me, she drops everything and runs toward me. We collide in a tight embrace, holding each other as if we can't believe we're actually here. Tears well up in my eyes, a mix of relief and overwhelming joy.

"I thought..." she begins, her voice breaking as she starts to sob. "When you didn't pick up, I thought you were dead."

I gently cradle her head, threading my fingers through her smooth hair, and rub my thumb softly against her head. "It's okay, I'm here," I whisper, trying to soothe her.

Her grip on me tightens as her sobs intensify, and I can feel the weight of everything she's been through, all the suffering she hasn't yet spoken of, pouring out in her tears.

I gently pull away and wipe her tears with my thumbs. Seeing her face with red, swollen eyes crushes my heart. "I'm so sorry I didn't answer when you called that first day. I've been trying to reach you ever since, but your phone was unreachable," I explain.

"When the apartment was hit, we grabbed few things and ran to the street."she says, her voice still shaky. "I forgot my phone there and never went back, and had to buy a new one."

My concern deepens as I ask, "Where are your parents? Are they okay?"

"Yes, yes, they're fine. Don't worry," she reassures me. "We just decided to split up to find a place for our tent. Where is your family? I can't see any of them."

"Omar is in the tent just over there," I say, pointing in the direction of our tent. "The girls just ran off a minute ago to look for wooden sticks."

She nods, then asks softly, "And your mother?"

A wave of sorrow washes over me. "She died on the first day of war. When I left you and ran to her, she was under the rubble. But... at least I got to say goodbye." I drop my gaze to the ground, trying to hide my emotions.

Sarah squeezes my hand gently. "I'm sorry, I didn't...."

Before she can finish, I lift my head and force a smile. "It's okay," I say, my voice steadier now. "I'm better now."

I notice her parents approaching behind her. With a quick smile, I walk over to greet them warmly. Then I show them an empty space for their tent that is near ours. I help them set the tent while talking with them and catching up on everything.

They tell me how they found refuge in another school when their building was hit. They stayed there longer than we did, trying to hold out until the bombing became too intense, and too close. That's when they decided to evacuate to the south, like we did.

It was a great coincidence that they came to the same camp we are sheltering in.

After helping set up the tent, Sarah and I take a walk through the camp, catching up as we go. The heaviness of the past few days feels lighter with her beside me. As we walk, the girls come running toward us, their faces lit up with excitement. "We got the sticks!" they shout, waving their finds in the air.

Sarah opens her arms wide, and they rush into her embrace, wrapping their small arms around her tightly.

"We're going to build kites," I tell her, grinning. "Want to join?"

"Oh! That sounds fun, but I have no idea how to make one," she admits with a smile.

"No worries," I reply. "I'll teach you all."

We sit down in a circle on the sandy ground, and Omar joins us. Each of them starts working on their own kite under my guidance. Soon enough, we have several colourful kites ready to go. We take them out into the open, letting them soar into the sky. Watching them dance in the wind is mesmerising, a brief escape from the harsh realities around us.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go," Sarah whispers, handing me the string of her kite.

"Where are you going?" I ask, taking the string from her.

"They called me on my new number. There's been a bombing nearby, and I need to cover it," she replies casually.

"You're heading to a site that was just bombed?" I ask, my voice filled with concern.

"Yes, it's my job," she says, shrugging slightly.

"No, you are not going anywhere" I respond immediately, with a serious tone. "It's too dangerous, Sarah."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" she shouts, her voice rising with frustration. "This is my job, and I'm not going to stop doing it!"

"I said it's dangerous! What can't you understand?" I shout back, my voice just as loud.

"What do you want me to do? Just stand by while they destroy our land and kill our people?" Her voice falters, and she looks at me with a mix of hurt and disbelief. "Since when have you been so negative?"

Her words hit me deep, shaking me to the core. She's right. Have I become a negative person like my father? I've always hated his negativity, so how could I end up the same way? Is it the time I spent in prison, or is it the weight of responsibility I feel for everyone I care about?

I gently take her hand, looking into her eyes. "I'm just worried about you," I say softly, the tension in my voice easing. "But you're right. You have to do your job."

"Thank you," she replies, her face lighting up with a smile.

"But please take care of yourself and wear all your press protection." I add, my voice filled with concern,

"I promise I will," she says, her smile widening as she turns and runs off. I watch her go, my heart torn between pride and worry.