Jukai

chapter 2

New Orleans

Nicole

After cleaning my home and leaving a letter behind, I sat for a long moment, staring at the paper like it might somehow explain everything I couldn't say out loud. I prayed—if there was a God—for mercy. That if someone found me, they'd lay me beside my parents and Jacob, where I belonged.

Everything at the church was handled. Miss Dorothy would know what to do—everything had been left in her name, paid off, neat and tidy like I was trying to make sense of the chaos in my head.

What was left of me went to Amber and Benjamin—my last ties to a life that felt like it ended long ago.

It had already been three years since I lost Jacob to a drunk driver, and then just like that, my father was diagnosed with cancer. We tried everything—chemo, specialists from Louisiana to New York, even holistic medicine. Some days gave us hope, others just took more from us. I could see it in him—how tired he was. The way his strong frame wasted away to skin and bone. A hundred pounds of quiet goodbye.

And still, I wasn't ready.

I begged for more time. Cried through the nights. Prayed for a miracle that never came. He was the last person I had. When he went, it felt like the world shut off its light.

Why was I still here?

Breathing felt like punishment. Eating, sleeping—it all meant nothing. If there was a God, why was He so cruel? Why take everything I ever loved and leave me with nothing?

I grabbed my backpack and car keys. It would take a while before anyone noticed I was gone—if they ever did.

Rain poured like the sky had broken open. My truck rattled down the old dirt road, tires slipping across the mud as if even the earth wanted me to turn back.

Then came the sound—that sharp, violent crack of thunder right above me. The truck groaned, shuddered, then died completely.

I cursed under my breath and stepped into the rain, instantly soaked to the skin. Smoke poured from under the hood, a ghost rising in the storm. I didn't care anymore.

And that's when headlights appeared.

Bright. Blinding. Familiar.

I froze.

The truck skidded to a stop, inches from where I stood.

"Nicole, what the hell were you thinking?!" Terry's voice tore through the storm, sharp and angry, like lightning had found its voice.

I couldn't speak.

He slammed his door and stormed toward me, soaked and fuming. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I'm sorry," I whispered, stepping back.

Rain fell harder. It was the only sound for a long moment as our eyes locked.

"Maybe if you weren't speeding like a damn maniac, you would've seen me!" I snapped suddenly, anger rising like floodwater.

"I'm not doing this here, not in this storm," he growled, turning back toward his truck.

I walked to mine, trying to fix it myself. The heat under the hood was too much. I slammed it shut, jaw clenched tight.

Terry drove past me, and I just stood there in the rain.

Alone.

Again.

Terry Richmond

My phone rang, and the screen lit up with Mama. I answered right away.

"Terry, have you made it home yet?" she asked, her voice lined with worry.

"Hey, Mama. Not yet. What's going on at home?" I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. Nicole's truck was still visible through the storm, parked on the side of the road like a ghost refusing to disappear.

"Thanks to you boys, everything's going smoothly," she said, her tone softening with pride. But then, it shifted. "Sweetheart, could you do me a favor and swing by Pastor Michael's house? I haven't seen Nicole lately. She usually stops by the store, but it's been almost a week."

I took a deep breath, my jaw tightening. I hadn't told Mama I just passed Nicole on the road.

"Mama, I'm not sure that's the best idea," I said, the hesitation in my voice giving me away.

"Terry Richmond," she snapped, her voice sharpening like a slap on the wrist. "I know you two have your mess, but that girl's father just died. Show some compassion."

I sighed, guilt washing over me. "Mama... she's not home. I saw her truck just now."

A pause.

"You what? Did you stop? Which way was she headed? Terry, is she okay?" Her voice rose, alarm creeping in now.

I rubbed a hand down my face. "I don't know. I just... I kept driving."

"Terry Richmond!" she barked. "If you don't turn that truck around and go check on that girl, this storm won't be your biggest problem!"

I rolled my eyes, but of course, she felt it through the phone.

"Roll your eyes again and I promise you, we will have a problem."

I knew she meant it.

"Fine, Mama," I muttered, turning the wheel with a resigned huff. I circled back toward the place I'd seen Nicole, but her truck lights were gone now—swallowed by the rain and the dark. My stomach dropped. I pressed down on the gas.

I had to find her.