Chasing Shadows

Chapter Forty: Shadows of the Past

Jonah lingered in the doorway of the training room, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched Ethan place a comforting hand on Asher’s shoulder. He could see the tension in Asher’s frame ease just a little, the worry lines on his face softening in the presence of his best friend. It was moments like this that made all the chaos and danger of their lives feel worthwhile—the moments when they reminded each other that they weren’t alone.

He let out a quiet breath, turning away and slipping silently into the shadows of the hallway. The sound of their voices faded behind him, but the warmth of their bond stayed with him, a reminder of what it felt like to belong somewhere.

“Guess you guys don’t need me tonight,” he murmured to himself, his lips curving into a small, wistful smile. There was no bitterness in his tone, only a quiet acceptance. Asher and Ethan had a bond that went back years, rooted in a shared history that Jonah couldn’t touch. He was okay with that. Happy for them, even.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Jonah started walking down the deserted streets, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The city was quieter at this hour, the usual bustle and noise replaced by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional bark of a stray dog. A light drizzle began to fall, tiny droplets sparkling under the streetlights like shards of glass.

Jonah pulled up the hood of his jacket, his gaze wandering aimlessly as he walked. He wasn’t heading anywhere in particular, just letting his feet carry him wherever they wanted. It was a habit he’d picked up long ago—wandering, drifting. It helped clear his mind, made it easier to sort through the tangled mess of thoughts and memories that always seemed to be lurking just beneath the surface.

Tonight, though, his thoughts kept circling back to one thing: belonging. Watching Ethan and Asher together, seeing the unspoken understanding between them, Jonah couldn’t help but feel a pang of something deep in his chest. It wasn’t jealousy, not really. It was more like…

Longing.

It was stupid, he knew. He had a place on the team now, a purpose. They trusted him, relied on him. But some part of him—some stubborn, insecure part—still wondered if he truly belonged. If he’d ever be more than just the thief they’d decided to give a second chance to.

“Stop thinking like that,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to clear away the doubts. But they clung to him, persistent and unyielding, refusing to be banished so easily.

His feet carried him further, through narrow alleyways and down winding streets, until he found himself in a familiar neighborhood. He slowed to a stop, glancing around as the memories surged forward, unbidden and overwhelming.

This was where he’d grown up. The cramped, bustling streets filled with voices and laughter, the smell of street food wafting through the air. He could almost hear the echoes of his siblings’ laughter, the way they used to run up and down these same sidewalks, playing tag and yelling at each other over silly games.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him.

Jonah had been the middle child in a family of six. The one who often got lost in the chaos, overshadowed by his louder, more attention-grabbing siblings. His older brothers had been the achievers—the ones who excelled in sports and academics, earning praise and admiration from everyone around them. His younger sisters were the sweet, adorable ones, always doted on and spoiled.

And then there was Jonah. Quiet, reserved, fading into the background.

When his powers had manifested in his early teens, they had seemed like a cruel joke. Invisibility. The perfect metaphor for how he felt in his own family: unseen, unnoticed. He hadn’t told anyone at first, hadn’t known how. What did you say to your parents when you woke up one day and realized you could disappear?

For a while, he’d used his powers just to escape—slipping away from family dinners, vanishing during awkward school events. It had been liberating, in a way. A chance to carve out a little space for himself in a world that seemed too big, too overwhelming.

But then he’d wanted more.

He still remembered the first time he’d used his powers to steal. It had been so easy, slipping in and out of stores without a trace. He hadn’t wanted the things he took—not really. He just wanted to prove something. Prove that he existed. That he could do something no one else could.

And for a while, it had worked. The thrill of it, the rush—it made him feel alive, made him feel like he mattered. But that feeling never lasted. No matter how many times he slipped past security, no matter how many times he outsmarted the guards and the cameras, the emptiness always crept back in, gnawing at him.

Until the day he’d gone too far.

He could still remember the look on her face. Her—the one person who had seen him, really seen him, when no one else did. She had been beautiful in a quiet, unassuming way, with a smile that made his chest tighten and a laugh that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds.

She had been his anchor, his friend, the one who made him believe—if only for a little while—that he could be more than just a thief, more than just a shadow.

But she’d chosen the wrong person to love. A cruel, manipulative man who had used her, hurt her. Jonah had tried to protect her, to be there for her. But it hadn’t been enough. In the end, she’d stayed with him, despite everything. Jonah never understood why—why good people sometimes clung to the very things that were destroying them.

He’d tried to talk to her, to get her to leave. But she’d just smiled, her eyes filled with a sad, distant sort of resignation.

“It’s not your job to save me, Jonah,” she’d said softly, her voice a whisper in the dark. “You can’t fix everything.”

And then she was gone. Taken from him in a single, brutal moment of violence that shattered his world.

He never forgave himself for not being there. For not being able to protect her when it really mattered.

“Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?” he’d asked himself over and over, a bitter mantra that echoed in his mind long after she was gone.

After that, stealing lost its allure. The thrill felt hollow, empty. He stopped, drifting aimlessly, not sure what he was looking for. Until the hero network found him, saw potential where he’d seen only failure. They’d offered him a chance to use his powers for good, to become something more.

He’d accepted, though the decision hadn’t been an easy one. Part of him still felt like a fraud, like he was pretending to be something he wasn’t. But for the first time in a long time, he had a purpose. A place to be.

But sometimes, in the quiet moments when the memories crept back in, he wondered if he really deserved it.

Jonah glanced up at the familiar street, his chest tightening. He could almost see her standing there, smiling at him, telling him not to worry so much. Telling him that he didn’t have to be perfect. That it was okay to just… be.

“Sorry, I couldn’t save you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the rain. “I hope… I hope you’re somewhere better now.”

The wind picked up, carrying his words away, and Jonah took a deep breath, letting the pain ebb away, bit by bit. He turned away from the street, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets as he started walking again.

He wasn’t that scared, invisible kid anymore. He wasn’t the lost, grieving friend who couldn’t figure out why the world was so unfair.

He was Jonah. A member of the team. A hero, in his own way.

And for now, that was enough.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Jonah vanished into the shadows, leaving the past behind him as he stepped forward into the uncertain future, determined to make his own path—one step at a time.