REKINDLED || Completed

25

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Twenty Five
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SOMETHING FELT OFF.

Oren lifted his head from his guitar again, sweeping his gaze across the quiet park. The golden hues of the setting sun stretched long shadows across the pavement, but the unease curling in his chest had nothing to do with the dimming light.

"Are you okay?" The little girl beside him, Penny, peered up with wide eyes, her fingers still fiddling with the hem of her dress.

He forced a smile. "Yeah."

But the truth sat heavy in his gut.

Oren shut his eyes for a moment and murmured a silent prayer.

Lord, what is this feeling?

A chill prickled at his skin. It was as if something was about to happen, something just beyond his grasp.

"Lord, what are You trying to tell me?" He whispered under his breath.

Just then, a Wellington’s Candy truck rumbled past on the road, its logo bright and garish against the fading sky.

A jar of jellybeans was painted on the side.

Jellybeans.

Beans.

His stomach clenched.

"Wellington’s is back in business? No way!" Penny suddenly shot up to her feet, breaking his trance. "Thanks, Oren! For the prayer."

He blinked, nodding absently. "You're welcome, Penny. Don't forget the show on Friday."

"Of course! My friends and I are coming!" she chirped before dashing off.

As soon as she disappeared, the weight in his chest pressed harder.

The feeling hadn’t left.

If anything, it had gotten worse.

I should call Jaden and Everest.

His fingers twitched toward his pocket, but he hesitated.

Jaden was doing fine at work. Everest, too.

So why did it still feel like something was wrong?

Exhaling, he packed up his guitar and stood.

Maybe he just needed a walk.

The town was alive as usual—neighbors waving, voices drifting in and out of conversation, some people pausing to compliment his music.

But the unease stayed.

And when the café came into view, something nudged at the back of his mind.

Harry.

Oren pushed through the doors, the scent of brewed coffee instantly filling his senses. The bell above chimed softly.

"Son! I'm glad you visited. What do I get you?"

Harry stood behind the counter, his smile as warm as ever.

"Water, actually."

A slight frown creased the older man's forehead. "You alright, son?"

Oren exhaled, raking a hand through his hair.

"I feel… uneasy about something."

Harry studied him for a moment. "How long?"

"Since this afternoon. It feels like—" Oren hesitated, pressing a palm over his chest. "—like the Lord is trying to tell me something. But I don’t know what."

Harry hummed thoughtfully, tapping a knuckle against the counter. "Have you prayed on it?"

"Every second." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "It gets heavier by the minute, like someone’s in trouble."

Harry’s face turned solemn. Slowly, he reached out, squeezing Oren’s hand.

"Lord, give us Your peace. Don’t let anyone get hurt."

"Amen."

---

Asher stepped off the bus and immediately felt the absence of something—something small, yet crucial.

Her heart sank.

Her wallet.

The last ten bucks she had.

A sigh left her lips, but she forced herself to keep moving, hugging her arms against the slight chill in the air.

She wove seamlessly into the crowd, head down, feet moving on instinct. Her mind buzzed, her thoughts tangled into a haze.

She just needed to get to her safe haven.

Her legs wobbled beneath her, exhaustion creeping in.

She sucked in a breath and glanced toward the crosswalk.

The light was still red.

Good.

She’d wait, cross safely, and keep moving.

"Olivia!"

She froze.

The world seemed to tilt.

Her name—that name—rang through the air, slicing straight through the numbing fog in her mind.

Slowly, hesitantly, she turned her head, scanning the sea of pedestrians.

And then—

She saw him.

No…

Her stomach plummeted.

It couldn’t be.

He stood there, his silhouette just slightly blurred by distance, but she knew that stance, that face.

His lips curled into a crooked smile.

He lifted a hand in a casual wave.

Asher barely heard the blaring honks behind her.

Her breath stilled.

Her pulse hammered so hard it nearly hurt.

Move.

Her brain screamed at her, but her legs wouldn’t.

Move, Asher!

Her body finally obeyed—just barely—her nerves springing to life, her muscles snapping into action as she lurched forward.

But it was too late.

She barely had time to register the headlights flooding her vision before an unforgiving force slammed into her.

Air rushed past her ears.

The world spun.

Pain—searing, all-consuming—shot through her body as she crashed against the asphalt, her skull cracking against the cold, unforgiving ground.

She tasted copper.

Distantly, she could hear gasps. Shouts.

The world around her blurred at the edges, darkening—

She caught a glimpse of figures rushing toward her, their faces twisted in alarm.

The pavement beneath her head felt wet.

Her body refused to move.

She managed a weak cough.

And then—

Everything went black.

***

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Kairos