The Moon Shines when the Sun Isn't Around

Part 41

Weeks passed, and life began to settle into a fragile routine. Raina had fully recovered, her strength returning bit by bit. King, still as protective as ever, refused to let her drive, insisting on being the one to chauffeur her in his armored electric truck. Their evenings were often spent together—dinner at the table, light conversations, and the occasional competitive round of Xbox. The console King had gifted her during her recovery had become a symbol of their closeness, a reminder of how much he cared, even though he often masked his emotions behind his laid-back demeanor.

But as time moved on, something dark began to brew beneath the surface. King was no stranger to loss, but nothing could prepare him for what was about to happen.

It began with a phone call late one night. His uncle, a man who had always been there for him, a guiding figure through the ups and downs of his life, was found murdered. The shock of it hit King hard, like a blow to the chest that knocked the air out of his lungs. For a moment, he could hardly process what he was hearing.

"King... your uncle... he's gone," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "They found him in his car. Shot dead."

King's heart sank, the words echoing in his head. Shot dead. His hands trembled, and he had to sit down, the weight of it all pulling him down into the chair. He had always known the world was cruel, had seen the darkness in it, but this? This felt like a punch that had come out of nowhere, a reminder that life could be ripped away without warning, without reason.

He hung up the phone without saying much, his mind spinning in a haze of disbelief. He felt numb, like the world around him had faded into the background, leaving only the emptiness of his loss.

But the nightmare didn't end there.

Only days later, King received more devastating news: his cousin, the son of his murdered uncle, had taken his own life. It was too much for him to bear, they said. The grief had been too heavy, the pain too deep, and in a moment of hopelessness, he had ended it all.

The news broke something inside King.

He had already been grappling with his uncle's murder, struggling to find some sense of meaning in the senseless violence. But now, with his cousin gone too, the weight of it all became unbearable. It felt like the universe was cruelly stripping away the people he loved, leaving him more isolated and broken than ever before.

No one seemed to be able to reach him. Not Raina, not Oreo, not his closest friends. It was like he had fallen into a pit of darkness so deep that no amount of light could touch him. He stopped talking about his feelings, stopped trying to express the anger, the hurt, the confusion that swirled within him. He just... shut down.

Raina noticed it first. She watched as her twin brother, who had been so strong for her during her recovery, now began to crumble. He stopped cooking, stopped smiling, and would often retreat to his room, staying there for hours on end without saying a word. It worried her—terrified her, even—but every time she tried to talk to him, he brushed her off.

"You okay?" she asked one evening, standing in the doorway of his room, watching him stare blankly at the TV screen.

"Yeah," he muttered, not taking his eyes off the game. His voice was flat, distant, as if the words had no meaning.

She stepped closer, her heart heavy with concern. "King, you haven't been yourself lately. You can talk to me, you know that, right?"

He didn't respond immediately. His hands gripped the controller tightly, but he didn't make a move in the game. Eventually, he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "There's nothing to talk about, Rai. I'm fine."