Whispers of the Lost

Chapter 35 : Fractured Courage

Blaze didn't come out of the guest room for most of the day. The room itself was modest, filled with spare furniture and faded wallpaper, a space we usually reserved for family visiting during the holidays. Now it felt like it had absorbed all the heaviness of the night before. Every time I walked past the door, I hesitated, wanting to knock, to say something—but I didn't. He needed time, and I didn't want to intrude.

Still, the silence gnawed at me.

I spent the morning trying to keep busy. I helped Grandma Evelyn fold laundry, even though I was terrible at it and she had to redo half of my work. I took Cody for a walk around the backyard, hoping it would settle the restless energy buzzing under my skin, but even that didn't help. All I could think about was Blaze—how broken he'd looked, how raw his voice had sounded when he told me he was scared.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I couldn't stand it anymore. I stopped outside the guest room door, my hand hovering over the wood. Cody sat at my feet, watching me expectantly, his tail wagging slowly as if to encourage me. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly.

"Blaze?" I called, keeping my voice soft. "It's me."

For a moment, there was no response. Then I heard a muffled, "Come in."

I pushed the door open carefully, peeking inside. The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dim despite the sunlight outside. Blaze was sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He looked up as I entered, his eyes bloodshot and tired.

"Hey," I said, stepping inside. "How are you feeling?"

He shrugged, avoiding my gaze. "I'm fine."

It was a lie, and we both knew it. I sat down in the chair across from him, leaning forward slightly. "You don't have to say that," I told him gently. "Not with me."

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "What else am I supposed to say? That I feel like crap? That I don't know how to face another day without falling apart? What's the point, Mia?"

My chest tightened at the hopelessness in his voice. "The point is that you're here," I said. "And that means there's still a chance to make things better. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually."

He glanced at me then, his expression unreadable. "You really think that?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "I do."

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then he ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. "Your family's probably sick of me already," he muttered. "I should just go."

"No." The word came out sharper than I intended, and he flinched slightly. I softened my tone, leaning closer. "You're not a burden, Blaze. My family wants to help you. I want to help you."

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But instead, he just nodded, his shoulders sagging. "Okay," he said quietly.

Later that evening, we found ourselves in the backyard again. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth, and the stars glittered above us like tiny pinpricks of light. Blaze leaned against the wooden fence, his hands shoved into the pockets of his borrowed sweatshirt. Cody lay nearby, his ears twitching as he listened to the sounds of the night.

"You ever think about running away?" Blaze asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?"

He tilted his head back, staring up at the sky. "Just... packing up and leaving everything behind. Starting over somewhere else."

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. "I've thought about it," I admitted. "When things feel too overwhelming. But I always end up realizing that running away doesn't fix anything. It just... delays it."

Blaze let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe delaying it is all I can hope for."

"That's not true," I said firmly. "You're stronger than you think, Blaze. You've already made it this far."

He turned to look at me, his eyes shadowed. "And what if I can't keep going?"

My throat tightened, but I refused to let the fear in his voice break me. "Then I'll be here to help you," I said. "You're not alone anymore."

He didn't respond, but his gaze softened slightly, and I took it as a small victory.

The next morning, I found Blaze sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a cup of coffee my dad must have made for him. He looked like he hadn't slept much, dark circles shadowing his eyes, but there was a flicker of life in him that hadn't been there the day before.

"Morning," I said, sliding into the chair across from him.

"Morning," he replied, his voice hoarse.

We sat in silence for a while, the only sound the occasional clink of his spoon against the mug. Finally, I broke the quiet. "Blaze, if there's anything you need—anything at all—just tell me, okay?"

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. "Why are you doing this?" he asked softly. "Why do you care so much?"

The question caught me off guard, but I didn't hesitate. "Because you matter," I said simply. "And I'm not going to let you fall apart without a fight."

Something flickered in his eyes—something I couldn't quite name. He nodded slowly, as if he was finally beginning to believe me. "Thanks, Mia," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You don't have to thank me," I said. "Just... promise me you'll try. Even if it's hard."

"I'll try," he said after a long pause. "I can't promise I'll be good at it, but I'll try."

And for now, that was enough.