Finding Us (Christian Interracial Romance)

When the Silence Breaks

Jeremy

The late afternoon sun pours through my bedroom window like God's reminder that there's still light in this world. I sit cross-legged on my childhood bed, laptop propped on my knees, scrolling through job listings like my life depends on it—which, I guess, it sort of does.

"Creative strategist... requires Adobe Suite mastery. Pass."

I rub my temples. The house is too quiet—Mom's and Mrs. Evans are having lunch my Aunt Barbara's house and Dad's probably grilling someone's soul over a numbers spreadsheet in the den. The Miller household runs on schedule, faith, chatter, and decaf.

It's been eight months since I moved back home. Eight months since I walked away from the brutal mess of New York, Hannah, and every role that threatened to swallow me whole. The Murder Diaries had its last breath in 2021 and ever since, I've been done pretending I could play darkness without it seeping into my skin.

I've started praying more. Talking to Drew whenever I want to get some stuff off my chest and reading the Scripture with a highlighter like it's a script written just for me.

The verse from this morning's reading is still echoing in my head:

"He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake." – Psalm 23:3

I want to believe that. I want to live that.

I shoot off two more applications—one to a faith-based production firm that creates uplifting documentaries, and one to a nonprofit media group in Echo Park that helps at-risk youth make their own short films.

A knock at my door.

"Come in."

Ellie pokes her head in, all curls and attitude. "Are you going to eat or just pray about it?"

I laugh. "I'll be down in five."

She closes the door with a smirk. God bless her.

I click over to my Gmail, refresh. No replies. Still nothing from the places I really hoped would bite. Just more spam from casting agencies and my former manager's tone-deaf newsletters.

I'm just about to shut my laptop when a ping hits from YouTube from my phone.

New Video from Stella & Reagan TV SPECIAL GUEST: Cecilia Evans talks faith, fame, and freedom

My heart does this weird double thump. This must be the podcast Cecilia did with her cousins that she told me about. 

I hover my cursor over the thumbnail. The preview shows her in an exact outfit I remember her wearing when she came over to wish my parents happy anniversary two days ago— black graphic tee with the Thriller album cover, her hair silk pressed and glowing, but her eyes are looking tired, but focused. Stella sits on one side, Reagan on the other. It's filmed in someone's living room. Casual, honest.

I hesitate, but then I click.

The video opens with the girls introducing the show.

There's a quiet strength in her posture I haven't seen in a long time.

Reagan smiles warmly. "Today, we have a very special guest—our cousin, Cecilia Evans. She's here to talk about her experiences in the music industry, her struggles with mental health, and the journey that's brought her to this point. Cecilia, thank you so much for joining us."

"Thank you for having me," Cecilia says, her voice low, a little shaky. She's nervous.

I lean in instinctively.