Weight of The Untold

Chapter 1

I just can't stand to see you leaving
But heaven couldn't wait for you
No heaven couldn't wait for you
Heaven couldn't wait for you
No, heaven couldn't wait for you
So go on, go home.

Beyonce - Heaven

...

Kyla’s POV

“Kyla! You’re back!”

That voice.

I would recognize it anywhere.

Hannah.

“Yeah,” I muttered, adjusting the strap of my backpack as if it weighed more than it should. “Rose begged me to return. Said missing the exams I worked so hard for would be… unforgivable.”

“It still would’ve made sense if you took more time to heal,” Hannah said gently.

She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me.

I didn’t hug back.

I just leaned my head against her shoulder and let myself stay there until she pulled away on her own. I wasn’t in the mood for embraces. I wasn’t in the mood for sympathy, or comfort, or questions disguised as concern.

After you bury your parents, even love feels… hollow.

If it weren’t for Rose reminding me—every single day—that Mom and Dad would hate knowing I gave up on my future, I wouldn’t even be standing here. I’d still be hiding in the quiet rooms of the house, where their voices echoed louder than the silence.

Hannah and I had only been friends for less than a year, but she felt… solid. Real. Her family moved to New York last summer, and somehow, on her very first day riding the minibus, I was the first person she spoke to. Most people either stared too long or stayed too far away. Being a “celebrity kid” did that. Hannah never cared. She laughed easily, spoke honestly—and after my parents died, she never let me sit alone in the dark.

“Look who decided to come back.”

That deep voice pulled a smile from me before I could stop it.

Alec.

Sweet, charming Alec. We’d been friends since middle school interview day. He was taller now, broader too, shoulders filling out his hoodie. Black hair falling into his eyes like it had no intention of behaving. And those emerald-brown eyes—warm in a way that felt dangerous when you were already broken.

“Not even a hug?” he teased, arms spreading wide.

I rolled my eyes, then gave in.

His chest was solid, warm, grounding—like gravity reminding me I still existed.

“Okay,” I mumbled against him, “gonna pass out if you don’t let go.”

He laughed, loosening his grip, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry. Guess I missed you more than I realized.”

He missed me.

Well… of course he did. We’re friends.

(Yes, Kyla. And he said it out loud.)

That was Emma—my inner voice. The uninvited roommate in my head who never shuts up and definitely doesn’t pay rent.

“Hey, Kyla.”

Leo stepped into view, calm as always. The one boy who never made things complicated. More brother than anything else. Protective, steady—the kind of person who made you believe the world wasn’t completely falling apart.