Morning came quietly. Not peacefully, just quietly.
The house felt wrong without Miles in it. His shoes still sat near the doorway. His charger still hung loosely beside the couch outlet. One of his hoodies had been left draped over the staircase railing days ago, and nobody had moved it. Mallory stood in the kitchen, staring at a bowl of cereal long after it had gone soggy.
She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again. Miles yelling, Richard grabbing his arm. That look on his face after the comparison to Susan, the woman who used to be their mother. Then the bedroom door slamming shut. The cold silence that followed, the kind of silence that only exists after something irreversible has already happened. Behind her, the soft sound of footsteps.
Richard. He looked older this morning, not physically. Just… worn down in a way that didn't fit him. He stopped near the counter, saying nothing at first. Mallory didn't look at him. Neither of them knew how. Finally, Richard spoke. "…Did the police call back?". Mallory shook her head, saying "No.". "They checked the station cameras," Richard said quietly. "They saw him board the train.". Mallory's spoon slipped from her hand into the bowl with a soft clink.
Mary sat in the living room nearby, holding Martin against her chest. She looked exhausted, eyes swollen from crying, but she kept gently rocking him anyway. Like routine could somehow stop the world from collapsing. "…Where did he go?" she asked softly. Richard hesitated, then answered. "Woodsburg.". The room went still. Mallory finally looked up. Her face immediately twisted with guilt, as she whispers "Oh my God…". Mary closed her eyes. Richard rubbed a hand over his face, exhaling shakily. "I shouldn't have said it," he muttered. He continues "I shouldn't have brought Susan up, especially like that..". No one answered him, because there wasn't really anything to say.
Elsewhere, Naya stared at the message on her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. The screen had already dimmed twice. She still hadn't deleted it.
Outside her classroom window, rainwater slid slowly down the glass in crooked trails. Students talked around her. Chairs scraped, someone laughed. It all sounded so distant. Like she was underwater. "…Naya?", someone asks. She jolted slightly. Her teacher stood beside her desk now. "You okay?", the teacher asks. Naya blinked once before nodding automatically, saying "Yeah. Sorry.". But her grip around her phone tightened. Because she knew something nobody else did. Miles hadn't just disappeared, he said goodbye.
That thought had been eating at her all night. The message replayed in her head over and over. "Please. Don't call anyone tonight." And she didn't. Because some part of her thought maybe if she respected what he wanted, maybe he'd still come back in the morning. But morning came anyway, and he didn't.
Lunch break. Naya sat alone on the school rooftop, knees pulled loosely against her chest. The wind was cold today, she barely noticed. Her phone rested beside her. Still open to the message. The rooftop door creaked open behind her. It's Mallory. Naya immediately stood up, saying "Mallory—", as she wipes her eyes. But Mallory walked straight toward her and hugged her before she could finish. Desperately. Naya froze in shock. Then slowly hugged her back.
Mallory's voice cracked first as she spoke "…I messed up.". Naya's eyes widened slightly. Mallory pulled away, wiping at her face quickly like she hated being seen crying. "I thought I was helping him," she said shakily. "I thought if I told mom and dad, maybe we could stop this before he ruined his life." Naya stayed quiet. Mallory laughed weakly through tears "But all I did was make him leave.". "No," Naya said immediately. Mallory looked up at her, as she said "You didn't make him leave.". Mallory's expression twisted.
"I saw him that day," she whispered. "With Chelsea." Naya's stomach tightened slightly at the name. Not jealousy, not anymore. Mallory continued. "And the way he looked at her…" she muttered. "I think he already made his choice before any of us realized." Naya looked down at the rooftop floor. The wind blew strands of hair across her face. "…He looked at me like that once," she said quietly.
Mallory's expression softened immediately. Naya smiled faintly. "A long time ago.". Then Mallory asked the question she'd clearly been avoiding. "…Do you think he's okay?". Naya looked at the message again, at the final line. "I'm not letting it stop me.". Her chest tightened painfully. "…I don't know," she admitted.
That evening, Richard stood alone in Miles' bedroom. The room still smelled faintly like detergent, paper, and that lingering scent from Chelsea's coat that never fully disappeared. He stared at the empty space near the window. Then slowly sat on the edge of the bed. The silence here felt different. Closer, like the room itself remembered every argument. Richard looked toward the desk and saw it.
A crumpled piece of notebook paper near the trash bin. He picked it up carefully. It wasn't a letter, just messy writing. Half-finished thoughts. Names, crossed-out sentences. One line scribbled over repeatedly, but still visible.
"I fear the people I love the most.."
Richard stared at the sentence for a long time. Then quietly lowered himself forward, elbows against his knees, and cried. Not loudly, not dramatically. Just the kind of crying that comes from realizing you hurt someone before understanding how badly they were already hurting. Miles' phone number was disconnected by morning. Shane found that out first. He never actually left. He stood outside the hospital vending machine when the automated voice finally said "This number is no longer in service."
He lowered the phone slowly. Anny sat nearby in her wheelchair, watching him carefully. "…He's gone, isn't he?" she asked softly. Shane didn't answer immediately. Then finally, he said "…Yeah.". Anny looked down at the blanket over her legs. Neither of them spoke for a while. Finally, Shane muttered bitterly "Of course the idiot disappears right when I was finally gonna talk to him honestly.". Anny glanced at him. "You cared about him a lot.". Shane scoffed weakly. "…Still do.". That answer came too fast to be fake. Anny smiled faintly. "Then.. why did you tell him you'd leave?", she asks. Shane looks down at his bus ticket. Never used. "I just.. needed to clear my head..".
And somewhere far away from all of them, Miles sat near Chelsea's apartment window, watching unfamiliar rain fall over Woodsburg. Not knowing how many people were still thinking about him at that exact moment.