The Cross Over (Silent Moments Series: Book 7)

Chapter 2

 Murphy, always quick to react, expressed his shock and irritation. "Hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of surprise and anger. "What the hell is your problem?"

The question hung in the air, and all eyes turned to Jackson, who was visibly shaken, his usual stoic facade crumbling. It was clear that something was deeply troubling him, something beyond the ordinary frustrations of our difficult life in Sanctum. The atmosphere around the picnic blanket had shifted dramatically. The casual camaraderie of moments ago was replaced by a palpable tension. We all knew that Jackson's outburst wasn't just about a spilled drink; it was the release of pent-up emotions, perhaps related to the overwhelming events of the past days. As Murphy waited for an answer, Jackson's struggle to compose himself was evident. His hands trembled slightly, and his jaw was clenched, a clear sign of the internal turmoil he was experiencing.

In that moment, it became clear that each of us was dealing with our own battles, our own griefs and traumas. Jackson's reaction was a stark reminder of the emotional toll that life in Sanctum, with all its challenges and losses, had taken on us all. The rest of us exchanged glances, a wordless understanding passing between us. It was a moment to offer support, to be there for one another, as we had been through so much together. In the midst of our efforts to rebuild and find peace, we were also healing, and that process was neither linear nor easy. As I looked at Jackson, a wave of empathy washed over me. I knew all too well the struggle of keeping emotions bottled up, the effort it took to appear strong when inside, we were anything but. In our own ways, we were all grappling with the aftermath of our experiences, trying to find our footing in a world that had been forever changed.

Jackson's apology came out as a faint, choked utterance, his eyes brimming with tears. The pain and anger in his voice were palpable. "I'm sorry," he said, his words trembling. "I'm not just gonna sit here while he drinks to the woman he got killed."

His accusation hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the complex web of guilt, blame, and loss that enveloped us all. I found myself turning away, unable to bear the weight of the moment. With my eyes closed, I sought a brief refuge in the darkness behind my eyelids. This was all too much. Murphy, visibly shaken by Jackson's words, turned to me, his expression filled with regret and a plea for understanding. "I didn't know what Russell was going to do," he said earnestly, his gaze fixed on me. "Ok, I—Kegan, you have to believe me. I didn't know."

I knew I had to intervene, to prevent the conversation from spiraling into further accusations and hurt. "I believe you," I responded quickly, my voice cutting through the tension. I wanted to put an end to the blame game, to focus on what was important. "Dwelling on the past is not going to get this compound running and it won't get our compound built."

As I spoke, Raven's hand found mine, her touch a source of comfort and solidarity. I took a deep breath, feeling her support, and tried to calm the turmoil inside me. The situation was delicate, and it required a careful balance between acknowledging our pain and moving forward. The air around the picnic blanket was still charged with emotion, but my words seemed to have a grounding effect. It was a reminder that while we couldn't change the past, we had the power to shape our future. We needed to focus on rebuilding, on creating a new life in Sanctum, one that honored those we had lost but also looked ahead. In that moment, with Raven's hand in mine, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. We had all been through so much, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges, but together, we could overcome them. We could build a home here, not just for ourselves, but for everyone who had put their trust in us. The journey ahead would require patience, understanding, and a lot of hard work, but as long as we stood together, we had a chance to make something meaningful out of the chaos and loss. It was time to heal, to rebuild, and to forge a new path in Sanctum.