Micah didn’t go home that night.
Instead, he sat under the cedar tree long after the buses had emptied the streets, Evan’s message burning in his pocket like a live wire.
I brought trouble home.
He stared at the words again — then locked his phone.
This was exactly what he had promised to avoid.
Footsteps scuffed behind him.
“Elara?”
He stood fast, heart stalling.
She stepped into the fading lamplight, breathing hard — jacket half-zipped, hair loose like she had run there without stopping.
“You didn’t text back,” she said. “So I followed the pattern.”
Micah swore under his breath. “Elara, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Funny,” she replied, planting herself in front of him. “That’s exactly what I thought about you.”
He looked away. “Evan’s in trouble.”
“Again?”
He nodded.
“And you think you can fix it alone?” she asked.
“I think this mess shouldn’t touch you.”
She moved closer.
“Micah, I don’t belong on a shelf while you try to save broken people.”
The words hit harder than she meant them to — but they rang true.
He met her gaze at last.
“You don’t understand what he pulls me into.”
“Then let me understand,” she said. “Because standing outside the storm doesn’t keep you dry — it just makes you watch someone drown.”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, he exhaled.
“They were hanging around the old warehouse — the guys Evan used to run with. He wants me to come talk sense into them.”
Elara’s stomach dropped.
“That place is dangerous.”
“I know.”
She didn’t hesitate. “Then we don’t go alone.”
“You’re not coming,” he said sharply — then softened. “I won’t let you.”
Her voice shook — but didn’t bend.
“You don’t get to decide where I stand.”
The words echoed her earlier vow.
Micah closed his eyes.
Then — slowly — reached for her hand.
“Okay,” he whispered. “But you stay behind me.”
---
Metal creaked when they pushed the side door open.
Inside smelled like oil and rust. Flickering bulbs cut pale shadows across concrete floors and graffiti-stained walls.
Evan stood near a boarded window, flanked by two men Elara vaguely recognized from town — faces that always hovered just outside the line of trouble.
“You took your time,” Evan remarked.
Micah stepped forward. “Let’s end this. Whatever it is.”
One of the men scoffed. “He borrowed cash — didn’t pay. Now he wants family mercy.”
Micah turned on Evan. “You said you needed a place to sleep — not protection.”
Evan avoided his gaze.
“It wasn’t that simple.”
Elara spoke up then, voice steady despite the fear slamming in her chest.
“What do you want from him?”
The taller man eyed her dangerously. “Nothing from you.”
Micah shifted — subtly but unmistakably — placing himself in front of her.
“I’ll cover what he owes,” Micah said.
Evan spun. “You don’t have that kind of money.”
“I’ll find a way.”
“That’s not solving anything,” Elara said. “That just trades one chain for another.”
The men murmured.
The tension felt like live wire stretched too tight.
Then sirens wailed.
None of them had expected it.
One of the men cursed. “Someone called the cops!”
Eyes swung toward Elara.
Fear sliced through Micah’s chest.
“I swear—” she began.
Micah cut in instantly. “She wouldn’t.”
The men bolted toward the open back door.
Evan froze.
“Move!” Micah shouted — yanking his brother aside just as red-blue lights washed across cracked windows.
Boots thundered closer.
Evan stumbled, then tore free — taking off into the shadows.
Micah didn’t chase him.
He ran to Elara instead.
Pulled her close.
“You okay?”
She nodded against his chest, shaking.
Police voices echoed — sharp and commanding.
Micah gripped her tighter, relief and fear colliding in his ribs.
This time, running was the only safe option.
They slipped out through a hidden exit before officers cut across the floor.
---
They didn’t stop until they reached the cedar tree.
Breathless.
Silent.
Shaken.
Elara laughed first — a thin, trembling sound.
“Well… that escalated.”
Micah looked at her — really looked — adrenaline still racing — and something unravelled completely.
Without thinking, he cupped her face and kissed her.
Not soft.
Not careful.
A desperate, real kiss — meant to anchor them both in the fact that they were still here.
She kissed him back — heart pounding — all doubt swept aside.
When they pulled apart, foreheads resting together, the world finally quieted.
“I almost lost you,” he whispered.
“You didn’t,” she replied. “You chose me.”
---
Later, after walking her home, Micah texted Evan once.
Micah: Fix your life. I can’t fix it for you anymore.
The reply came an hour later:
Evan: You just drew a line you might regret.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
✨ "When the Light Returns" ✨
Espiritual🌙 PROLOGUE At 17 years old, Elara James believed God lived in the space between her heartbeat and her breath. She felt Him when her mother hummed hymns in the kitchen, when sunlight broke through storm clouds, and when she whispered bedtime prayers...
