Chapter 20 – When the Sky Held Its Breath
That afternoon, the sun hung high above Black Rock Orphanage, casting golden light across the courtyard.
The air was warm — the kind of warmth that made the stone walls shimmer and the grass smell sweet.
Laughter echoed between the buildings as children played soccer barefoot, their shouts rising above the hum of the city beyond the southern wall.
The ball — worn, patched, and treasured — rolled wildly across the yard.
Joshua darted after it, his feet kicking up dust, his hair clinging damp to his forehead.
For once, he was like every other child — smiling, running, free.
There was a lightness in him, something that made even the air around him seem alive.
From a distance, Madam Page watched, her laundry basket balanced carefully on her hip.
The corners of her lips curved into a soft smile as she leaned against the doorway.
The boy she'd carried through storms and shadows was laughing now — a sound so pure it almost made her forget the weight of his secret.
Then, for a fleeting heartbeat, his laughter stopped.
Joshua turned his head — as though he'd heard a voice no one else could hear.
Their eyes met.
And for the briefest instant, Page saw it —
a faint shimmer in his gaze.
Something ancient.
Something vast — like light trapped beneath the surface of calm water.
A presence that didn't belong to a child.
She blinked, her heart tightening.
And just like that, the moment was gone.
Joshua laughed again, chasing after the ball as if nothing had happened.
Page let out a quiet sigh. She dismissed it as a figment of her imagination and turned toward the backyard, humming softly as she set the laundry down by the stone basin.
The sound of rushing water mixed with the children's laughter — a gentle rhythm that filled the quiet corners of her heart.
For once, it felt like peace.
---
Five minutes later, the peace shattered.
A scream cut through the air —
high-pitched, terrified.
"Madam Page! It's Joshua!"
The old woman froze. The bar of soap slipped from her fingers and fell into the water with a splash.
She turned — and saw a young girl running toward her, eyes wide, hair tangled by the wind.
"What about him?" Page asked, her voice already trembling.
The girl stammered, breath hitching.
"The ball hit his head — he fell! He's not waking up!"
The words struck harder than any blow.
Without thinking, Page dropped everything and ran.
Her slippers slapped against the wet stone, her heart pounding like war drums.
Past the backyard gate, through the narrow corridor, out into the bright courtyard —
And there he was.
Joshua lay in the dirt, motionless.
Children crowded around him in a tight circle, their faces pale with fear.
The ball sat nearby, half-deflated, forgotten.
"Move! Let me through!"
The children stepped back instantly as Page pushed her way forward.
She dropped to her knees beside him, hands trembling as she touched his face.
"Joshua?" she whispered. "Joshua, can you hear me?"
No answer.
His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell faintly, like he was only asleep — but there was something strange in the stillness.
The air felt heavy as everyone stood in worry.
A child who had never experienced illness or bled was now unconscious.
"Please, child… wake up," she murmured, her voice breaking.
Nothing.
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