"I'm the reason you've never belonged here."
His words didn't leave me.
Even after I turned away from him…
Even after my feet carried me away from the river…
Even when the distance between us grew—
They stayed.
I didn't remember deciding to leave.
One moment I was standing there, caught in his eyes, in his presence… in something I didn't understand.
The next—
I was walking.
Fast.
Like if I didn't, I would lose myself completely.
The path home felt different.
Too quiet.
Too long.
Every step echoed with the sound of his voice in my head.
I've been waiting for you.
You heard the call.
I'm the reason…
"Stop it," I muttered, pressing my fingers lightly against my temple.
"This doesn't make any sense…"
But that was the problem.
It did.
In a way I couldn't explain.
The wind brushed past me again.
Gentle this time.
Almost comforting.
And suddenly…
I didn't feel alone on the path.
I slowed down.
My eyes drifting to the tall grass beside me.
It swayed softly, following the wind—
But something about it felt familiar.
Like I had walked this path before…
Not just today.
But years ago.
Back when things were different.
Back when I had a home that felt like mine.
I don't remember when I started living with my aunt.
Not exactly.
The memory is blurred, like something my mind refuses to hold onto for too long.
But I remember before.
I remember my mother's voice.
Soft.
Calm.
Always calling my name like it meant more than just a word.
"Baby…"
The way she said it made everything feel safe.
I remember my father's laughter.
Loud. Free. Alive.
He used to tell me stories while the sun was setting, his voice full of wonder.
"There's more to this world than what people see," he would say, tapping lightly against my forehead. "And one day… you'll understand that better than anyone."
I never knew what he meant.
Not then.
My steps slowed.
The memory tightening something in my chest.
The day I lost them… didn't feel real.
It still doesn't.
There was a storm.
I remember that much.
The wind was stronger than anything I had ever seen. It howled like it was angry… like it was searching for something.
Or someone.
My father hadn't come home.
That was the first thing that felt wrong.
My mother tried to hide it—but I saw it in her eyes.
Fear.
Then came the knock on the door.
I stopped walking.
My breath catching slightly as the memory pressed harder.
I never saw who was there.
I only remember my mother telling me to stay inside.
I remember her voice—not soft this time.
Firm.
Urgent.
And then…
Everything broke apart.
Voices.
Not familiar.
Not kind.
The door opening.
The wind rushing in—
And then…
Nothing.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep walking.
The path was almost ending now. My aunt's house wasn't far.
I woke up there the next day.
Confused.
Alone.
"Where's my mom?" I had asked.
My aunt didn't answer immediately.
She just looked at me… like she was deciding something.
Then she sighed.
"They're gone, Baby."
Gone.
That word again.
No explanation.
No details.
Just… gone.
I clenched my hands slightly.
Even now, it didn't feel right.
It never had.
"They wouldn't leave me," I whispered under my breath as I stepped closer to the house.
"They wouldn't just disappear…"
The wind picked up again.
Soft.
Careful.
Like it was listening.
That's when I felt it.
The necklace around my neck—warming slightly against my skin.
I froze.
My fingers slowly lifting to touch it.
It had always been simple.
Small.
Just something my mother gave me before everything changed.
But now…
It felt different.
"…Why now?" I murmured.
And then his voice echoed in my mind again.
You heard the call.
My heart started to race.
This wasn't just about the river.
It wasn't just about him.
It was connected.
All of it.
The wind.
The whispers.
My parents.
Me.
I reached the door of my aunt's house, my hand hovering just before I pushed it open.
For the first time in years…
I didn't feel like I was just living here.
I felt like I had been placed here.
Hidden.
And if that was true—
Then what exactly had my parents been trying to protect me from?
Or worse…
What were they trying to protect the world from?