ROOM 7
Chapter Twenty-Five: The Crash
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Thursday morning started like any other.
The sun rose over Manila. The city woke up. The room stirred. People stretched. Coffee brewed. David put out snacks. Mica and Calix started breakfast. Yuri complained about something. Care and Cole argued about something else. Freya took photos. Erdix helped. Ash sat with Lyra on the couch.
Lyra was on page 87 now. She'd turned forty pages since Tuesday. Not fast. But moving.
Ci N sat on his bed, notebook open, pen moving. He'd been counting since Alex left. Every hour. Every minute. Every second.
"14 hours, 23 minutes," he said to no one in particular. "Until 9:47 PM. Until he walks through the door."
Rakki looked at him from her bed. "You're going to say that every hour until he comes back?"
"Every hour. Every minute. Every second. I have a system."
She shook her head. Smiled. Went back to her book.
Jay was at the window. Keifer beside her. Coffee in her hands. Black. No sugar. The way he made it.
"You're staring at the street again," he said.
"I'm watching."
"He's not coming until tonight."
"I know."
"You're still watching."
She didn't answer. He didn't push.
---
Part One: The News
It came at 11:47 AM.
Lyra was on the couch. Book open. Page 87. Ci N was on his bed. Notebook open. Pen moving.
Yuri was on his phone. Scrolling. Lazy. Bored.
Then he stopped.
His face changed. The color drained. His hand tightened on the phone. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Yuri?" Mica looked up from the kitchen. "What's wrong?"
He didn't answer. He was staring at the screen. Reading. Rereading.
"Yuri."
He looked up. His face was white. His hands were shaking.
"There's been a plane crash."
The room went silent.
"A plane from London. It went down over the ocean. They don't know—" He stopped. Swallowed. "They don't know if there are survivors."
Lyra's book slipped from her hands.
Jay turned from the window. "What flight?"
Yuri looked at his phone. Read the number. The number that made Lyra's world stop.
"I don't know. They haven't released—"
"What flight?" Jay's voice was sharp.
Yuri read the number again. "Flight 417. From London to Manila. It went down at 10:23 AM."
Lyra stood up. Her legs were shaking. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking.
"Alex's flight was 417," she whispered.
The room was very quiet.
Yuri looked at his phone. Scrolled. "It says— it says the flight was scheduled to land at 9:47 PM. It says—" He stopped.
Lyra was already moving. Across the room. To her bed. To her phone. Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold it.
She dialed. Put it to her ear.
It rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
Voicemail.
She hung up. Dialed again. Rang. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail.
"He's not answering." Her voice was thin. Stretched. "He's not answering."
Jay walked to her. "Lyra—"
She dialed again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail. Again. Voicemail.
Her hands dropped. The phone fell. It hit the floor. The screen cracked.
She stood there. Empty. Still. Her hands at her sides. Her face blank. Her eyes wide.
"Lyra." Jay reached for her.
She stepped back. Shook her head. "He's not answering."
"Maybe his phone is off. Maybe he's—"
"His phone is never off." Her voice cracked. "He always answers. He always—" She stopped.
The room was silent. Sixteen people. Sixteen people who didn't know what to say. Sixteen people watching Lyra fall apart.
Ci N closed his notebook. Set it aside. Picked up his fox. Held it.
Rakki put her hand on his arm. "Ci N."
"Flight 417. London to Manila. Scheduled arrival 9:47 PM. He was on that flight." His voice was flat. Empty. "I calculated everything. The distance. The time. The hours. The minutes. The seconds. I calculated everything."
He looked at Lyra. At the way she was standing. Alone. Empty.
"I didn't calculate this."
---
Part Two: The Wait
The next hour was the longest of their lives.
Lyra sat on her bed. Phone in her hands. Cracked screen. Dead. She stared at it like it might ring. Like it might light up. Like it might tell her he was okay.
Jay sat beside her. Hand on her arm. Not talking. Not moving. Just there.
Yuri was on his phone. Scrolling. Reading. His face got worse with every update. He didn't share. He didn't need to. Everyone could see.
"Yuri," Mica said.
He shook his head. "They haven't found anything. They're searching. They don't know—" He stopped.
"They don't know what?"
He didn't answer.
Care was at the window. Staring at the street. Cole stood behind her. Hand on her shoulder.
"He was supposed to walk through that door," Care said. "9:47. He was supposed to walk through that door."
Cole pulled her closer. "He will."
"You don't know that."
"I know him." Cole's voice was steady. "He'll walk through that door."
Care didn't answer. She kept watching the street.
Freya had her camera. She wasn't taking photos. She was holding it. Like a shield. Like something to hold.
Erdix was beside her. "Freya."
"He's coming back." Her voice was flat. "He has to come back. I have photos. Of him. Of Lyra. Of the garden. Of the house. He has to come back to see them."
"He'll come back."
"He has to."
Ash was on the floor. Back against the wall. Knees pulled up. She wasn't crying. She was waiting.
David sat on his bed. Snacks untouched beside him. He wasn't eating. He never didn't eat.
Mica and Calix stood in the kitchen. Not cooking. Not moving. Just standing. Together.
Ci N hadn't moved from his bed. His notebook was closed. His pen was still. His fox was in his lap.
"I counted everything," he said quietly. "The distance. The time. The hours. The minutes. The seconds. I counted everything. I didn't count this."
Rakki sat beside him. Took his hand. "No one counted this."
"I should have. My brain works at one hundred sixty percent. I should have—"
"You couldn't have." She squeezed his hand. "No one could have."
He looked at Lyra. At the way she was holding her phone. At the way her hands were shaking. At the way she hadn't moved in an hour.
"He needs to come back," Ci N said. "I calculated 9:47 PM. He needs to come back at 9:47 PM."
Rakki held his hand. Didn't let go.
---
Part Three: The Cracks
Lyra hadn't cried.
That's what scared everyone the most. She sat on her bed. Phone in her hands. Face blank. Eyes dry. She hadn't moved. She hadn't spoken. She hadn't made a sound.
Jay watched her. "Lyra."
No response.
"Lyra. Talk to me."
She didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the phone. The cracked screen. The dead battery.
"Lyra, please."
"He always answers." Her voice was hollow. Empty. "I've called him a thousand times. A million times. Since we were kids. He always answers. Always. Even when he's busy. Even when he's tired. Even when he's in class. He always answers."
She looked at the phone. "He's not answering."
Jay took her hand. "There could be a hundred reasons. His phone could be dead. He could be in a place with no signal. He could—"
"His phone is never dead." Lyra's voice cracked. "He charges it every night. Every night. I know because I—" She stopped.
Her face crumpled.
Not the way it did before. Not the quick flash Jay saw on Tuesday. This was slow. Deep. The kind of crack that started at the surface and went all the way down.
"I know because I text him goodnight," she whispered. "Every night. For years. He always texts back. Always."
Her hands started shaking. Her shoulders started shaking. Her whole body started shaking.
"He didn't text last night."
The tears came.
Not quiet. Not controlled. The kind of crying that came from somewhere she'd been holding for years. Somewhere she didn't let anyone see.
She cried like a child. Loud. Broken. Her hands over her face. Her shoulders heaving. Her whole body folded into itself.
Jay pulled her close. Held her. Didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.
Lyra cried into her shoulder. Her hands grabbed Jay's shirt. Held on. Like she was drowning. Like Jay was the only thing keeping her from going under.
"He's not answering," she sobbed. "He's not answering. He's not answering. He's not—"
Jay held her tighter. "I know. I know. I know."
The room was silent except for Lyra's crying. Sixteen people. Sixteen people who didn't know what to do. Sixteen people who watched Lyra fall apart and couldn't fix it.
Care turned from the window. Her face was wet. Cole held her.
Yuri put his phone down. Stared at the wall.
Mica leaned into Calix. He held her.
Freya put her camera down. Erdix held her hand.
Ash was still on the floor. Still against the wall. Still waiting.
David sat on his bed. Snacks untouched. Watching the door.
Ci N watched Lyra. Her hands grabbing Jay's shirt. Her face buried in Jay's shoulder. Her whole body shaking.
He picked up his notebook. Opened it. Stared at the numbers.
"14 hours, 23 minutes," he said quietly. "That's what I said this morning. 14 hours, 23 minutes until 9:47 PM. Until he walks through the door."
He closed the notebook. Set it aside.
"That's what I calculated."
Rakki held his hand. He held hers.
---
Part Four: The Silence
The crying stopped after an hour.
Lyra sat on her bed. Face red. Eyes swollen. Hands empty. Jay's shirt was wet. Her own shirt was wet. She didn't notice.
She stared at the door.
Everyone stared at the door.
The news wasn't getting better. Yuri stopped checking. No one asked. They didn't want to know. They wanted to wait. They wanted the door to open. They wanted Alex to walk through it.
Care turned from the window. "There are no cars."
No one responded.
"Outside. There are no cars. Usually there are cars. Taxis. Delivery trucks. People coming and going. Now there's nothing."
She turned back to the window. Cole stood behind her.
Lyra didn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the door. The same door Alex had walked through a thousand times. The same door he was supposed to walk through at 9:47 PM.
She didn't look at the clock. She didn't need to. She knew what time it was. Every minute. Every second. She knew.
Ci N sat on his bed. Fox in his lap. He wasn't counting anymore. He didn't need to. Every second was the same. Every second was empty.
"He was supposed to be here," he said. "9:47 PM. He was supposed to be here."
Rakki touched his arm. He didn't look at her.
"His grandmother is in the hospital. His mother is waiting. His father is waiting. We're all waiting. He was supposed to be here."
He looked at Lyra. At the way she was staring at the door. At the way her hands were empty.
"He was supposed to be here."
---
Part Five: The Knock
It came at 4:23 PM.
A knock. Three times. Sharp. Clear.
Lyra didn't move. She was frozen. Staring at the door. Her hands were fists in her lap. Her face was white. Her eyes were wide.
No one moved.
The knock came again. Three times. Harder.
Yuri stood up. Walked to the door. His hand was on the handle. He looked at Lyra. She hadn't moved.
He opened the door.
It wasn't Alex.
It was a delivery man. Holding a box. "Package for Room 7."
Yuri took it. The man left. The door closed.
Yuri looked at the box. "It's for Alex."
Lyra's hands tightened.
Yuri set the box on Alex's desk. No one moved. No one spoke.
The box sat there. Brown. Plain. Addressed to Alex. From London.
Lyra stared at it. "From his mother."
No one responded.
"He told me. She sends him things. Books. Sweaters. Things he forgot." Her voice was hollow. "She sent it before. Before she knew. Before—"
She stopped.
The room was silent. The box sat on Alex's desk. Unopened. Waiting.
---
Part Six: The Door
The hours passed.
The sun moved across the floor. From the window to the beds to the door. The light changed. Gold to orange to red. The room was quiet. Too quiet.
Lyra hadn't moved from her bed. Her eyes hadn't left the door. Her hands were still fists in her lap.
Jay sat beside her. Hand on her arm. Not moving. Not leaving.
Care left the window. Sat on her bed. Cole beside her.
Yuri sat on his bed. Phone in his hands. Not looking at it.
Mica and Calix left the kitchen. Sat together. Hands intertwined.
Freya held her camera. Erdix held her hand.
Ash stayed on the floor. Back against the wall. Watching.
David sat on his bed. Snacks untouched.
Ci N sat on his bed. Fox in his lap. Notebook closed.
Rakki held his hand. He held hers.
They waited.
The sun set. The room got dark. No one turned on the lights. No one moved.
The clock on the wall ticked. 7:00. 8:00. 9:00.
Lyra hadn't moved.
9:30. Her hands were white. Her knuckles were sharp. Her face was empty.
9:40. She stopped breathing. Her chest was still. Her eyes were fixed.
9:45. Two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds. She counted them. Everyone counted them.
9:46. Sixty seconds.
9:47.
The door opened.
---
Part Seven: The Return
Alex walked in.
His bag was over his shoulder. His clothes were wrinkled. His hair was a mess. Dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. He looked like he hadn't slept in three days.
He looked like home.
He stopped in the doorway. Looked at the room. At the sixteen people. At the darkness. At the box on his desk. At Lyra.
"Lyra."
She didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't blink.
He stepped forward. "Lyra. I'm here."
She stood up. Her legs were shaking. Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was shaking.
"Lyra—"
She ran.
She crossed the room in seconds. Her arms went around his neck. Her face buried in his shoulder. Her whole body pressed against his.
She cried.
Not like before. Not quiet. Not broken. Loud. Hysterical. The kind of crying that came from somewhere deeper than words. Her hands grabbed his shirt. Held on. Her knees buckled. He caught her. Held her up. Held her together.
"I'm here," he said. "I'm here. I'm here."
She couldn't answer. She was crying too hard. Her whole body was shaking. Her voice was gone. All she could do was hold him. Hold him. Hold him.
His arms were around her. Tight. Solid. His face was in her hair. His eyes were closed. His hands were shaking too.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry. My phone died. At the airport. I couldn't charge it. I didn't know. I didn't—"
She shook her head. Her face was still buried in his shoulder. Her hands were still grabbing his shirt. She didn't care about the phone. She didn't care about anything. He was here. He was here. He was here.
He held her. Let her cry. Let her shake. Let her fall apart in his arms.
The room was silent. Sixteen people watching. Sixteen people who had been waiting. Sixteen people who could finally breathe.
Jay let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Keifer put his arm around her. She leaned into him.
Yuri wiped his eyes. "He's back."
"He's back," Mica said.
Yuri nodded. Didn't pretend his eyes were sweating. Didn't pretend anything.
Care was crying. Quiet tears. Cole held her.
Freya picked up her camera. Didn't take a photo. Just held it.
Ci N opened his notebook. Looked at the numbers. The hours. The minutes. The seconds. The calculations he'd made. The times he'd counted. The 9:47 he'd been waiting for.
He closed the notebook. Set it aside. Picked up his fox.
"He's back," he said quietly.
Rakki squeezed his hand. "He's back."
Ci N watched Lyra. The way she was holding Alex. The way he was holding her. The way neither of them was letting go.
"That's efficient," he said.
Rakki looked at him. "Ci N."
"He's back. At 9:47. Like I calculated."
She smiled. A real smile. "Like you calculated."
He nodded. Held his fox. Watched the door close.
---
Part Eight: The Night
They didn't let go.
Lyra's crying slowed. Stopped. Her hands were still on his shirt. His arms were still around her. Her face was still against his shoulder.
"Your phone," she said. Her voice was hoarse. Raw.
"It died. At the airport. I didn't have a charger. I didn't know—"
"You didn't call."
"I couldn't."
She looked up at him. Her face was swollen. Her eyes were red. Her nose was running. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
"I thought you were gone," she said.
He looked at her. "I'm not gone."
"I thought—" She stopped. Swallowed. "I thought you were gone."
He pulled her closer. "I'm here. I'm here. I'm here."
She closed her eyes. Let him hold her. Let him say it again and again.
The room was quiet. People were moving now. Yuri turned on the lights. Mica went to the kitchen. Calix followed. Care sat on her bed. Cole beside her. Freya put her camera away. Erdix helped. Ash stood up. Walked to her bed. Sat down. David picked up his snacks. Started eating.
Ci N sat on his bed. Notebook open. Pen moving.
"3 days. 72 hours. 4,320 minutes. 259,200 seconds." He wrote it all down. Then he closed the book. Put it away.
"9:47 PM," he said. "Like I calculated."
Rakki smiled. "Like you calculated."
He picked up his fox. Held it. Watched Alex and Lyra. They were still standing in the middle of the room. Still holding each other. Still not letting go.
"They're going to be okay," he said.
Rakki looked at him. "How do you know?"
He looked at his notebook. At the closed cover. At the numbers inside. All the hours. All the minutes. All the seconds.
"Because he came back," he said. "At 9:47. Like I calculated. He came back."
Rakki kissed his cheek. "You helped."
He looked at Lyra. At the way her hands were still on Alex's shirt. At the way his arms were still around her. At the way neither of them was moving.
"That's acceptable," he said.
---
End of Chapter Twenty-Five