Chapter 30: The Door That Stayed Closed

Some places remember you.

Even after you've stopped remembering yourself.

The old building stood exactly where I'd left it.

Burned.

Broken.

Silent.

The caution tape had faded from bright yellow to a tired shade of gray.

Nature had slowly started reclaiming what the fire had abandoned.

Tiny weeds pushed through cracks in the sidewalk.

Vines crept up one corner of the brick wall.

Time...

Never asked permission.

I unfolded my small camping stool across the street.

Set down my backpack.

Pulled out my sketchbook.

Then...

The old pencil.

I rolled it gently between my fingers.

"Alright..."

I whispered.

"...let's try again."

Cars came and went.

A cyclist passed.

Someone walked a dog.

The city continued living around the building as though nothing important had ever happened there.

I lowered the pencil to the paper.

This time...

I wasn't drawing the fire.

I wasn't drawing smoke.

I wasn't drawing loss.

I was simply drawing...

A house.

Maybe that's what healing looked like.

Not forgetting.

Just remembering differently.

Almost an hour passed before I finally leaned back.

My shoulders ached.

My fingers were covered in graphite.

I smiled.

Then...

Something caught my eye.

The front door.

Every window had been shattered.

The roof had partially collapsed.

The front porch had burned away.

But the front door...

Was still closed.

Not hanging open.

Not broken.

Closed.

I frowned.

"That's..."

Strange.

I sketched it carefully.

Every scratch.

Every hinge.

Every shadow.

Then packed my things.

Maybe...

There was a reasonable explanation.

Maybe.

Later that afternoon...

Luna arrived at my apartment carrying iced coffees.

"I come bearing peace..."

She held one cup in each hand.

"...and caramel."

"You know me too well."

"I absolutely do."

She kicked off her sandals and collapsed onto my couch.

"My feet officially quit."

"You walked here?"

"I got distracted."

"Doing what?"

"I found a bookstore."

"Of course you did."

"And..."

She grinned.

"...I bought another novel."

"You have a problem."

"I have hobbies."

While she talked...

Her phone buzzed.

She barely looked at it.

Instead...

She tossed it onto the couch between us.

"I'll answer later."

I nodded.

We continued laughing about something Ruth had said the week before.

Without thinking...

I reached for Luna's phone.

Only to move it so it wouldn't fall.

The screen lit up.

One message.

Just one.

Sinnad

Ight... see you soon.

My smile disappeared.

For a second...

Everything around me became strangely quiet.

The laughter.

The traffic outside.

Even Luna's voice.

I wasn't hearing any of it anymore.

Only...

Those four words.

See you soon.

I looked toward Luna.

She was still talking.

Completely unaware.

"...and then Ruth said—"

Ruth?

My eyes returned to the phone.

Maybe...

No.

Maybe not.

Why...

Would Sinnad be texting Luna?

Why hadn't he mentioned seeing her?

Why hadn't she?

I gently placed the phone exactly where it had been.

Screen down.

My chest suddenly felt...

Heavy.

"You okay?"

Luna looked at me.

"Hm?"

"You got quiet."

I forced a smile.

"Just tired."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

She believed me.

Or maybe...

She chose to.

That evening...

My phone buzzed.

Sinnad

How'd the sketch go?

I stared at the message.

Didn't answer.

A minute later...

Another one.

Did you figure anything out about the door?

I locked my phone.

Face down.

Across town...

Inside Imani Barbershop...

Sinnad frowned at his own phone.

Ruth looked up while sweeping.

"She answer?"

"No."

"That's weird."

He nodded.

"Yeah."

He tried calling.

Straight to voicemail.

"Huh."

He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Maybe she's busy."

Neither of them had the slightest idea...

That somewhere across the city...

One unfinished conversation...

Had already begun changing everything.