ON THE JOURNEY
The bus ride was silent — only the steady hum of the engine and the soft whisper of the air conditioner filled the air.
Laura said little, and Justin was no different. She knew he wasn't the talkative type. If someone stayed quiet, he could be twice as quiet.
Laura leaned her head against the window, her eyes following the ever-changing view outside — the rows of trees, the blur of distant towns, the faint shimmer of dawn light stretching across the highway.
It was her first time traveling alone with a boy.
Everything felt strange… unfamiliar.
But her gaze was empty — her mind drifted elsewhere.
To Halen's face.
To that night.
To everything she wished she could undo… yet never could.
She drew in a slow breath.
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"I heard from Cass," Justin's voice was low, almost drowned out by the soft rumble of the bus. "You've already learned about the connection between you, her, and Rachel."
Laura didn't answer right away. Her eyes stayed fixed on the window."What good does it do me to know all that?" she said at last, her tone flat but heavy with emotion. "If all it does is weigh me down. Knowing doesn't bring peace… it only hurts."
Justin nodded slowly, his gaze falling to the floor.
"But Laura… Cass and Rachel aren't as cruel as you think. Yes, at school, they used to bully Sandra. But outside of it…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Outside, they actually helped her. A lot."
Laura turned toward him, a faint frown creasing her forehead. "Helped her? How?"
"You know Sandra lives with her aunt, right?"
"Yes. Her aunt works an ordinary job."
Justin nodded again. "And with that kind of pay, sometimes they struggle. Sometimes there's barely enough to eat. Sandra never told you — she was ashamed. But Cass and Rachel knew… and quietly, they helped."
Tears began to gather at the corners of Laura's eyes.
"Then why didn't she ask me for help?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"I don't know," Justin replied softly, his eyes gentle on her. "Maybe… she thought you only cared about her at school. And when the bell rang, that friendship ended there."
Laura lowered her head. The first tear finally fell, sliding down her cheek.
She lifted her bag quickly, trying to hide her face now streaked with sorrow.
Justin's hand twitched — as if to comfort her — but stopped halfway in the air.
Hearing his words, Laura realized something she had never wanted to admit — how narrow her view of the world had been all along.
Her bond with Sandra… wasn't as close as she thought. There had always been a distance, one she never noticed.
She remembered — during lunch breaks, Sandra would sometimes just sit and watch without buying anything. Laura thought she simply wasn't hungry. But maybe… she couldn't afford to be.
And after school, Laura often saw Sandra walking home alone by the roadside.
She could've stopped, offered her a ride — but for some reason, she always looked away.
Maybe because she was in a hurry.
Maybe because she pretended not to see.
Now, every memory returned — small, but sharp.
And with every memory that resurfaced, it pierced her a little deeper — until her chest felt tight with pain.
Justin said nothing. He simply let Laura cry.
No words left his lips — only a quiet, understanding gaze. He knew that sometimes, silence could do far more than a thousand words of comfort.
Laura wiped her tears with the edge of her sleeve. The air between them was filled with the soft hum of the bus tires rolling over the road. Quiet — but not empty. It was a silence heavy with things neither of them could say aloud.
Throughout the journey, both of them spoke little.
A touch of awkwardness lingered, yes — but that was the truth of it.
Two people with no real bond, sitting side by side, on a journey that felt far too long.
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Throughout the ride, the bus stopped only once — at a small rest area along the highway.
Passengers stepped out to buy food and drinks, while others stretched their legs. Laura bought herself a cup of hot coffee and a piece of bread, just enough to fill the emptiness in her stomach since morning.
Not long after, she returned to her seat.
Her eyes grew heavy, and eventually sleep won. Her head slowly tilted to the side, resting against Justin's shoulder. The boy glanced at her briefly but didn't move. He let her be — perhaps because, for the first time, Laura looked truly at peace.
Six hours later, the bus finally came to a halt.
Through the window, Laura could see a large sign that read Lowndes County — part of the region often called the Golden Triangle of Mississippi.
The bus came to a full stop at the city's main terminal.
Laura slowly opened her eyes, realizing her head was still resting on Justin's shoulder. She quickly lifted it and wiped her face, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Justin gave a faint smile. "We're here," he said softly.
Laura tightened her grip on her bag strap. Her heartbeat quickened.
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to fall asleep," she murmured, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"It's fine, Laura," Justin replied gently. "Come on, let's get off."
Laura nodded, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear before standing. They stepped off the bus, into the heat of the city. Outside, the air was heavier, buzzing with the noise of engines, cab drivers shouting for customers, and the restless hum of passengers coming and going.
Buses from all directions arrived and departed, carrying faces that blurred into the motion of the crowd — strangers, each lost in their own purpose.
Laura glanced around, trying to adjust to the rhythm of this unfamiliar city.
"We'll need to take a cab to get to Halen's house," said Justin as he stepped down the last step.
"Is it far?"
"Pretty far. Halen's place is on the outskirts. If I'm not mistaken… about a thirty-minute drive from here."
"That's quite far," Laura remarked, glancing sideways at him. "How did you get there before?"
Justin shrugged lightly, smiling. "My car."
Laura shot him a playful look. "Oh right, I forgot you actually have a car."
Justin chuckled, his tone light — as if trying to dissolve the heaviness that had lingered between them. "Come on," he said, nodding toward the line of taxis by the curb.
Laura pulled her bag along, following his lead.
She didn't know why, but each step forward seemed to weigh more than the last.
They had no trouble finding a ride — several drivers were already queued, waiting for passengers outside the terminal. Justin hailed a faded yellow taxi, and the two of them climbed inside.
The drive to Halen's house took nearly half an hour. Along the way, the busy streets gradually faded into quieter scenery. The shops became fewer, replaced by stretches of wooden houses and towering trees arching over the narrow road.
"Stop right up there," Justin said suddenly, just as the taxi entered a more secluded residential area.
The driver nodded. The taxi slowed to a stop at the side of the road.
"Where's the house?" Laura asked, glancing out the window.
"Up ahead," Justin replied quietly, his tone cautious. "It's better if we get off here."
Laura opened the door and stepped out first. The air felt thick — humid and heavy, as though it carried something strange, unseen.
Before they could walk any farther, Laura turned to him with a faint frown. "Why did you pay for the ride?"
Justin raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Isn't that fine? We were both in the same cab."
"I know…" Laura sighed, shaking her head lightly. "Fine then. I'll pay when we go back."
"Deal," Justin said simply, his smile never fading.
Laura turned her gaze forward. "So… which one is Halen's house?"
"That one." Justin pointed toward a small house at the end of the road — its brown roof faded and the walls worn by time, half-hidden behind thick trees that veiled it in shadow.
Laura stared at it for a long moment.
Something inside her shifted — a subtle, almost physical pressure, pulling between curiosity and fear.
The sky was beginning to dim, a thin haze rolling in from the distance.
And all at once… the neighborhood fell silent.
Too silent.
Unnaturally still — as if even the wind refused to move.
Laura looked around, squinting under the glare of the midday sun.
"All these houses have fences… how am I supposed to see her?"
"Just follow me. Come on," Justin replied, his voice calm but steady.
They walked along the quiet pavement. The neighborhood felt peaceful — rows of two-storey houses stood neatly side by side, separated by low fences and small leafy trees that shaded each yard. Occasionally, the chirp of birds or the distant hum of traffic broke the stillness.
When they reached a house with a brown roof at the end of the street, Justin stopped.
The place looked well-kept; fresh flowers bloomed in pots by the fence, white curtains covered half the window.
Ordinary — yet Laura felt a strange heaviness settle in her chest.
"This way," Justin murmured, stepping toward the shade of a large tree outside the fence.
They waited there in silence.
"Look over there," Justin said softly.
Laura turned — and instantly covered her mouth. Her breath caught.
A young woman in a wheelchair was being gently pushed out onto the porch. Another woman, perhaps her caretaker, adjusted a wide hat over her head.
"Halen…" Laura's voice trembled.
"At this time of day, she usually sits outside," Justin said quietly, his gaze following the girl — a look filled with something tender, and a sorrow that never quite faded.
Laura couldn't find her voice.
Even from a distance, Halen's face was clear enough — the scars that traced along her cheeks, one eye sealed shut by thickened skin, her nose no longer in its proper shape, and lips drawn tight as if burned long ago.
"Oh no…" Laura whispered, her body trembling. Tears spilled freely, unbidden.
Justin exhaled slowly, his tone heavy with quiet sorrow.
"You already know, don't you… Halen suffered severe burns over her whole body. It took her years to recover. Since that incident… she's never gone back to school, Laura."
Laura lowered her head, her voice breaking.
"She looks… so broken."
"Yes," Justin replied softly. "But she's still fighting to live. It's just that the world doesn't look at her the same way anymore."
Laura clutched the edge of her shirt tightly.
"No wonder Cass didn't let me see her…"
Her voice trembled, eyes red and glistening. The tears she had been holding back finally broke free.
"I… I never thought she'd end up like that."
Justin let out a slow breath. "Don't misunderstand, Laura. To this day, Halen still doesn't know that any of this started because of you."
Laura froze. "What do you mean?"
"Cass just didn't want you to break down. That's all. She thought if you knew the truth about Halen's condition, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself."
"But it is my fault, Justin…" Her voice cracked, raw with guilt. "Even if I carry this guilt until I die, I deserve it."
"Laura," Justin said gently but firmly, "what's done is done. You can't change the past."
Laura shook her head, tears streaming freely now. "I want to see her… I need to apologize. Just once, Justin—please."
"Don't, Laura." Justin's eyes met hers, steady and grave. "If you go now, you'll only hurt her again. Halen's parents… they're still searching for the person who caused it."
Laura's strength gave out. She fell to her knees, the world blurring through her tears. Her breaths came short and broken.
Justin almost stepped forward to comfort her. His hand lifted slightly—but he quickly pulled it back. There was hesitation in his eyes, afraid it might be misunderstood.
He simply stood beside her, letting Laura cry until there were no tears left. The midday breeze brushed gently against her hair, and in the distance, a woman was seen wheeling Halen's chair back into the house.
Justin turned his gaze slowly. "Laura… I think we should go now."
There was no answer. Laura kept her head down, her shoulders trembling with silent sobs.
"Laura…" Justin called again, this time softer.
Slowly, Laura lifted her tear-streaked face. Her eyes were swollen, vacant. Justin reached into his pocket and handed her a small handkerchief.
"Wipe your tears. Don't let anyone see you like this."
Laura accepted it wordlessly, her fingers trembling slightly. As she wiped her cheeks, her voice came out low and hoarse, almost a whisper.
"She… she didn't deserve to suffer like that, Justin. All of it happened because of me…"
Justin didn't respond. His silence carried a weight of understanding and quiet sympathy.
"I… I swear," Laura's voice shook, her body trembling faintly. "One day, I'll come back here. I'll tell them everything… everything I did."
Her sobs broke loose — raw, unrestrained, echoing in the still air. Justin could only watch, unable to speak. Laura's words carried the weight of a promise — one torn straight from the deepest wound in her heart.
Even though she had only seen Halen from afar, the image alone shattered something inside her. The girl who once smiled so easily, whose laughter used to fill their days, was now confined to a wheelchair — silent, fragile, almost unrecognizable.
Laura clutched the hem of her shirt, her lips trembling. "She didn't deserve this… it's all because of me," she whispered, her voice so faint it almost disappeared into the wind.
Justin lowered his gaze, letting the heavy stillness of the midday air swallow the space between them.
On their way back to the bus station, neither of them spoke. Laura walked in silence, her face pale, her eyes swollen, her steps slow and hollow. Justin stayed beside her, wordless — he knew no comfort could ever quiet a guilt like hers.
When they finally reached the station and boarded the bus to Little Britain, Laura sat by the window without a word. Her reflection looked distant — like someone trying to disappear inside herself.
A few minutes later, her body slumped gently to the side. She had fallen asleep — not out of peace, but from the exhaustion of carrying a burden far too heavy for someone her age.
Justin turned to her, studying her face for a moment. Then he took a slow, quiet breath and leaned back against his seat.
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"Laura…"
A faint voice called out to her.
Laura opened her eyes — and her chest rose sharply, breath catching.
She was no longer on the bus. Instead, she was standing in the middle of a roaring crowd — people shouting, shoving, pointing, screaming in a language she didn't understand.
"Where… where am I?"
Her breathing quickened. She spun left, then right — everything around her looked strange. Men and women dressed in heavy fabrics, headscarves, long robes, leather boots.
The air smelled of smoke and damp earth. From somewhere far off came the clashing sound of metal striking metal.
Then, cutting through the chaos, came a scream.
"Lâchez-moi! Lâchez-moi!" — Let me go! Let me go!
It was a woman's voice — hoarse, thick with terror.
Laura turned sharply, searching for the source. But bodies pressed against her on all sides, pushing, shouting. She forced her way forward, elbowing through the crowd, until she reached the front.
And then she froze.
"Oh no…" Her lips trembled, voice barely audible.
A woman with silver-white hair was being dragged by several burly men. Her wrists were bound tightly, her face bruised — yet her eyes still burned, fierce and alive, holding something deeper than fear.
"That's… that's her," Laura whispered, horror flooding her. "That's the woman from my dream last night!"
No one heard her. The crowd only roared louder — some hurling stones, others spitting curses in a tongue half-familiar to her ears.
The woman was dragged to the center of the square, where a tall wooden stake stood waiting.
Laura's body trembled. Her legs refused to move. "Don't…" she whispered, but her voice vanished beneath the crowd's furious chants.
She could only watch as one of the men lifted a torch — the fire flared bright, hissing as it caught the wind.
The silver-haired woman twisted in the men's grip, then suddenly turned — her gaze locking onto Laura's.
Time stopped. The world around them seemed to shatter into silence.
Then the woman spoke — softly, yet her words rang clear, echoing inside Laura's mind as if cutting through the very air between worlds.
"La vérité te trouvera, ma fille."
The truth will find you, my child.
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"Laura!"
Laura jolted upright, shoulders tensed. Her breath came in sharp gasps, cold sweat beading across her forehead. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, before realizing — she was still on the bus.
"Are you okay, Laura?" Justin's voice carried a note of concern.
Laura turned slightly. Her face was pale, eyes still clouded with confusion. "I… I must've been dreaming."
"What kind of dream?"
Their eyes met for a moment — Justin's calm gaze seemed to reach into her, searching quietly. For some reason, her chest tightened. She quickly turned her face toward the window.
"Nothing," she murmured, her voice trembling just a little.
Justin didn't press further. He gave a faint smile and leaned back in his seat. "We'll be there in about half an hour. Oh — your phone rang while you were asleep."
Laura nodded absently, her eyes still fixed on the scenery outside. Her mind was a tangled mess — caught somewhere between that strange dream and the uneasy feeling that always surfaced whenever Justin looked at her that way.
By the time the bus entered Little Britain, dusk had deepened. Streetlights lined the road like fallen stars scattered along the ground.
At seven o'clock, the bus pulled into the station. Laura stood quickly, adjusted her backpack, and stepped out without a word. Justin rose too, giving her space to pass.
She walked briskly ahead — no glance, no smile, no word of thanks.
Justin watched her go, his gaze following until she disappeared into the crowd. Slowly, he exhaled, eyes soft with something unspoken.
"Goodbye, Laura…"
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Laura quickened her pace the moment she stepped into the station, heading straight for the exit. Her face was flushed, her heartbeat still racing wildly.
"Hiss… what's wrong with me…" she muttered under her breath, pressing a hand to her chest.
Her steps faltered. She turned around, scanning the crowd. "Where did he go?" she whispered, her eyes darting from face to face — but Justin was nowhere to be seen.
Laura drew in a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She resumed walking, though her thoughts remained tangled.
I didn't mean to leave him behind… but when I looked into his eyes just now… why did my heart start racing like that?
She bit her lip, embarrassed by her own thoughts. Ugh, how stupid of me. I just met Cass yesterday, and now I'm feeling weird about her brother…
Laura let out a quiet huff, shaking her head as if to push the thought away. But the pounding in her chest wouldn't fade — as though something unfamiliar had begun to take root inside her, uninvited.
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From afar, through the half-raised visor, Laura could see her mother standing at the doorway — bathed in the soft, amber glow of the porch light. Her heart began to tremble; she already knew what awaited her.
As soon as her scooter came to a stop in the driveway, her mother stepped forward.
"Laura… why did you lie to me?"
Her voice was gentle, yet sharp — like a blade wrapped in silk.
Laura didn't answer right away. She removed her helmet, trying to hide the guilt on her face behind her tousled hair.
"If you'd known, you wouldn't have let me go… right?" she said quietly.
Patricia exhaled slowly. "It's not that I wouldn't have allowed it, Laura. I was just afraid you weren't ready — afraid it would hurt you too much."
"Don't worry, Mom. I'm fine," Laura replied with a weak smile, though her voice trembled slightly.
Patricia shook her head. "But why skip school for it? You could've gone on a Saturday… or Sunday."
"I'm sorry, Mom…" Laura's voice trailed off with a weary sigh. She didn't want to drag the conversation any further.
"Who did you go with?"
"With Justin."
This time, Patricia exhaled a small breath of relief. "At least you weren't alone. Come inside."
Laura stepped off her scooter and followed her mother toward the door.
"How's Halen?" Patricia asked softly.
"I only saw her from a distance, Mom. She's… not doing well." Laura tried to sound calm.
Patricia didn't respond right away. She simply nodded before unlocking the door. "I hope you're not too shaken up."
"One day," Laura said quietly, "I promise I'll meet Halen myself. And when that time comes… I'll tell her everything."
Patricia looked at her daughter for a long moment. "That's not wrong, Laura. But when that day comes, I hope you'll truly be ready — and willing to face whatever comes with it."
Laura nodded slowly. "I understand, Mom."
"Have you eaten?"
Laura shook her head. Patricia smiled faintly, then wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, guiding her gently into the house — love laced with a quiet, hidden worry.
After dinner, Laura went upstairs. Patricia, however, remained at the dining table, sitting alone. Her eyes were distant, her thoughts scattered. The calm face she'd shown her daughter earlier was merely a mask — inside, she wrestled with fear and unease.
She drew a long breath, staring at her husband's name on her phone screen. Her finger hovered over the call button, trembling slightly… but she didn't press it.
"Not yet…" she whispered.
She stood, gathering the plates and cups into the sink. The sound of running water filled the silence of the night — the kind that felt heavier than words.
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Laura stepped out of the bathroom, her hair still damp, towel in hand as she gently dabbed the strands clinging to her shoulders. Each step toward the bed felt heavy — as though all her energy had been drained since morning.
She sat at the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Justin's face drifted into her mind — his smile, his eyes, the calm way he'd looked at her with quiet patience. A pang of guilt rose suddenly in her chest.
"What's wrong with me…" she whispered softly, her cheeks flushing. She rubbed her face, embarrassed at her own thoughts.
Laura then lay back onto the soft mattress, her body sinking into its warmth. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling fan spinning lazily above her… until her vision blurred, and everything faded to black.
"Laura…"
A soft voice made her jolt. Her eyes fluttered open.
Standing before her was a woman — serene, with a faint smile and eyes clear as crystal, holding a thousand secrets within.
"You…" Laura's voice trembled. "Are you… are you all right?"
The woman smiled, her hand brushing gently across Laura's cheek. "I'm fine, Laura."
"But why… why did they do that to you?"
"Because my story is a long one," the woman replied tenderly, "and even now, it's not yet over."
Laura frowned, staring at the woman's face — unfamiliar, and yet, something deep inside her whispered that it was… close. Too close to her soul.
The woman chuckled softly, her laughter like a whispering breeze. "If you wish to know who I am, Laura, you must go to a place. There's someone there who knows everything about me."
"Where?"
"Paris."
"Paris?" Laura echoed, startled.
The woman nodded slowly. "You must meet your grandmother there."
"My grandmother?" Laura frowned again. "How do you know I even have a grandmother there?"
The woman gazed into her eyes, her smile deepening. "Because your grandmother shares the same blood as I do — just as you do, Laura."
"Wait… what do you mean—"
Before she could finish, the woman's image began to fade. The sounds around her dissolved into silence, and the bright world was swallowed by a thick, black haze.
"Hair like mine… my grandmother's name…" Laura whispered faintly — before everything vanished into darkness.