Lila
The trees didn't end suddenly. They faded away little by little, as if the forest was unsure about letting us go. The sky beyond them wasn't brighter. The same heavy darkness still hung over everything, stretching across the island like a blanket that didn't belong to this world.
The air felt wider here. Exposed. I could hear things again loose metal somewhere knocking in the wind, something rolling slowly and stopping, the faint creak of something wooden shifting. Sounds… but not life.
We stepped out of the trees and finally saw the main road.
It looked wrong.
A long strip of cracked asphalt cut across the land. An overturned car rested partly on the shoulder with one door open. The windows were clouded with dust and salt. A bicycle lay abandoned on its side near the dividing line, and a single blue sneaker sat beside it like someone had stepped out of it and kept running.
Hana tightened her grip on my arm.
"Where is everybody?" she whispered.
I didn't answer. I didn't trust my voice.
We stood there for a moment, listening to nothing. The world felt paused again. Like everything that made sense had been lifted away, and only objects remained to prove people had ever been here.
Ethan finally stepped forward. His shoulders were tense, and the twins stayed so close to him that they were almost pressed to his sides.
"We'll stay near the edge," he said quietly. "Walk where the ground is mixed with roots and gravel. Try not to hit the road too hard."
We crossed slowly. A damp newspaper was stuck to the asphalt. The headline was still readable.
Nako Island Weather Phenomenon Intensifies - Officials Investigating
The date was today.
Dad would have read this before going to work. He read the paper every morning at the kitchen table.
A lump formed in my throat. I folded the paper back where it had been and kept walking.
The houses along the road were open in strange ways. Some doors were left wide. Some were cracked halfway. A grocery bag lay split across a porch, cans scattered down the steps. Curtains blew through shattered windows. A child's tricycle lay on its side in a driveway.
But there were no voices. No footsteps.
Only the world after something had happened.
We kept moving, staying close together. After a while, the ground trembled softly beneath our feet. Just once. Enough that all five of us felt it and stopped at the same time.
Hana pressed her face into my arm. Alex grabbed Ethan's sleeve. No one spoke.
The tremor faded.
And we walked on.