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I stayed there in the doorway, keeping watch over them both.

Chapter Nineteen

Annika

I woke up with a start, the room colder than I remembered. I had no idea how long I had been asleep, and the dim light filtering through the cracked blinds didn’t tell me anything. I couldn’t tell if it was night or day. Then again, it didn’t matter.

I stretched, wincing at the stiffness in my neck, and then I realized… I was alone.

The boy was gone.

Panic shot through me as I scrambled off the cot, my mind racing. Where could he have gone? What if he was hurt, or worse? My chest tightened as I pushed the door open and hurried into the hallway.

“He’s just a child,” I muttered to myself, my footsteps echoing in the silence. “He wouldn’t go far, would he?”

I checked every room I passed: the supply closet, the makeshift infirmary, even the storage room filled with crates of food and supplies. No sign of him. My worry deepened with every empty room.

“Where are you?” I whispered, my voice thick with unease.

I turned the corner and froze when I heard a faint giggle. A child’s giggle. Relief flooded me as I followed the sound, my pace quickening.

When I reached the common room, I stopped in the doorway, catching my breath.

There he was, sitting cross-legged on the worn couch with a comic book spread out on his lap. His face was animated as he traced a finger over the brightly colored panels. And sittingacross from him, leaning back in one of the old armchairs, was Lucas.

He wasn’t reading the comic, just watching the boy with an expression I couldn’t quite place. His arms were crossed, and his lips quirked into a faint smile. It was soft, almost protective.

I lingered in the doorway, not wanting to disturb the moment. The boy looked so at ease, so… normal. It was a stark contrast to the frightened, trembling child from last night.

Lucas glanced up, his sharp eyes immediately finding mine. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he gave a small nod, as if to say he’s fine, you don’t need to worry.

The boy noticed my presence too and looked up, his face lighting up in recognition. He held up the comic book, pointing to a panel with a triumphant grin, though he didn’t say a word.

I stepped into the room, my heart still pounding but for an entirely different reason now.

“Good morning,” I said softly, approaching the couch.

The boy scooted over, making space for me to sit beside him. I settled in, glancing over the comic book he was showing me.

“Where did you find this?” I asked, smiling despite myself.

Lucas answered before the boy could gesture. “We keep a stash in the back closet. Figured he could use a distraction.”

“Smart,” I said, looking up at Lucas. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, but his eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before he leaned back in his chair again.

I turned my attention back to the boy, who had already flipped to another page. He tugged at my sleeve, pointing eagerly at something else.

As I listened to his silent enthusiasm, a weight lifted from my chest. He was safe, at least for now. And seeing him like this, relaxed, almost happy, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for this semblance of normalcy.

The boy tugged on my sleeve again, his big eyes staring up at me with an intensity that sent a pang straight through my chest. He pointed to the comic book in his lap, then to his mouth, and shook his head.

I frowned. “You… can't talk?” I asked gently.

He nodded once, his small fingers tightening on the edge of the comic.

I glanced at Lucas, who was sitting silently in the chair, his expression unreadable. “Do you think he’s always been like this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.