✨ Chapter Four — Shadows of the Past
1533 Words
✨ Chapter Four — Shadows of the Past
The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Amani stepped through the school gate. Her chest still ached from the night before — not from sleep, but from memories she could never escape.
She tried to focus on Elias White, whose presence had been a strange kind of comfort. His protective stance yesterday had made her feel seen for the first time in years. Maybe, just maybe, things could start to change.
But life had a way of dragging the past forward, and Amani had learned that some shadows refused to remain buried.
As she walked toward the courtyard, she felt it immediately — that familiar, sinking feeling crawling up her spine. Someone was watching her.
Her stomach turned cold.
She knew that look anywhere, even after a year.
Ethan Kelvin.
He stood across the yard, leaning casually against the school wall, but there was nothing casual about him. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and fixed entirely on her. The same smirk he had worn the first time he destroyed her trust played across his lips.
Amani froze. Her books slipped from her hands, scattering across the cement like fragile shards of glass. She tried to steady her breathing, tried to convince herself he was someone else, someone harmless.
But Ethan’s gaze told her everything. He remembered.
Her heart pounded so violently that she thought it might betray her, that it might give her away before she could even think of moving. Memories she had fought to lock away came flooding back — the hallway, the stolen moments of safety, the dark corners, the fear that had burned through her chest.
Amani turned sharply on her heel and ran.
Her legs carried her down the corridor faster than she had ever moved in her life. She didn’t care where she went — only that she left him behind, that she escaped the shadow he cast.
“Wait!” a voice called behind her.
It was Elias.
She didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. The hallway was nearly empty, the early morning mist curling around the windows, and she ran as if the air itself could shield her from him.
“Amani!”
He grabbed her arm gently but firmly, stopping her before she could reach the stairs.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low and steady, but laced with frustration.
She shook her head violently. “Nothing! Just… nothing!”
Elias narrowed his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. You’re shaking like a leaf. What’s going on?”
She bit her lip and forced herself to speak. “It’s… it’s nothing. I just… I don’t want to talk about it.”
Elias’s jaw tightened. He was always calm, but right now she could see the tension curling beneath the surface. His hands remained on her shoulders, not letting go. “Amani, I don’t do nothing. If you run away, I can’t help you. Not then. Not ever.”
Her chest tightened even more. Help. She had wanted help so many times before — but when it came, it frightened her. She had been betrayed once, shamed, blamed, and abandoned by the people who were supposed to protect her. The thought of someone stepping too close, too fast, made her panic.
“I… I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t!”
Elias’s expression softened, but the frustration never left his eyes. “Amani, you’re running from shadows. You can’t run forever. Not from me, not from anyone who wants to help.”
Her mind was a storm of memories. Ethan Kelvin. His smirk. The dark hallways. The laughter of those who blamed her. The way the world had turned against her when she had told the truth.
“I have to go,” she said, finally breaking free from his grasp. She ran down the steps, heart hammering, tears threatening to spill. “I… I just have to go home!”
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The Weight of Memories
By the time she reached her small house, her lungs were burning. She slammed the door behind her and pressed her forehead against it, shaking. Her grandmother’s old room — now empty, the walls lined with faint memories — felt like the only safe space left in the world.
Amani sank to the floor, clutching her knees, letting the tears fall freely. It had been a year since she had last experienced this kind of fear — raw, unfiltered, and suffocating. She had thought she had left Ethan Kelvin behind forever. That moving to the village had erased the pain.
But the past had a way of finding her, even when she was trying to run.
She remembered every detail — the hallway, the laughter, the words that had cut her deep. She remembered her mother’s disbelief, the way the world had judged her. Every time she closed her eyes, Ethan’s face appeared, reminding her that safety was a fragile illusion.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to vanish. She wanted the world to disappear and take the shadows with it.
But she couldn’t. Not yet.
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Elias’s Frustration
Meanwhile, Elias stood on the school steps, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight. He had never understood fear like this before — not fully. People were afraid of him, yes, but Amani…
He didn’t just frighten easily. She reacted. She ran, she panicked, she trembled — not from him, not from anything he had done. But he couldn’t just leave her like this. He had promised, in that moment under the mango tree, that he would help. That he would fight.
He clenched his fists. Ethan Kelvin. Of course. He had seen the boy lurking in the distance and he knew. Something about that name, the way people whispered it, the way Amani’s body had reacted — it wasn’t just fear. It was terror.
He wanted to hunt the boy down, demand answers, protect her in a way no one else ever had. But she had run, and his patience was being tested.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “Why does she run from everyone who actually cares?”
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The Safe Place
Amani curled on the floor of her grandmother’s room, shivering. For a long time, she didn’t move. The memories crashed into her mind relentlessly — Ethan Kelvin’s smirk, the shame, the whispers. Every sound outside reminded her of that feeling of being watched, of being trapped.
But then she thought of Elias. The boy who had caught her in the hallway. The boy who hadn’t judged her. The boy who had called her out, and yet… had tried to protect her.
Even though she was afraid, even though she had panicked, there was something about him that made her want to stand up. Something about him that whispered: You are not alone.
She didn’t know how to reconcile that feeling with the terror still coursing through her. She didn’t know if she could trust anyone again.
But she also knew she couldn’t run forever.
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Elias Doesn’t Give Up
By mid-morning, Elias had found a way to locate her. He didn’t barge into the house. He didn’t shout. He simply waited outside, leaning against the wall like a shadow himself.
When Amani finally crept to the window, her eyes red, her hair messy, she saw him — calm, patient, unwavering.
“Go away,” she whispered, voice trembling.
“No,” he replied softly. “Not until you tell me you’re okay.”
“I… I’m fine!” she said quickly, trying to cover the tears. “I just… I need to be alone!”
He shook his head. “No. You don’t run from this. Not now. Not ever. I’m not letting him — or anyone — hurt you again.”
The intensity of his gaze made her pause. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t rude. He was determined. And determination carried a weight that scared her almost as much as the memory of Ethan.
Amani’s voice softened, breaking in the middle of her words. “I… I’m scared.”
Elias’s expression softened just slightly. “I know. That’s why I’m here. I’ll make them pay if they try. And I’ll stay with you until you feel safe.”
For the first time in a long time, Amani felt the possibility of safety. Not complete safety — nothing in her life had ever been that simple — but a flicker. A spark. A promise.
It was enough.
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The First Step Forward
By the end of the day, Amani returned to school, hesitant but braver. She still avoided Ethan Kelvin when she could, keeping to the shadows and corners, but Elias was always nearby — a silent sentinel, guarding her without words.
Her classmates continued to whisper and watch, but she didn’t care as much anymore. She had survived worse. She had escaped worse. And now… she wasn’t entirely alone.
Something new had begun to grow in her chest — not just hope, but courage.
And as she walked the courtyard, she finally allowed herself one small thought:
Maybe this time… I don’t have to run.
- Writer
