Chapter 16 — The Secret
1371 Words
Aliyah’s POV
Night settles over the forest like a shroud.
It was cold, heavy, and watching.
I tighten my grip on Adrian’s hand as we move through the undergrowth, each step careful and painfully slow. The moon barely filters through the trees, giving us just enough light to stumble forward.
Adrian’s breath is ragged. His every inhale is thinner than the one before.
“Hey, are you still with me?” I whisper, squeezing his fingers gently.
He gives a strained huff that might be a laugh. “Barely.”
My heart twists.
“Don’t joke like that.”
“I'm not,” he murmurs, head dipping forward. “Just... trying to be honest.”
He sways and I immediately wrap my arm around his waist, taking his weight.
“Okay, okay... slow down,” I whisper. “Just... keep leaning on me.”
“I already am.”
“I admit, you’re heavy.”
“Then, drop me.”
I stop dead. “Don’t say that.”
He looks at me with pain-glazed but earnest. “Aliyah… you can’t carry me forever. They'll be able to catch up... being this slow. And if they find us—”
“They won’t,” I say instantly, refusing to hear more. “And if they do, they’ll have to go through me again.”
His eyes soften. “You shouldn’t have to fight.”
“Then stop giving me reasons to.”
He tries to smile, but his legs buckle again, and I barely catch him before he hits the forest floor.
“Adrian!” My voice breaks. “Hey—hey—stay awake.”
His eyes flutter. “Trying…”
“Can't you try harder?” I whisper, pressing my cheek against his. “Please.”
He leans into me, breath trembling.
But he’s fading again. Fast.
I scan the forest desperately for any shelter.
And then I saw lights.
Soft yellow glimmers flickering through trees up ahead.
I swallow. “There’s something ahead. Maybe people?”
“Or them,” he whispers, barely conscious.
“I’ll go check. But first, we need to get closer... quietly.”
He nods weakly and lets me guide him, one slow step at a time. My shoulder aches under his weight, but I push forward, refusing to falter.
We reach the edge of a slope overlooking a small clearing.
The lights belong to lanterns hung around a wooden structure, an old one, but lived-in. Smoke rises faintly from a chimney.
A cabin.
A real one.
Not abandoned.
Not destroyed.
But also… not necessarily safe.
I help Adrian down behind a tree, lowering him carefully to the ground.
“Stay here,” I whisper. “Don’t move.”
He blinks. “Aliyah… wait.”
My breath catches.
His hand rises, shaking, and curls into the fabric of my sleeve.
“Don’t go too far,” he says, voice barely audible. “I can’t—if something happens to you— I won't be able to help...”
“Nothing will happen, okay?” I whisper, placing my hand over his. “I’ll only be gone a minute.”
He nods, though fear shadows his face.
I slip toward the cabin silently, heart pounding. Every twig snap under my boot makes me wince. I circle the clearing, and...
Nothing.
No guards.
No voices except distant night birds.
But the lanterns…
Someone must have lit them. That only means, someone lives here.
I approach the window and peek inside.
It's empty.
But warm.
And there are blankets.
A lit oil lamp.
Food left on a table.
A jacket on a chair.
Someone is nearby, but not here now.
It’s risky, I know.
But leaving Adrian out there is riskier.
I run back to him.
“Aliyah—” His head snaps up weakly as he sees me. “What… what did you find?”
“It’s empty right now. I think we can use it.”
His shoulders sag with relief. “Thank God…”
I help him up again. Together, we cross the clearing and slip into the cabin, closing the door softly behind us.
The moment we’re inside, warmth hits my skin like a blessing. I guide Adrian to the bed and ease him onto it.
He exhales sharply with pain, exhaustion, and everything crashing into him at once.
“Aliyah,” he murmurs as I pull blankets up around him. “You shouldn’t… trust places like this so easily.”
“I don’t... and I know any minute there could be danger, but” I whisper. “I’m trusting you.”
He looks up at me with something shattered and fierce in his eyes.
“Aliyah, I need to tell you something.”
“I know.” I sit beside him, hands trembling slightly. “You’ve been trying to since the cabin.”
His jaw tightens. “Because you need to understand why they want you.”
“Tell me,” I whisper, breath caught in my throat. “Please.”
He closes his eyes, gathering strength.
“Aliyah,” he says finally. “Your father… wasn’t just a musician.”
My heart stops.
“What?”
“He wasn’t just some performer who disappeared. He didn’t die in an accident. He didn’t run away.” Adrian swallows hard, pain flickering across his face. “He was involved with them. The men hunting us.”
My blood turns to ice.
“No,” I whisper. “No—my dad was—he was kind. He loved music. He wouldn’t—he—”
“He tried to leave,” Adrian says quietly. “Just like I’m trying to. He tried to take you and your mother away from that life. But they didn’t let him.”
My throat closes. “Adrian… what are you even saying?”
He looks at me with deep sorrow.
“They killed him, Aliyah.”
I stagger backward as if struck.
“No—no—stop—stop…”
“He died protecting you,” Adrian says, eyes glistening with his own pain. “And they think you know something he hid. Something he stole. They think you have it.”
Cold climbs up my spine.
“What… what could he have stolen?”
“We don’t know,” Adrian whispers. “But whatever it is, it’s big enough to make you their top priority.”
My breath shakes violently.
“My whole life… everything I thought I knew…”
“Aliyah.” Adrian reaches for my hand, weak but desperate. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner.”
“And you—” My voice breaks. “Did you know this whole time?”
His silence answers for him.
I pull my hand back in shock.
“You did.”
“Aliyah—”
“You knew who my father was,” I whisper, stepping away from the bed. “You knew why they were hunting me. And you didn’t tell me.”
He tries to sit up, pain twisting his face. “I was trying to protect you—”
“No,” I whisper, tears spilling over. “You were trying to protect yourself from losing me.”
He doesn’t deny it.
The truth is there. Raw, agonizing, and honest.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I didn’t want to be another person who hurt you.”
My chest tightens painfully.
I kneel beside him.
“Then don’t lie to me again.”
He looks at me, broken, and hopeful.
“I won’t,” he says. “I swear it.”
A sound outside snaps our attention.
Twigs.
Footsteps.
Someone is approaching.
Adrian grabs my wrist weakly. “Get away from the window.”
I help him lean back against the pillows and slip toward the shadows, pulse racing.
The footsteps stop right outside.
A sudden pause, then a knock. Three sharp raps.
Adrian’s eyes widen. “That’s a signal. From someone in my old network.”
A thin and terrifying hope sparks in my chest.
“Is it someone we can trust?”
Adrian hesitates.
“For now,” he whispers, “we don’t have a choice.”
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