episode 3
512 Words
THE NEW FOUNDATION
CHAPTER THREE
The night swallowed the campus as Ama left the welding workshop.
The machines were finally quiet, but her mind was not. The echo of sparks and grinding metal still rang in her ears, along with something else—the memory of Liam’s calm voice from earlier.
She walked fast, her boots hitting the pavement in sharp, steady beats. The late air was cold, brushing against her skin like a reminder that she was alone.
Her thoughts were elsewhere when she rounded the corner near the parking lot.
She ran straight into him.
The impact was light, but it was enough. Her heavy bag slipped from her shoulder and fell, spilling tools across the concrete with loud metallic clinks.
Ama’s body reacted before her mind did. She flinched backward, heart racing, breath sharp in her chest.
Liam had already stepped away, his hands lifted slightly, as if to show he wasn’t a threat.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
He knelt down immediately and began gathering her things—a wrench, her gloves, her notebook, all scattered like pieces of her control. He picked them up carefully and handed them back to her.
“Look,” he said softly, “about before. I didn’t mean to butt in on your work. It’s rough out there. I know it gets frustrating.”
Ama took the tools from him quickly, gripping them tight, her eyes fixed anywhere but his.
“Whatever,” she said flatly.
It was not anger.
It was not forgiveness.
It was a wall.
Liam paused. He didn’t argue. He didn’t look offended.
“I understand,” he said.
Then, after a moment, “We all deserve to be safe, Ama.”
He gave her a small nod and walked away.
Ama stood there alone, the quiet campus stretching wide around her. The words stayed with her longer than she wanted them to.
Safe.
She hated that it unsettled her.
For the next few days, she avoided him.
In the welding shop, she chose stations far from where he worked. If she saw him walk in, she turned her body slightly away. She told herself she didn’t care, that he was just another person passing through her life.
But somehow, she always knew when he was nearby.
And worse—she noticed when he wasn’t.
One evening, her project went wrong.
The weld wouldn’t hold. The metal warped, twisting under the heat no matter how carefully she worked. She cursed under her breath and shut off the torch. Sweat rolled down her temple beneath her helmet.
She stared at the damaged joint.
She knew what she had done wrong.
And she knew who could fix it.
Ama looked up.
Liam was at the far end of the shop, focused on his own work, unaware of her staring.
Her hands tightened around the torch.
She didn’t want to go to him.
She didn’t want to owe him.
She didn’t want to open even the smallest door.
But the metal sat there, broken and waiting.
And so did she.
- Writer
