The forest didn't sound like safety.
It sounded like breathing — wet leaves dripping, the wind whispering between broken branches, and somewhere far off, the dying echo of sirens that hadn't given up yet.
Jayden crouched under an overhang of rock, rainwater running down his face, his lungs burning. The adrenaline had carried them this far, but now the crash hit like a brick to the chest.
Layla sat across from him, knees pulled to her chest, mud streaking her arms. Her lips were trembling, though whether from cold or shock, he couldn't tell.
Between them, the small fire Jayden had built sputtered in the damp air.
---
The Weight of Silence
They hadn't spoken in almost an hour. Every time one of them tried, the words got lost somewhere between grief and disbelief.
Jayden's mind replayed the last ten minutes on a loop — Ortiz's eyes glazing over, his weight in Jayden's arms, the way the rain had washed his blood into the dirt like it couldn't bear to remember it.
He clenched his jaw. "He didn't deserve that."
Layla looked up. "None of us did."
Her voice was soft but sharp, the kind of quiet that cut deeper than shouting.
Jayden threw a twig into the fire. "I told him to stay behind. He didn't listen."
"He believed in you," she said simply.
Jayden looked into the flames. "That's what scares me."
---
The First Real Look
When the rain slowed, he finally turned to her — really looked at her.
She was older, yes, but the same in the eyes — that steel-colored calm that used to unnerve every adult who tried to control her. Her hair was shorter, her face leaner. But her presence — that was pure Layla.
"Thought I'd never see you again," he said.
She gave a small, hollow laugh. "I stopped letting myself think about it."
"Then why'd you run?"
She shrugged. "Guess I finally remembered what you taught me."
Jayden frowned. "What's that?"
"Don't wait for the world to give you permission to live."
He smiled despite the ache in his chest. "You really were listening."
---
The Burn
The fire hissed as rain dripped from the rocks above. The flames painted their faces in gold and shadow, like ghosts made of light.
Layla's eyes dropped to his hands. "You've changed," she said.
"So have you."
"Not like that."
Jayden followed her gaze — the scars along his knuckles, the small tattoo on his wrist, the faint tremor that never quite went away after fights.
He rubbed his thumb along the ink. "Yeah. Prison teaches you what you can survive. And what you can't."
Layla leaned closer. "What couldn't you?"
He hesitated. "Forgetting."
She nodded, as if she understood exactly what that meant.
---
The Ghost Beside Them
For a while, neither spoke. The fire cracked, and something small moved in the dark — a fox, maybe, or just the forest shifting.
Layla finally whispered, "Do you think he felt it? Ortiz, I mean."
Jayden stared into the flames. "No. I think he went out believing it was worth it."
Her throat tightened. "Then we can't waste it."
He looked up. "We won't."
The determination in her eyes made him realize something — she wasn't the little sister he'd promised to protect. She was his equal now, maybe stronger.
And that scared him in a new way.
---
The Plan That Wasn't
"We can't stay here," she said finally. "They'll find the blood trail by morning."
Jayden nodded. "I know. There's a river about a mile west. It'll hide our scent."
Layla stood, her movements sharp and precise. "Where are we even going?"
"North."
"To what?"
He paused. The truth was, he didn't know. The plan had ended at find her. Everything after was just empty space.
She caught the hesitation in his face and tilted her head. "You didn't think this far ahead, did you?"
Jayden smiled weakly. "I was kind of busy breaking into a juvenile fortress."
She sighed and rubbed her arms. "Then I guess we'll figure it out together."
---
The Fire Dies
The fire sputtered and went dark, smoke curling upward like a final breath. The forest went black except for the faint gray shimmer of dawn pushing against the horizon.
Jayden stood, adjusting his soaked jacket. "We move when the sun's up. Keep to the treeline."
Layla hesitated. "And after that?"
He looked at her, voice low. "After that… we stop running for other people."
She studied him, then nodded slowly. "Then let's see what it means to run for ourselves."
They started walking before the sun broke fully through, shadows long behind them, the world ahead raw and unknown.
The storm had passed, but the air still buzzed with something electric — like the calm before another kind of war.
And somewhere in that quiet, Jayden realized the truth: freedom wasn't the end. It was the beginning of something much harder.