The car pulled up slowly in front of Aunt Anna's house — a quiet, cream-colored bungalow at the edge of town. The evening air was heavy and still.
Alex sat motionless in the passenger seat, staring out the window. He could see his reflection — small, pale, and lost — against the fading orange light.
"Come on, sweetheart," Aunt Anna said softly. "Let's get you inside."
He didn't answer. He stepped out of the car, clutching his backpack, and followed her up the small steps. The scent of lavender candles filled the air — the kind his mother used to light. The smell made his chest ache.
"This will be your room," Aunt Anna said as she opened the door at the end of the hallway. "You can decorate it however you want."
Alex looked around. The room was neat but strange — too quiet, too new. It didn't have his posters, his drawings, or his parents' laughter echoing through the walls. Just emptiness.
He nodded silently and dropped his bag on the bed. Aunt Anna lingered at the doorway for a moment.
"If you need anything, I'm right down the hall," she said softly. "Anything at all."
"Okay," Alex murmured.
That night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The house creaked occasionally, and the soft tick of the wall clock seemed louder than usual.
He held the framed picture his parents had given him that morning and whispered, "Happy birthday to me…" before the tears finally came.
Three days later, the sky wept with him.
Rain poured steadily as black umbrellas dotted the cemetery like dark flowers. Alex stood beside Aunt Anna, dressed in a suit that felt too tight and too heavy. A cold wind blew, carrying the scent of wet earth.
In front of him were two gravestones — his parents' names etched in clean, lifeless letters.
He held a single red rose in his hand. The petals trembled under the drizzle.
"I'll miss you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'll make you proud. I promise."
He knelt, placed the rose gently on the damp soil, and let his fingers linger on the cold stone.
"Alex…"
He turned to see Felicity standing behind him, holding a small black umbrella. Her eyes were red, her face pale.
"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."
He tried to smile, but his lips only quivered. "Thanks for coming."
They stood in silence for a while, the rain pattering softly around them. Then, quietly, Alex said, "Felicity… do you know where the accident happened?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Near the outskirts — by the old highway. Why?"
"I need to see it," he said. His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with something deeper — a need for answers.
"Now?"
He nodded. "Please."
Felicity hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Okay. Let's go."
The road was slick with rain as they walked, puddles splashing beneath their shoes. When they reached the outskirts, the newly repaired stretch of asphalt looked untouched — smooth, almost too perfect.
"This can't be it," Felicity said, frowning. "It looks brand new."
"Yeah," Alex murmured, scanning the surroundings. "But this is where they said it happened."
They walked along the roadside in silence. Then Felicity suddenly stopped.
"Wait… what's that?"
She bent down and picked something shiny from the muddy grass. She rubbed it with her thumb — it was a ring. A delicate silver band with a small sapphire in the center.
"Alex," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Isn't this your mum's ring?"
Alex's breath caught. He took the ring, turning it in his hand. It shimmered faintly even in the dull light. "It is," he said, his voice trembling. "She never took it off."
Felicity looked toward a small convenience shop nearby. "Maybe someone saw something. Maybe they have cameras."
Inside the shop, the air smelled faintly of dust and coffee. An old woman sat behind the counter, knitting with thick, clumsy fingers. She looked up as the two kids entered.
"Can I help you?" she asked, adjusting her glasses.
"Yes, ma'am," Felicity said quickly, putting on her best innocent smile. "We, uh… lost something near the road the other day. We were wondering if we could look at your security footage to see if someone picked it up?"
The woman frowned but nodded. "Alright, but it's old footage. Black and white. Might not help you much."
They followed her into a small back room. The old television monitor flickered to life, displaying the grainy, colorless video. The footage showed the highway — quiet and still.
"There!" Alex said suddenly. He pointed at the screen. "That's my parents' car!"
They watched in silence as the vehicle drove past. Then, without warning, it jerked sideways, spinning violently before tumbling out of view.
Alex's hand flew to his mouth. "No…"
The old woman paused the tape, her face grave. "That's exactly what I saw that day," she said softly. "One moment it was fine — the next, it started flipping like something hit it. But there was nothing else on the road. No other car, no animal… nothing."
Alex stared at the frozen image, confusion and fear tightening his chest. "That doesn't make sense," he whispered.
Later that evening, they arrived at the town's junkyard — a maze of twisted metal and rusting vehicles. The air was thick with the smell of oil and rain.
"There it is," Felicity said, pointing to a crumpled silver car in the corner.
Alex approached slowly, his heart pounding. The windshield was shattered, the front bent beyond repair. Rainwater dripped through the cracks.
He reached inside, running his fingers along the dashboard — then stopped. Something felt off. A loose panel.
"Wait," he muttered, prying it open. A small compartment clicked, revealing a stack of folded papers and a test tube filled with glowing blue liquid.
Felicity gasped. "What… what is that?"
Alex pulled out the papers. On the cover was a single word: 'Herculite'.
Before they could read further, a gruff voice barked behind them.
"Hey! What do you kids think you're doing?"
They spun around. The junkyard owner - a big man with grease-stained hands - was stomping toward them. He grabbed each of them by the collar.
"You can't just wander in here like it's a playground!" he snapped.
"We're sorry, sir!" Felicity said quickly. "We didn't mean to—"
Before he could say more, Aunt Anna's car screeched to a stop outside. She jumped out, her face pale with worry.
"Alex! Felicity!" she called.
The owner released them immediately. "You know these kids?" he asked.
"Yes," Aunt Anna said tightly. "And they're going home."
She apologized profusely, then guided them into the car. The moment the doors closed, she turned to Alex, anger and fear flashing in her eyes.
"What were you thinking? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"
"I had to know," Alex said quietly. "I had to see it for myself."
Aunt Anna's expression softened. Her voice cracked. "I know, sweetheart. I know." She pulled him into a hug, her tears wetting his hair. "I'm sorry I yelled. I just… I can't lose you too."
Alex didn't answer. He only nodded, clutching the bag that now hid the papers and the glowing vial.
That night, back in his room, he opened his wardrobe and pushed the items deep into a corner behind his clothes.
He stared at the glowing blue liquid for a long moment before whispering, "What were you guys hiding?"
The vial pulsed faintly, casting an eerie blue light a
cross the room.
And for the first time since the accident, Alex felt something stir inside him —
not fear, but determination.