Mara found him again in the woods—same place as always, near the crooked tree that looked like it was about to give up and fall over but never quite did.

Eli was sitting on the big flat rock, hood up, fingers picking at the seams of his sleeves. He hadn’t heard her approach, which was rare. Usually, he knew the sound of her steps before she made them.

“You’re late,” he said without looking up.

“You weren’t supposed to leave,” she shot back.

He glanced over his shoulder. Same gray eyes. Same stupid grin.

“I didn’t think you’d notice.”

Mara walked past him and dropped her bag onto the mossy ground with a soft thud. She sat down cross-legged, not too close, not too far. A breeze rolled through, stirring the leaves into soft whispers.

“You scared the hell out of everyone,” she said.

“I left a note.”

“It was written on the back of a receipt.”

“Still counts.”

They sat in silence for a while. It wasn’t awkward. It never was. The clearing was quiet except for the rustling trees and a couple of birds bickering overhead.

Finally, Eli spoke.

“I just needed to get out for a bit. Think.”

“And walking into the woods like some dramatic ghost was the best option?”

He cracked a smile. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Mara leaned back on her hands, staring at the branches above.

“People thought you might be gone for good.”

“I wasn’t going far.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She didn’t say it to guilt him. It wasn’t a threat. Just a fact. He knew her well enough to hear what she didn’t say.

She looked over at him then, really looked. His face was a little more tired. Like something had been gnawing at him, quietly.

He fiddled with the edge of the locket around his neck—hers, actually, something she gave him years ago and forgot about until he started wearing it again.

Mara didn’t know what exactly he’d been thinking about all this time. Maybe he didn’t either. But she knew one thing, and it came out before she could stop herself.

“I will not walk this earth without you.”

It wasn’t a plea. It was a line drawn in the dirt. She wasn’t asking him to stay. She was telling him he didn’t get to vanish.

Eli blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of it. No grand speech. No tears.

Just her. As usual.

He exhaled slowly, a half-laugh in his throat. “You really don’t let me be dramatic, do you?”

“You can be dramatic. You just can’t disappear.”

He nodded, eyes tracing the sky through the trees. “Alright. Noted.”

They didn’t hug. There were no violins. He bumped her shoulder with his.

“I’m hungry.”

“Same.”

They stood up together, brushing leaves from their clothes.

“Let’s go home,” she said.

“Race you,” he grinned, already breaking into a run.

Mara rolled her eyes and followed—just a step behind, like always.