Rooted in Moonlight

Her breath tore through her lungs like fire as she sprinted, the dense woodland smearing into a tangle of shadows and fleeting shapes. Bare feet slammed against the forest floor, each step biting into her soles with sharp rocks and knotted roots. The pain was a distant ache—there was no time to feel it. She couldn’t stop. Not with the beast on her heels.

A thunderous howl ripped through the silence, the sound vibrating through the trees and deep into her chest. Her pulse spiked. The predator was closer now, too close. Desperation clawed at her resolve, and she dared a glance over her shoulder.

That was her mistake.

Her foot snagged on a hidden root, the rough bark slicing her skin as she stumbled forward with a strangled cry. The earth rushed to meet her, the fall jarring her bones. Pain flared in her ankle as her body hit the ground, sharp and unforgiving. A gasp escaped her lips as she clutched her leg, trying to stifle the growing throb.

Move. Get up.

The command echoed in her mind, but her limbs betrayed her, trembling with exhaustion and fear. She tried to push herself up, but a low, guttural growl rooted her in place.

Her head turned slowly, dread curling in her stomach.

Glowing blue eyes pierced the darkness, locking onto her with an intensity that made her blood run cold. A massive wolf loomed just steps away, its silhouette stark against the shifting shadows. The air thickened with the weight of its presence, a predator pulled straight from her worst nightmares.

It had found her.

Every instinct screamed for her to run, to fight, to do something—but her body refused to obey. She was trapped, paralyzed by the raw, primal energy radiating from the creature.

The wolf lowered its head, its lips peeling back to reveal sharp, glistening fangs. The growl deepened, reverberating like a warning bell. Its muscles bunched beneath its fur, a coiled spring ready to unleash its force.

She barely had time to draw a shaky breath before it lunged.

A scream shattered the stillness, yanking her violently from the dream.

Cedar Brooke bolted upright, her chest heaving, the sound still ringing in her ears. Her throat ached, raw and tight, and it took a heartbeat too long to realize the scream had been her own.

Shadows swirled in the edges of her vision as she blinked, disoriented, her eyes scanning the room in frantic sweeps. Her gaze caught on familiar shapes—the desk cluttered with half-finished sketches, the lamp on its crooked base, the posters curling at the edges on her walls. Bit by bit, the dark corners settled into the familiar contours of her bedroom.

No beasts. No glowing eyes.

“Calm down,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and unsteady. “It was just a dream. Just a dream.”

The words felt fragile, like a shield made of glass. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out the room’s quiet. She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow.

The silence stretched, taut and suffocating. Then—

Her name rang out, sharp and urgent, cutting through the haze. A moment later, the pounding of footsteps echoed up the stairs, each thud reverberating in her chest.

“Cedar, what’s wrong?” Julia’s voice cut through the fog of panic, soft but laced with worry. She stood in the doorway, her eyes sweeping the room, searching for an answer. Her gaze settled on Cedar’s face—pale, wide-eyed, and trembling.

Without hesitation, Julia crossed the room and knelt beside her. “Are you okay? Did you have that nightmare again?”

Cedar managed a slow nod, her throat too tight to form words.

“Oh, sweetheart...” Julia perched on the edge of the bed, drawing Cedar into a warm, protective embrace. Her arms felt solid and safe, a small barrier against the lingering terror. “It’s alright. You’re safe. It was just a dream. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

Cedar buried her face in Julia’s shoulder, her breath hitching as frustration bubbled beneath the surface. “Why do I keep having it?” she rasped, her voice raw and shaky. “It’s been two weeks, Julia. Two weeks.”

“I know, honey,” Julia murmured, her hand moving to stroke Cedar’s hair in a soothing rhythm. “It must be so exhausting.” She pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Cedar’s eyes, her expression gentle. “How about I call Dr. Stone on Monday? Maybe he can help figure out what’s going on. What do you think?”

Cedar hesitated, gnawing at her lip. The idea of talking about the dream felt... wrong, like exposing a wound still too tender to touch. But another sleepless night, haunted by glowing eyes and snapping jaws, felt worse. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah... maybe.”

Julia’s smile was warm, a quiet reassurance. She brushed a stray curl from Cedar’s cheek. “Good. We’ll figure this out together.”

Standing, Julia glanced back at her. “Now, what do you say we head downstairs for breakfast? I made your favorite—banana pancakes.”

Cedar’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “With cherries and syrup?”

Julia chuckled. “Of course! They wouldn’t be my famous banana pancakes without cherries.” She made her way to the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. “I’ll see you downstairs, okay?”

“Be right there! Just need to get dressed,” Cedar called, already halfway out of bed.

Julia lingered in the doorway, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “I’d hurry if I were you. Skylar’s supposed to get here soon, and you know how he feels about pancakes. I’d hate for you to miss out.”

“You’re so mean, Jules!”

“I know,” Julia replied with a playful wink before shutting the door behind her.

Cedar rolled her eyes but didn’t waste time. She yanked open a drawer, grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and swapped them for her pajama bottoms. She tugged on her favorite navy blue hoodie and jogged out of her room, her socks sliding a little on the hardwood floor as she hurried down the stairs.

The aroma of bananas and syrup wafted through the air, pulling her into the kitchen. Julia was at the stove, expertly flipping a pancake, while two plates already sat on the island, stacked high with golden, fluffy goodness. A bowl of cherries and a bottle of maple syrup waited in the middle of the island.

“Took you long enough. I was starting to think I’d have to eat all these myself,” Julia teased, her tone light as she poured steaming coffee into a mug.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Cedar shot back, sliding into a chair and reaching for the syrup. She forked a generous bite into her mouth, sighing with satisfaction. “So good.”

“Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch,” Julia said with a grin, flipping another pancake onto the growing stack. “Feels like forever since I’ve been able to cook a proper breakfast.”

Cedar chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before she replied. “You’ve been busy, Jules. Wasn’t it just a few days ago those hikers got attacked up at North Ridge?”

Julia’s smile faltered, her expression growing serious. “That’s right. I wasn’t working that day, but Angie mentioned it when the ambulance brought them in. She said they looked like they’d been mauled.”

Cedar froze mid-bite, her fork hovering inches from her plate. “Mauled? By what? A bear?”

Julia gave her a pointed look. “Are you ever going to stop talking with your mouth full?”

Cedar grinned sheepishly and shook her head. “Probably not.”

Julia sighed, turning her attention back to the stove. “A bear’s possible, but Angie said the bite marks were... unusual. Too big for any dog. I’d say wolves, but there haven’t been wolf attacks around here in years.”

The word wolves hit Cedar like a cold splash of water. The memory of her dream surged forward—those glowing eyes, the snarls, the sharp, predatory teeth. Her stomach twisted, and she stared down at her empty plate, her appetite gone.

Quietly, Cedar rose from the table, carrying her plate to the sink. She began washing it, the warm water and scent of soap offering a small distraction.

“You don’t want more?” Julia asked, eyeing the last stack of pancakes on the stove as she reached for a third plate.

Cedar gave a faint, uneasy smile. “I think talking about wolves mauling people kind of... killed my appetite.”

Julia’s eyes widened in concern. “Goodness, I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have brought that up, especially after your nightmare.”

Cedar waved her off, her smile softening. “It’s fine. Besides, it just means Skye will have more pancakes, so he won’t complain I ate them all.”

The thought of Skylar’s usual pancake-related grumbles made Cedar chuckle, a genuine spark of amusement flickering in her chest. Julia’s lips curved into a soft laugh as she set the third plate on the counter and then sank into the chair across from Cedar.

“It’s okay, Cedar. You don’t have to make excuses. How about you go outside for a bit? I’ll send Skye out to find you when he gets here.”

Cedar’s smile turned warm, her eyes softening with gratitude. “Thanks, Jules.”

“Be safe,” Julia called after her.

“Always.”

Cedar pressed a brief kiss to Julia’s cheek before heading toward the front door. Her boots, worn and sturdy, clacked softly against the floor as she grabbed them from the shoe rack. The cool air greeted her as she stepped outside, the porch creaking underfoot as she glanced out toward the woods.

The porch creaked under her weight as she paused, looking out at the woods. The aged oak trees stood tall, their twisted branches like old hands reaching skyward. A mosaic of fallen leaves—deep greens, vibrant reds, and warm yellows—blanketed the forest floor, the colors vibrant even in the diffused morning light.

A breeze swept through, tugging at her curls and rustling the leaves, the wind carrying an almost playful whisper. Cedar grinned, letting the joy of the moment lift her spirits.

“Good morning to you too,” she murmured with a soft laugh, speaking to no one but feeling as though the world itself was listening. Cedar savored the peace of the moment, letting the breeze whisper in her ear.

She rushed off the porch, her feet crunching the fallen leaves underfoot, the familiar path to her sanctuary clear in her mind. After only a few moments, a soft smile tugged at her lips, her pace quickening as she reached her haven.

In the center of a quiet clearing stood the ancient oak, its branches twisting like the hands of an old friend reaching for the sky. One sturdy limb held a weathered tire swing, gently swaying with the breeze. The tree’s presence felt regal, ancient, yet comforting—like it had always been there, waiting for her.

As she approached, the wind picked up, brushing the leaves and branches in a symphony of whispers, almost as if the tree itself was welcoming her back.

Cedar placed her hand on the rough bark of the trunk, grounding herself in its age-old strength. She leaned her forehead against the tree, the scent of earth and wood filling her senses.

“I’ll only be here a little while,” she murmured softly, as if speaking to the tree itself. “Then I’ll have to head back home.”

With practiced ease, Cedar reached for the nearest branch, her fingers wrapping around the cool wood as she pulled herself upward. She climbed higher until she reached her favorite spot, settling against the strong branch that had always been there to support her. The rough bark beneath her palms was comforting, familiar.

Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patches of warm light on her skin. A deep sense of calm settled over her, the quiet rhythm of the forest surrounding her like a cocoon. The whispers of the wind, the rustle of the leaves, and the occasional chirp of a bird created the peaceful melody of her sanctuary.

Closing her eyes, Cedar let herself breathe deeply, soaking in the peace of the moment. No matter how close she and Julia were, no matter how much Julia loved and cared for her, Cedar had never shared this haven. It wasn’t a lack of trust—it was something deeper. This place felt sacred, a space where she could simply be.

Except for him.

He was the only one who knew about it. No matter where she went, it seemed he would always find her.

*****************************************

Something stirred Cedar from her reverie—a feeling, perhaps, though she could never quite define it. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning, the peacefulness of the moment stilling her thoughts.

A sharp whistle cut through the quiet, snapping her back to reality. Cedar balanced herself on the branch, peering through the leaves. A tall figure stood at the edge of the clearing, his outline unmistakable. A smile crept onto her face as she returned the whistle.

With that, she began her descent, the cool wind rushing past her face. When she reached the last branch, a pair of hands gently gripped her waist, guiding her feet back to solid ground.

“You know I can get down on my own, right, Skye?” Cedar teased, flashing a grin.

Skylar Hawthorne’s smile was warm, effortless. “Of course. I just have this nagging feeling you’re going to fall one of these days.”

Cedar rolled her eyes, though the lighthearted edge to her tone made it clear she wasn’t bothered. “Does that mean you’re going to keep catching me every time I do?”

“Yep.” Skylar released his hold on her waist and took a small step back, giving Cedar room to take him in.

Skylar had always been the kind of guy who made people feel at ease. His easygoing nature was reflected in the way he carried himself. His black hair was tousled just enough to look effortless, and his dark blue eyes, framed by his glasses, always held a warmth—as if he were ready to offer a quiet smile at any moment.

Cedar had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, even with her boots on. His height surpassed hers by a good few inches, but it wasn’t his height that stood out. It was the calm confidence he exuded as if he was perfectly content to be exactly who he was.

Cedar thought, with a fond smile tugging at her lips, that if there was one thing Skylar was never, it was intimidating.

Skylar watched her carefully, his blue eyes peeking out from behind his usual glasses. “You’re thinking about something,” he said, his tone teasing. “That can’t be good.”

Well, more like someone. But you don’t need to know that.

Cedar smirked. “Of course. I’m plotting to take over the world. Just waiting for the right time to execute my plans.”

As the swing carried Cedar higher, she let her eyes drift toward Skylar, standing at the edge of the clearing, his gaze following her every movement with a quiet affection. She could see the familiar warmth in his eyes, the kind that made her feel like she was the only person in the world who mattered in that moment.

A fleeting thought flickered in her mind—a quiet wish—that she could hold on to this feeling, this moment where everything was simple.

In her mind’s eye, she imagined him beside her on the swing. They’d share the breeze together, their laughter echoing in the crisp air, just like they had when they were younger. They would swing side by side, their feet brushing against the leaves on the ground, the sun casting dappled shadows over them. Cedar could almost hear the familiar rhythm of their laughter, both lighthearted, unburdened by the weight of unspoken words.

She imagined the way Skylar would look at her, his smile soft and easy. He’d nudge her playfully, laughing at something silly she said. Maybe they’d talk about the stupidest things, like the latest movie or a joke only they would understand, but it would be theirs, and it would feel perfect. It would feel like they had all the time in the world.

But the swing creaked as it reached its apex, and Cedar’s heart gave a soft tug—of yearning, of something deeper that she couldn’t quite name. It was fleeting, a wish that faded as quickly as it came.

She let the moment go, deciding to savor the present, not the dream.

With a deep breath, Cedar let her gaze drift back toward Skylar. He caught her eyes, his expression a quiet one that made her stomach flip—like there was something between them, something unspoken, but real all the same. She let her smile slip into something softer, a small, bittersweet smile that no one could read but herself.

“Alright, one more push,” she said, her voice light, as though she hadn’t just let herself imagine a whole other world where things were different.

Skylar obliged with a stronger push, and the tire spun faster, the rush of the wind making her feel weightless. But after a few moments, dizziness crept in, and she found herself giggling uncontrollably.

“You okay there?” Skylar asked, his voice concerned but still light.

“Yeah, but I think I wanna get down now,” Cedar responded, still laughing.

Skylar waited patiently for the swing to slow, taking hold of the rope to steady it. He offered her his hand, and she took it, sliding off the tire. Her feet hit the ground with a stumble, but she quickly regained her balance.

“Ready to head back?”

“If we have to,” Cedar groaned, though her smile betrayed her playful mood.

Skylar chuckled and started walking toward the edge of the clearing, never once letting go of her hand.

They walked through the woods in comfortable silence. Cedar couldn’t help glancing at their joined hands, her heart fluttering at the simple connection.

Did he forget he’s still holding my hand? she wondered, but the thought faded as she smiled to herself. She wasn’t about to say anything that might make him stop. Skylar’s hand was warm, and she savored the feeling, even if it was just a small moment in time. She set her gaze on the back of his head, the sunlight filtering through the trees and catching in his dark hair. It shone like silk, and for a moment, Cedar had the irrational urge to run her fingers through it.

The memory of the tire swing still swirled in her mind. The way she had felt so free, weightless, as if nothing in the world mattered except the simple joy of swinging with him. A soft sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she quickly brushed it aside, not wanting Skylar to hear.

Skylar seemed lost in his own thoughts as they walked, the familiar forest paths leading them back home. His fingers tightened around hers slightly, as if offering reassurance or maybe just the comfort of knowing they were in this together. Cedar stole another glance at him, her heart giving a soft, inexplicable thrum.

They neared the clearing that marked the edge of the woods. Skylar’s grip on her hand relaxed, and she felt a small pang of loss as he let go. For just a moment, she wished they could have stayed like that forever, walking hand-in-hand through the woods, no questions, no expectations. Just the quiet companionship of two people who understood each other without words.

Skylar stopped walking for a second and turned to face her, his brow furrowing as if he’d noticed something in her expression. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

Cedar’s heart raced, and she quickly masked her emotions behind a smile, hoping it didn’t look as forced as it felt. “Yeah, just thinking about... nothing,” she lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through it.

Skylar didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave her that easy grin that always made her feel like everything would be fine. “Alright, well, let’s keep going then. We’ve got homework waiting for us, and we both know how that goes.”

Cedar chuckled, grateful for his lighthearted nature. “Yeah, I guess so.”

As they walked toward the edge of the woods and the clearing that led home, Cedar found herself lingering in the moment, unwilling to let go of the connection that had briefly existed between them.

The old wooden porch creaked under Skylar’s weight as he reached the front door first, giving it a swift push to swing open. The faint scent of the outdoors, mixed with the earthy aroma of the forest, drifted in with the breeze as he stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

“Such a gentleman,” Cedar teased, her lips curling into a playful smile as she raised an eyebrow.

Skylar grinned, a twinkle in his eyes as he placed his hand over his heart in a mock dramatic bow. “Anything for the lady,” he said, his voice deepening for effect before he straightened up, his expression suddenly shifting. “Oh, wait! I left my backpack in the jeep. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright, I’ll grab us some snacks,” Cedar called after him, shaking her head with an affectionate chuckle as she watched him jog off toward the jeep, his long strides carrying him quickly down the path.

She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click, the familiar warmth of the house enveloping her. She kicked off her boots, the worn leather hitting the floor with a dull thud. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed against the smooth wood of the banister as she walked through the small entryway.

“Did you find her, Skylar?” Julia’s voice rang out from the living room, the soft hum of the television in the background.

Cedar grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “As he usually does.” Her voice was teasing, her words light, but the fondness in them was clear.

Julia glanced up from the couch, an amused glint in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting between Cedar and the door Skylar had just exited. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll fool him next time.”

Cedar chuckled and shook her head, turning to the kitchen. “We’ll see,” she replied, the teasing tone lingering in her voice. She moved past the archway, her footsteps soft against the cool wooden floor.

In the kitchen, Cedar went straight to the fridge. The faint squeak of the refrigerator door echoed as she opened it and pulled out the jar of strawberry jelly. The smell of the sweet fruit instantly filled the air. She moved to the cabinets next, rummaging around until she found the bread and peanut butter. Laying everything out on the counter, she took a moment to appreciate the quiet comfort of the kitchen, the place where she felt the most at home.

As she spread the peanut butter, she felt her mind drift to the homework ahead, already dreading the thought of American history. She quickly shook off the thought, her hands moving to the jelly. She pulled the knife through the thick spread, the sound of the blade cutting through the jelly almost soothing.

Just as she finished the second sandwich, Skylar’s familiar voice broke through her thoughts. “What’s on the menu, Cedar?”

She turned to find him leaning against the doorway, his backpack now slung over his shoulder. His dark blue eyes were warm as always, with a playful glint in them.

Cedar smiled, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “PB&J, of course. What else?”

Skylar gave a mock gasp. “How could you be so predictable?” He crossed the room and plopped down at the island, reaching for the nearest sandwich. “But, I guess it’s my favorite, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

She laughed, handing him the sandwich as she grabbed the plate of snacks. “Lucky you. I’m feeling generous today.”

Skylar winked at her as he took a bite. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to return the favor.”

They exchanged a knowing glance before Cedar turned toward Julia in the living room, offering her the last sandwich with a smile. “PB&J for you, too?”

Julia nodded, already absorbed in her book. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Cedar handed the sandwich to Julia with a smile, the last of the PB&J now wrapped in wax paper.

“Thanks, Cedar,” Julia called, her voice muffled slightly by the show she was watching.

“Of course. I’ll be upstairs,” Cedar replied with a casual wave as she turned toward the stairs. She could hear Skylar’s footsteps following behind her, and the sound of his light chuckle echoed through the hall.

“Race you?” Skylar challenged with a grin, holding his sandwich between two fingers.

Cedar shot him a mock glare over her shoulder. “You know you’ll win,” she said with a sigh, although the playful twinkle in her eyes said otherwise. “Just don’t take forever. I’m starving.”

Skylar grinned back. “No promises.”

They made their way up the stairs, their socks making soft thumps against the wooden steps. Cedar’s room was the next door on the left, tucked away at the end of the hallway. When they reached the top, Skylar gave her a light shove, causing her to stumble slightly, but she steadied herself against the doorframe and pushed it open.

Inside, Cedar’s room was a testament to her creative chaos. The desk, piled high with papers, notebooks, and art supplies, was barely visible beneath the clutter. The walls were covered in half-finished sketches, posters from concerts, and a few drawings she’d tacked up for inspiration. The faint smell of paint and old books lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of the fresh sandwich she still held in her hand.

“Your room’s a mess, Cedar,” Skylar commented, his voice tinged with amusement as he stepped inside, scanning the piles of papers on the desk.

“I know,” she said with a grin. “I’ve got big plans for a cleaning spree... eventually.”

Skylar rolled his eyes but said nothing, instead setting his sandwich on the edge of the desk before grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the small cluttered workspace. Cedar followed suit, moving a few books to the side to make space for herself. She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite, her eyes scanning the notebooks and papers spread across the desk.

“Did we forget something?” Cedar asked, looking over at Skylar’s sandwich, still wrapped in wax paper, and then noticing the space on her desk. “Oh, right—the plates.”

Skylar chuckled and looked over his shoulder. “And the bags of snacks.”

Cedar smiled sheepishly. “Guess we got too excited to start.”

“I’ll grab them,” Skylar said, standing up and heading back toward the door. “I’ll race you to the fridge.”

Cedar shook her head with a laugh. “You’re on.”

Skylar disappeared out the door, and Cedar took the opportunity to dig around her desk for her homework planner, mentally preparing for their study session. By the time Skylar returned, carrying the plates and a couple of snack bags, she was ready to tackle their Spanish homework.

“Mission accomplished,” he said, setting everything down on the desk.

Cedar gave him a grateful smile as she took the plate he offered. “Thanks.”

She dug into her sandwich as they both settled back into their chairs. The homework session resumed with the comfort of shared space and the familiar rhythm they’d fallen into so many times before. It wasn’t long before the cluttered desk was full of notebooks, textbooks, and snack wrappers, but Cedar didn’t mind. These moments with Skylar, in this chaotic but peaceful space, felt more important than anything else.

“Alright,” Cedar said, stretching her arms above her head after completing a difficult Spanish exercise. “I’m ready for a break. What about you?”

Skylar looked up from his paper, stretching in his chair. “I could use one. Got any more snacks?”

Cedar gave a mischievous smile, rummaging through the drawer next to her desk. “I might have a granola bar somewhere...” She pulled out a half-empty bag of pretzels instead, offering him a handful.

“Close enough,” he said with a smirk, reaching for the bag.

Cedar settled back into her chair, her gaze flicking over to the window. It was one of those lazy afternoons, the kind that dragged on but didn’t feel like a waste. Just Skylar, a cluttered desk, and the peace that came with being able to share moments like this.

************************************************

The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the window, casting a soft light over Cedar’s desk as she glanced over her corrected calculus homework, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I’m starting to get it now,” she murmured, adjusting her glasses as she reviewed her work.

“I would sure hope so, considering we went over the last question four times,” Skylar teased, leaning back against the wall with a lazy grin.

Cedar, feeling a playful spark of energy, grabbed a pillow from her bed and threw it at his head. “We only did that question twice!” she said, laughing as she tried to defend her honor.

Skylar effortlessly caught the pillow mid-air and tossed it back onto the bed, not missing a beat. “With how much time you spent on it, I could’ve sworn it was four times. Maybe five.”

Before Cedar could come up with a witty comeback, a loud ring shattered the lighthearted atmosphere. Skylar reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. He glanced at the screen, his expression faltering for a moment.

“Sorry, it’s my mom,” he said, his voice a little more guarded. “I’ll be right back.”

Cedar watched as Skylar stood, his easy grin now replaced with a hint of annoyance as he stepped into the hallway to answer the call. She shifted in her chair, picking up the pillow Skylar had tossed aside and setting it neatly on the bed. Her eyes flickered to the door of the hallway, wondering what the call was about. Leah usually didn’t call during study sessions.

From the hallway, she could hear Skylar’s voice, quiet but firm. “Yeah, I know…And by ready, you mean I need to be ready.”

Cedar’s brow furrowed as she stood up to gather her completed assignments. There was a change in his tone—a sharpness, an edge she didn’t usually hear. Her curiosity piqued, but she didn’t want to pry too much. Instead, she focused on packing her backpack, trying to shake the nagging feeling that something was off.

The next words were softer, almost hesitant, but still carried an edge of tension. “I’ll do what I can, but…” His voice trailed off

Unable to resist, Cedar stepped lightly toward the hallway, stopping just short of the door. She peeked around the frame to see Skylar leaning against the wall, gripping his phone tightly. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, and his expression flickered between frustration and something deeper—concern, maybe even sadness.

From where she stood, she couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but the quiet weight of his words lingered. “You’re not going to lose me.”

Cedar’s chest tightened at the sound of his voice. It was steady, but there was an undertone that made her stomach churn—a seriousness she wasn’t used to hearing from him.

Then his voice shifted again, quieter now but still resolute. “I get it, Mom. I’ll manage.”

Skylar exhaled sharply and leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes closing briefly as though he was trying to center himself.

Cedar hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. Her hand brushed against his arm as she passed, a soft, deliberate touch meant to ground him. “Hey,” she said quietly, her voice warm but light, as if she didn’t want to press too hard.

The effect was immediate. Skylar’s muscles, tense and rigid only a moment before, seemed to melt beneath her fingertips. His grip on the phone loosened, and his shoulders lowered just a fraction, the weight he carried visibly easing.

He turned his head to look at her, and in his eyes, Cedar caught a fleeting vulnerability—a crack in the armor he so carefully wore. His lips curved into a faint smile, one that seemed meant more for her than for himself.

“I’m good,” he said, though his voice was softer now, almost thoughtful. He gave her a small nod, as if to reassure her, but the way his gaze lingered spoke volumes.

Cedar returned his smile, though her curiosity burned as she stepped back into the room. She resumed packing her things but couldn’t shake the feeling that something important had just happened—something she wasn’t meant to know yet. She glanced toward the hallway again, hoping Skylar would talk when he was ready. For now, she’d wait, as she always did.

*********************************************************

Later, Cedar was downstairs, the rhythmic sound of running water filling the kitchen as she scrubbed the dishes from their snack. The clinking of plates was interrupted by footsteps behind her.

Skylar entered the kitchen, his shoulders relaxed, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He seemed more like his usual self, the earlier tension replaced by something more familiar.

“How’s Leah doing? Was everything okay?” Cedar asked, setting the dish she was cleaning down and glancing over her shoulder at him.

Skylar leaned against the counter, crossing his arms but watching her with a softness that Cedar had grown accustomed to. “Yeah, just the usual. My mom needs me at the station more often now that summer’s over. She wants me to increase my time there in the coming weeks.” He paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “It’s no big deal, just… you know how it is.”

Cedar nodded, though a small nagging feeling settled in her chest. She wondered if that’s all the call was about. Skylar’s earlier frustration hadn’t escaped her notice, but she didn’t press him. Instead, she turned back to the sink with a smile.

“Well, good news for you,” she said, excitement edging her voice. “I’m going to make spaghetti and meatballs tonight. And—get this—I’m making the meatballs from scratch!”

Skylar’s eyes lit up with interest. “From scratch? That’s impressive. How’re you gonna make ’em?”

Cedar grinned, pausing her hands in the soapy water as she explained. “I’ve got this idea for Italian meatballs, but I’ll need to play around with the spices to get them just right. It’s all about balance—some garlic, a bit of oregano, maybe some basil. I’m not sure yet, but I’ve got a plan.”

Skylar’s smile softened as he leaned slightly back against the counter, watching her with a look that made Cedar’s heart skip. She quickly focused on scrubbing a dish to distract herself from the fluttering in her chest.

“So, uh,” she said, trying to clear her head, “was it just about the station stuff, or...?”

Skylar tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting to something more reflective. “Yeah, mostly. She’s just trying to juggle everything now that summer’s winding down. You know how she is—never does anything by halves. But, I’ll manage.”

Cedar paused for a moment, her gaze flicking over to him. There was a subtle tension in his words, something unsaid. She could feel the weight of it, but she didn’t press, instead focusing on the task in front of her, the hum of the conversation swirling in her mind. Instead, she wiped her hands on a dish towel, glancing back over at him.

“You think your mom will mind if you stay for dinner?” she asked, leaning against the sink and giving him a playful side-eye. “I’d understand if she needed you home.”

Skylar shrugged casually, his grin widening. “It wasn’t that important that she needed me right away. I’m not missing out on your homemade meatballs.”

The sound of footsteps echoed from the living room, and Julia appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She’d been watching the two of them from the other room.

“Spaghetti and meatballs, huh?” Julia asked, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “What herbs are you thinking of using for the meatballs?”

Cedar chuckled, her nervous energy fading as the conversation shifted easily. “I was thinking of a little bit of basil, oregano... maybe some thyme?” She turned to Skylar, her grin widening. “What do you think? Should I try something else?”

Skylar raised an eyebrow in mock seriousness. “I think you’re going in the right direction.”

The evening passed by effortlessly, the warmth of the kitchen filling the space with good food, conversation, and the easy camaraderie they’d always shared.