"Do you think we'll ever make it out?" She had asked. I still remember her voice when she said it. It was weak, like she didn't believe that she would ever make it out alive. Oh, how I wanted to prove her wrong.

"Of course we will. We're not bound to be stuck here forever, Mal. We will leave this place someday." I had answered, though I was uncertain too.

"Newt—"

I hesitated. Breathed in, then out. Shakily, with no trace of steadiness in me. "I don't know. I'd like to believe we will, but—" I paused. I remember looking at her face as I said that. Seeing her features stiffen, her jaw tightening. Not from anger, no. She was trying to hold back her tears. She always was. "I'll find a way."

"Find a way?" She scoffed, like she wasn't fighting tears just now.

"Exactly. Do you think I'll let you stay here? If it was just me, I wouldn't care. I'd even rot in here too, probably. Not you though. You have to make it out. You are too bright for this hell." I smiled, trying to lighten up her mood. It didn't work.

"I know what happened yesterday."

My throat had tightened, looking at her once again. "What?" I had choked out, my voice coming out in a hoarse whisper.

"I wanted to stop them. I swear I tried. But—"

"No, no it's not—" I paused, my eyes, wide as ever, darting on her face. "It's not your fault. You know that."

"Do they do that often?"

"No," I said, pausing for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Maybe."

She didn't say anything else. She didn't have to. I knew we both were going through it, but neither of us has energy, nor the will to speak about it.

​​・・・・・​​⟢

I knelt at the edge of the dirt like the world had cracked beneath me, like the ground itself was holding back all the weight I carried. The name carved into the stone—Maliah Selwyn—was a sharp cut through the silence, a quiet that stretched far beyond the edges of the graveyard. It was too still, too empty. The air tasted like regret and something older, something heavier I couldn't shake.

Her name wasn't just letters. It was a life. A light that had been swallowed whole by this cold earth, a story that ended too soon, a voice I never learned how to truly hear. I reached out like maybe the dirt could whisper back, maybe the roots tangled beneath could remind me of what was lost. But the silence held firm.

I remembered how she laughed—soft, like a secret almost too fragile to be caught. How her hands trembled when she tried to hide it. How she was always the quiet in the storm, the steady when everything else fell apart. And here I was, kneeling like a coward, left behind with nothing but the ache of a name and the ghost of what could have been.

"You shouldn't be here. Not you." I told her, in a voice raw and cracked, because the world wasn't meant to swallow her whole. It was supposed to be a place where she could breathe, where she could live. Instead, this grave was the only place she found rest.

There was a hunger inside me—a fierce, terrible hunger—to undo every moment that led here. To rewind time and catch her before the darkness took hold. I could taste the bitterness on my tongue, the poison of being the one left standing while she lay beneath the soil.

"I should have been the one," I said, the words breaking free like a confession I'd buried too long. "I should have carried her pain. I should have taken the fall. Because she didn't deserve this." I looked up, meeting Gally's eyes for a second.

"Neither did you. Neither did any of us, Newt. But we have to be strong for the ones who never made it out."

"She would've done something. She would stay firm on her ground, make a change in this lousy world. I did nothing. I wasted my life away. I wasted away."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be free." He said, his voice holding steadiness as he always did. Even when he was about to fall apart, he was still composed. Strong. Firm. I aspired to be like that, but in the end, I turned out to be nothing more than just a coward. A person who's afraid to feel something. "We've all done something we're not proud of. Do you think I was in good shape when I first left? I wasn't. All I wanted was to just sit in silence, not speaking, not moving. I didn't even want to breathe. It was too much work for me."

"Were you alone?"

"No. No, I wasn't alone, I had my friends. I live with one of them, still. But you have friends too, don't you? You're not alone either."

"How would you know?"

"My friend, Alby, he knows Minho. That's how I found your number."

The sky stretched wide above me—too vast, too empty. And I thought how small we all are beneath it. How fragile the promise of life can be. And yet, here I was, still breathing, still haunted by the echo of a name that didn't belong to a ghost.

I wondered if she saw me from wherever she was now, if she knew how much it hurt to stand here and feel hollow where her laughter used to live. I wondered if she could forgive me for surviving when she didn't. For carrying the weight of a world that had broken her.

"I'd like to believe she's looking at us right now. Seeing that we didn't forget her. You wouldn't forget her, would you?"

"Do you think I searched for months just for you? She was my friend too, Newt. Having her was the closest I had ever come to being happy."

"You loved her," I said in realization, my face shifting.

"I did. From afar, but I did."

The wind brushed past me then, cold and sharp, like a reminder that some things are meant to be felt, even if they burn. And I let the tears come—not just for her, but for the silence she left behind. For the words I never said. For the love that still clung to me like a shadow I couldn't outrun.

I lowered my eyes, looking at her stone again.
"I cared about you," I whispered into the earth, voice trembling like it might shatter the stone. "More than I ever knew how to show. More than I ever knew how to say."

My hand pressed against the dirt, rough and real, and for a moment, I believed I could touch the part of her that still lingered—soft and stubborn and alive, somewhere beyond the finality of this place.

"I'll carry you with me," I promised, the weight of it settling deep in my bones. "Not just in memory, but in every breath I take. Every step I make. Even when it feels like the world wants to forget. I'll carry you until I'm able to rest beside you too."

​​・・・・・​​⟢

We were sitting at a nearby cafe, silently staring at the table as if starting a conversation was the hardest task to be achieved.

And it was. It was impossible to have a conversation without reopening wounds of each other, because what we had endured, together or alone, left scars. Huge scars. And they weren't healed either, no. Not really. We just made ourselves believe that they healed. I didn't even do that.

I heard Gally sigh, and I looked up, hopeful that he would break this awful silence. "Do you remember when she cut up my clothes once?" He scoffed, trying to sound steady.

"Yeah..." a faint smile crossed my face. "I played a part in it too,"

He raised an eyebrow, smiling back. "Oh you did huh?"

"My duty was to distract you" I grinned, leaning against my chair. "She was mad because you stole her hair tie."

"A what?" He looked at me, dumbfounded. "Take a close look at me. Why the hell would I need her hair tie?"

"I see it on your wrist, cut it out." I rolled my eyes, but a small smile still crept up on me.

He looked down on it, chuckling. "When did that get here?"

I leaned in, taking a closer look at it. "It still looks the same. Aren't you a bit too tough for a ladybug hair tie?"

"Maybe I love ladybugs."

"Mh, I doubt that."

"No, I do. Maliah once told me that they were her favorite. She told me that she used to have ladybug tights. I promised to buy one for her when we'd get out."

"Oh you big softie," I chuckled, but my stomach tightened. "You really did love her."

"You have no idea," he sighed, leaning back against his chair. "I tried my best to give her some hope. I didn't care if I'd make it out, not really. My life was already over before that camp. But Maliah, she had hopes. She had dreams. She needed to get out."

My face softened. I was no longer smiling, and my heart felt heavy. Heavier than all the stars that died before we could wish on them.

"Did she ever talk about me?" He asked carefully.

"If I tell you, your grief will worsen."

"She loved me too." He choked out in realization, his shoulders slumping.

Silence passed between us again. I stared at the table, breathing slowly.

"She actually felt bad about your clothes." I blurt out, not taking my gaze off the table.

"What?"

"Yeah. She then said that it must've been the only thing you had in this camp, and she destroyed it."

"She didn't destroy it. She just made them a bit more... girly."

"Girly?" A laugh escaped my mouth as I looked up at him.

"Well my shirt was cropped and the neckline had been cut off too. It wasn't ruined though. Still wearable. No one cared what we wore there anyway, everyone was trying to survive."

"Woah, okay then. I hope she can hear this."

"Then she'd hear my confession, too."

"Exactly." I grinned again, sipping my coffee that had been untouched since we got them.

"Well then. I want a sign in return." He chuckled, glancing down at the hair tie snug around his wrist. "Imagine this thing just... magically glows or something."

I laughed, a real laugh, the kind that makes your ribs ache a little. "Yeah, okay. The universe's version of subtle."

But then I paused, my eyes catching something. "Wait. Look." I nudged my coffee cup toward him.

There, right on the rim, a tiny ladybug crawled—slow, steady, completely out of place.

His laughter faded. He leaned closer, eyebrows lifting, eyes narrowing like he couldn't quite believe it.

"I don't believe in miracles," he said quietly, gaze still locked on the bug. "But I'd like to think this is her."

We sat in silence, the air heavier now—but not in a bad way. Like something sacred had just passed between us.

The ladybug stopped, turned toward him, and without hesitation, flew—landing gently on the inside of his wrist, just above the hair tie.

He didn't move. Barely breathed. Then, he swallowed, his shoulders stiff, his jaw tight. "Okay," he choked out, breathing in sharply. "That's good enough."

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Hi loves!

I hope you're enjoying this fanfic so far. I'm excited to slowly be reaching an end, but also sad. It's the first fanfic I haven't given up on, and this is really important for me.

I'd appreciate feedback. I really want to know everyone's thoughts, even if you haven't commented on any chapters before now. It really does give me so much motivation to do everything, besides just writing this fanfic.

Take care and have a good day!