Page 26 of Hidden Echoes

“Yeah, big pretzels and... all kinds of snacks. And yes, people go there, but you might have to fight a few teenagers for the last pair of shoes.”

Her eyes widen in awe. “People fight over shoes?! This world is insane!” She laughs, her voice a little too loud, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief at how much she’s missed out on.

“Yeah, it can be pretty wild,” I reply, still chuckling. “But hey, if we ever find one of those squirrel armies, I’ll make sure we get matching shoes before the battle.”

Mia grins like she just unlocked a new level of understanding. “Deal. And if we find that mall... I’m getting the biggest pretzel ever. I’ll fight for it if I have to.”

I shake my head, the tension finally slipping away, and for the first time in what feels like forever.

As the car fills with her quiet laughter and the faint melody of another song, I steal a glance at her—this strange, fascinating girl who’s turned my world upside down.

She looks up at me, and for a split second, there’s a shadow of something in her eyes—a flicker of recognition. It's gone so fast, I almost wonder if I imagined it.

But in that moment, we’re connected in some strange, unspoken way.

Who would’ve thought I’d end up driving to Los Angeles with someone who spent most of her life trapped in a basement? The thought presses heavily against my chest, a strange mix of disbelief and unease.

And yet, here she is—Mia—swaying her head to the rhythm of the music, as though the world is a bright, promising place just waiting to be explored.

Her sudden voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What are the beaches like? Are they like in the movies? You know, with white sand and crystal-clear blue water?”

I can’t help but smile, her excitement oddly infectious. “Some beaches are like that,” I say. “Others… not so much. It depends on where you go. But the water is always a big part of the experience. And the sunsets?” I pause, letting the memory settle in my mind. “They’re… different.”

“Different how?” she presses, her curiosity insatiable.

“It’s hard to explain. When you’re there, watching the sun dip below the horizon, it’s like everything slows down. The world feels calmer somehow, like it’s handing you a moment of peace.”

Mia leans back into her seat, her expression softening as she imagines it. “I think I’m going to like that,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

Her world has been so small, so confined, that even the simplest things feel monumental to her.

She breaks the silence, her voice suddenly filling the car again. “What else is there?”

I glance at her briefly. “What do you mean?”

“In Los Angeles. Besides the ocean and the traffic. What else will we see?”

A flicker of excitement stirs in me—an unfamiliar feeling, but not unwelcome. “Do you want me to show you?” The words are out of my mouth before I’ve even fully processed them.

Her eyes widen, bright with surprise. “Seriously?”

I nod, catching her enthusiasm. “Yeah. I’ve got some things I need to handle when we first get there, so it might not be right away. But after that, I can take you to see the city—and the ocean.”

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice brimming with excitement. Her joy is so pure, so unfiltered, that I can’t help but feel it too.

And for reasons I can’t quite put into words, I find myself smiling—not just for her, but for me.

Because maybe, just maybe, this journey isn’t just about showing Mia the world. Maybe it’s about finding my way back to it, too.

CHAPTER 7

MIA

The perception of realityis often something abstract to me. It's not that I don't want to live in it.

It's because sometimes it escapes me in a way I don't really know what is real and what is not.

I'm not always like this though. Sometimes I just feel… fine. Others like interaction with humans seems like an impossible thing, something foreign like a whisper of a ghost.

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