Page 62 of Hidden Echoes

I keep walking, needing distance from the beach, from the noise. The sidewalk beneath my feet becomes my focus. I count every step, trying to drown out everything else.

One, two, three, four…

A soft voice cuts through the chaos.

“Are you okay?”

I freeze. Turning, I see Andi standing there, her face filled with quiet concern. She must have followed me.

“I…” The words feel stuck in my throat.

She doesn’t press, just watches me for a moment before speaking again. “Sorry about earlier. I think my friend scared you. She can be a little… intense, but we didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She hesitates, then offers gently, “Can I walk with you? You look like you need some time alone, but… I won’t push if you don’t want company.”

I hesitate. My first instinct is to refuse. To go back to the apartment, close the door, and let silence swallow me whole. But another part of me—a part I barely recognize—doesn’t want to push her away.

“…Okay,” I murmur, almost too quiet to hear.

Andi doesn’t say anything more, just falls into step beside me. She doesn’t try to force conversation, doesn’t ask probing questions. And for some reason, that helps.

We walk for a while in comfortable silence, and just as I start to feel my breathing even out, she speaks.

“You know,” she says casually, “some of us are heading to a bonfire tonight. Just a small thing—drinks, music, nothing crazy.” She gives me a playful look. “You should come.”

“I don’t know,” I admit, shifting Figaro in my arms. “I’m… not really good with crowds.”

“That’s okay,” she replies, unbothered. “You don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to. Just sit by the fire, have a drink, watch the waves. No pressure.”

I chew my lip. Part of me wants to immediately say no. But another part—a part that remembers the suffocating loneliness of my old life—hesitates.

“…Maybe,” I say finally.

She grins. “I’ll take that.”

Her friend calls her name from down the street, and Andi gives Figaro a small pat on the head before stepping away.

“See you around.”

“Bye, Andi. It was… nice meeting you.”

As Andi turns to leave, she suddenly pauses, glancing back at me with a small smile.

“Actually, give me your phone for a sec.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Why?”

“So you can text me if you decide to come tonight,” she says matter-of-factly. “That way, we can meet up before, and I can make sure no one overwhelms you.”

I hesitate. Letting someone else into my space—into my world—still feels strange. But before I can overthink it, Andi gently plucks my phone from my hand, quickly typing something before handing it back.

“There.” She taps the screen, showing me the new contact saved under Andi :). “Now you don’t have an excuse to just disappear.”

I stare down at the screen, the name feeling oddly warm in my hands. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes something stir inside me.

Andi steps back, giving me one last glance. “No pressure, Mia.”

She walks off, disappearing around a corner, and I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

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