Page 14 of I See You

"I’ve been feeling heavy this week," she admitted suddenly, her voice quiet but strained. "My chest, my head… everything just feels like too much."

Sevyn caught the ball with her foot, controlling it before she started doing small tricks of her own, keeping her focus on Jada.

"Like you’re carrying a weight that won’t let up?" she asked, careful with her words, knowing how fragile these moments were.

Jada nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah… it’s like I can’t outrun it."

Her voice wavered slightly, thick with emotion, but she kept her chin up, refusing to let the tears fall.

Sevyn kicked the ball back to her gently.

"You don’t have to outrun it," she said softly. "You just have to keep moving."

Sevyn could feel her emotions.

That was what made her so good at her job—she wasn’t just a therapist, she was an empath.

She could sense people’s pain without them ever having to say a word. Could feel the weight of their burdens as if they were her own.

When she was younger, it had been overwhelming.

Before she even understood what it was, she had moments where she would walk past strangers and suddenly feel an ache in her chest, an invisible sadness clinging to her until she broke down in tears. It wasn’t until she was a teenager that her mother finally sat her down and told her the truth.

She was an empath.

It was a gift, but one she had to learn how to control—how to use, rather than let it consume her.Now, she used that gift every single day in her career.

Andrightnow,standingonthatemptysoccerfield,shefelt everything Jada was too afraid to say out loud.

Sevynletthesilencestretchforamomentbeforespeaking,her voice soft, grounding.

"Then let’s not outrun it," she murmured. "Let’s move through it."

Jada’sgazeflickeredtohers,somethingunreadablebehindher eyes. But she nodded.

Theycontinuedpassingtheball,findinganeasyrhythm,their movements flowing with silent understanding.

SevynmotionedforJadatodribbledownthefield,andwithout hesitation—without fear—Jada took off.

And for the first time in a long time, she moved.

“Tell me what happened that night,” Sevyn said, her voice steady yet gentle.

They moved down the field in sync, Jada’s feet controlling the ball as they worked through different drills.

At first, there was no response—only the sound of the ball meeting the grass, the rhythmic tap-tap of each touch.

Then, Jada’s body tensed.

She kept dribbling, her eyes locked on the ball, focused—or trying to be.

“Wewerejust…havingfun,”shefinallymurmured.“Dancing, drinking. It was loud, but we didn’t care.”

Her foot stuttered slightly over the ball, but she recovered, exhaling sharply.

“And then—”

Her breath hitched. “The shots started.”

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