The night was cold.

Colder than Caleb expected.

Elyra shivered in his arms, her frail body barely generating warmth against the chill of the air. He tightened his grip around her, feeling the sharp edges of her bones beneath her thin clothes.

She was light. Too light.

As if she were already fading.

Caleb pushed the thought away, focusing on the empty road ahead. The house behind them had disappeared into the darkness, and with it, the years of suffering, of cruelty, of silence.

But the real battle was just beginning.

"Where… are we going?" Elyra murmured against his chest.

Caleb glanced down. Her eyes were barely open, exhaustion clinging to her like a shadow.

"To the ocean," he said softly.

A small, tired smile touched her lips. "You’re serious about that?"

"I meant what I said," he whispered. "We’ll see it. Together."

She hummed in response, her breathing shallow but steady.

The nearest coastline was hours away, and without a car or money, he had no idea how they were going to get there. But he didn’t care.

They would make it.

Somehow.

His feet ached from walking. He had been carrying Elyra for miles now, unwilling to let her struggle, unwilling to see her in pain. But his body was growing weaker with every step.

Then, as if fate had decided to show mercy, he spotted a dimly lit gas station ahead.

A plan formed in his mind.

The gas station was nearly empty, save for an old man sitting behind the counter, his face buried in a newspaper. A single truck was parked outside, its owner nowhere in sight.

Caleb carefully set Elyra down on a bench near the entrance, making sure she was comfortable before stepping inside. The warmth of the store was a sharp contrast to the freezing air outside, and he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

The old man barely glanced at him.

Caleb’s stomach twisted. He had nothing—no money, no food, no way to get Elyra what she needed. But he had to try.

He approached the counter. "Excuse me, sir."

The old man grunted, flipping a page.

"I—" Caleb hesitated. "I need help."

That got his attention. The man peered over the newspaper, his gaze scanning Caleb up and down.

"You look like you’ve been running from something," he muttered. "Or someone."

Caleb swallowed. "I just… need a ride."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "A ride where?"

"To the coast," Caleb said. "Anywhere near the ocean."

The old man snorted. "That’s a long way from here, kid."

"I know," Caleb admitted. "But I have no other choice."

The man studied him for a long moment, then shifted his gaze toward the glass door, where Elyra sat, her head leaning weakly against the bench.

"She sick?" he asked.

Caleb clenched his fists. "Yeah."

The old man sighed, rubbing his face. "Look, I don’t usually do favors, but I might know someone heading that way."

Caleb’s breath caught. "Really?"

The man nodded toward the truck outside. "Belongs to a guy named Tom. He’s a delivery driver—drives through the night. If you’re lucky, he might let you hitch a ride."

Caleb’s heart pounded.

It was a chance.

A small one, but a chance nonetheless.

"Thank you," he whispered, then rushed outside.

Tom was a middle-aged man with tired eyes and a cigarette hanging from his lips. He listened as Caleb explained their situation, his face unreadable.

Then, without a word, he glanced at Elyra.

She was barely awake, her body slumped against the bench, her breathing too shallow.

Tom sighed, flicking his cigarette away. "Get in the back."

Caleb’s eyes widened. "You mean—"

"Yeah, yeah," Tom grumbled. "I ain’t heartless. But keep your sister warm, alright? It’s a long drive."

Caleb didn’t waste another second. He lifted Elyra gently, carrying her to the truck. She barely stirred as he settled her into the passenger seat, wrapping his jacket around her thin frame.

Tom climbed in, started the engine, and without another word, they were on the road.

Caleb glanced at Elyra.

Her eyes fluttered open for just a moment.

"Caleb…" she whispered.

He brushed her hair back gently. "I’m here."

A small smile ghosted her lips. "Thank you."

Tears burned his eyes.

"Rest," he murmured. "We’re going to make it."

And for the first time, he allowed himself to believe it.

They were going to make it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...