Chapter 5: Lost and Found
The morning after the storm was quiet—too quiet.
No wind, no rain, no thunder. Just the soft hum of dripping trees and the smell of damp earth. The sky was a pale, cloudy blue, and the world outside the cabin looked like it had taken a deep, healing breath.
I stood at the door, looking out.
The ground was wet and soft underfoot, the grass bent from the storm. Small puddles reflected the sky. It was beautiful, in a ruined sort of way.
Like me, I thought.
"Do you want tea?" Naledi asked behind me, her voice still raspy from sleep.
"Later," I said. "Can I help with something? Anything?"
She looked up from her kettle, surprised. "You sure?"
"I want to be useful."
She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. "We could use more firewood. The storm soaked most of what we had."
"I'll go get some," I said quickly, already grabbing her hoodie.
Naledi raised a brow. "You know the path?"
"I've watched you walk it. I'll be fine."
She didn't argue, but her eyes lingered on mine a second longer than usual. "Don't go far. Just follow the ridge."
I nodded. "I will."
I walked into the trees, taking slow steps, my shoes squelching in the wet grass. The forest looked different today. Quiet. Washed clean.
I bent down to pick a few sticks, feeling strangely proud as I collected them. Small things, I thought. Maybe I can still do small good things.
But I went further than I meant to. I wanted the dry ones deeper in the trees. The ones untouched by rain. I kept telling myself, just one more step, one more branch.
Until I looked up—and realized I had no idea where I was.
Panic rose instantly.
The trees looked the same in every direction. The wind picked up slightly, brushing past my ear like a warning.
I turned in a circle. "Okay. Okay. Don't panic," I whispered.
But I was already panicking.
The woods grew darker with each passing second, even though it was morning. Every shadow looked like a threat. Every snap of a branch sounded like a footstep.
My hands started to shake. The firewood fell from my arms.
"Naledi," I said softly. Then louder, "Naledi!"
No answer.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to no one. "I should've stayed close. I should've listened."
Back at the cabin, Naledi poured tea into two mugs, glancing out the window every few minutes. She stirred sugar into Zukhanyi's mug the way she always did now—sweet, because she knew she liked it that way.
But the minutes stretched.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
She walked to the doorway and scanned the trees.
Her heart sank. Something felt off.
She grabbed her coat, laced up her boots, and headed into the woods with a sharp focus in her eyes. Not panic—yet. Just urgency.
"Zukhanyi," she called calmly. "It's okay. Just answer me."
She walked faster, deeper, following broken grass and muddy prints.
I sat on a rock, arms around my knees, rocking slightly.
I didn't know how long I'd been there. I didn't even know which direction I came from anymore. The forest felt like it was swallowing me. My mind started to spiral.
What if I never make it back?
What if Naledi thinks I left?
What if I'm always the one who ruins the good things?
Then I heard her voice.
"Zukhanyi!"
I froze.
"Zukhanyi, answer me!"
I stood quickly. "Naledi! I'm here!" I screamed, tears filling my eyes. "I'm here!"
Branches snapped. She came into view, her coat soaked from brushing through trees. Her eyes met mine—and in them, I saw the fear she hadn't let me see before.
She ran straight to me and grabbed my face with both hands.
"You okay?" she asked.
I nodded, voice trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go far."
Her forehead pressed against mine as we both breathed fast.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered.
That made me cry harder. "I didn't want to be lost. I just... I wanted to do something right."
"You are something right," she said fiercely. "You, standing here, breathing—you are right."
For the first time, she held me.
Her arms wrapped around me so tightly I almost melted. Her hands moved gently across my back like she was making sure I was real. That I hadn't disappeared again.
"I've got you," she whispered. "And I'm not letting go."
We walked back together, slower this time. My hand never left hers.
When we returned to the cabin, she handed me my mug of tea without a word. I held it with both hands, trying to calm the thudding in my chest.
"I was so stupid," I said softly.
"No," she replied. "You're learning how to live again. That's not stupid."
We sat in silence for a while.
Then I asked the question I'd been holding in since the moment she found me.
"If I stayed... if I really stayed... would that be okay?"
She didn't answer right away. She reached out instead and tucked a loose curl behind my ear. Her fingers lingered at my jaw.
"Yes," she said. "You could stay for a while. Or forever. Whatever you need."
I smiled—small, scared, hopeful. "Forever sounds nice."