Chapter 2 - Chapter Two: Things we don't say

The hilltop was quiet, except for the faint hiss of cooling stone. The last comet shard still smoked in the grass, its glow pulsing as if it had a heartbeat of its own.None of them spoke. Rin, Joan, Michael, Michelle, Jericho, and Ezra stood shoulder-to-shoulder, all staring down at the fragments.Rin blinked, and for half a second he swore the shard looked back at him. It didn't just look *wrong*—it felt wrong. The longer Rin looked, the less the world made sense. Shapes bent. Edges shifted. For a moment he thought he saw something vast and endless inside the rock, but his mind recoiled, unable to shape it into words. He looked away before his brain split in two.Above them, the sky was still riven. Where the meteors had ripped through, the stars themselves seemed rearranged—whole constellations bent into shapes no one could name. The clouds glowed faintly green, lingering long after the last comet strike. It was as though the night itself had been rewritten.A voice barked behind them."Hey!"Officer Caine, only twenty-three but already carrying the weight of the badge in his voice, came climbing over the rise. His flashlight cut across their faces. He'd been chasing them for sneaking out again, but now his steps slowed. His beam caught the shard—and froze when he saw the sky split clean open almost like something had come through."What in..." His words dried in his throat.---They weren't alone for long. Engines roared below the hill. Black vans with no markings rolled to a stop at impossible speed, headlights flooding the slope. Men in sleek jackets with embedded insignias stepped out, each with identical badges stamped with the logo of a tech giant Rin only half-recognized from advertisements.Rin's first thought was that they didn't move like normal people—they were too in sync, like someone had pressed play on a machine. He hated how small that made him feel, like a bug waiting to be collected.The one in front didn't look surprised. He looked prepared*.*"Containment in progress," he muttered into a device on his wrist. "We'll take it from here, Officer."Caine's jaw clenched. "The hell you will. These are kids."The suited man didn't even acknowledge him. Others were already moving toward the shards, unfolding strange instruments that hummed with light.Rin swallowed hard. They were all still trembling, still haunted by the Divide they had just witnessed. Joan rubbed her arms as if to hold herself in place. Ezra was shaking visibly, whispering something to himself that no one could quite hear.Caine stepped in front of them, blocking the men in black. His hand brushed his holster, not as a threat but as instinct. "Backup's on the way," he said, his voice thin. "You're not cleared to—""Officer," the lead man finally looked at him, eyes cold and artificial. "Your *backup* was already rerouted. You'll stand down. This is no longer in your jurisdiction."The words sat wrong in Rin's stomach, like they weren't meant to be spoken aloud.Caine didn't move. Didn't trust them. But when he finally turned back, it was to herd the kids down the hill, away from the glow and the machines. His voice was softer now, fraying at the edges."Come on. Let's get you somewhere safe."Ezra lingered a moment, eyes locked on the shard. Rin caught the look—part terror, part hunger—and for a heartbeat he thought Ezra might run back. But then Ezra followed, and Rin looked back one last time at the humming machines. Whatever the men were doing to the fragments, it wasn't science. It was something else.---The police station was warm but sterile, buzzing with neon lights.The kids sat in the next room, quiet now except for the occasional scrape of a chair or Ezra's restless tapping. Caine stayed behind his desk, the fluorescent light overhead making his badge glint dully. He turned it over in his hands again and again, thumb pressing the metal until it hurt.The scene replayed in his head on a loop: the hill, the fractured sky, the comet-fire raining down. And then those men—black suits, black vans, black expressions—arriving *too fast.* Too coordinated. He muttered under his breath, half to himself, half to the empty room:*"What were they really doing there? And why Ashwell of all places...? This is supposed to be a quiet neighborhood."*The door swung open. Simone stepped in first, tossing her cap onto the nearest chair. Riley followed, clipboard under his arm, his face creased from stress."Whole bloody town's on edge," Simone said, brushing her hair back. "We had three separate panic calls about 'falling stars' and half the high street shut their shops early."Riley dropped into the seat opposite Caine and flipped through his notes. "But nothing on the scanners. No impact zones, no injuries. Just... hysteria. Like they saw something and then couldn't remember what it was."Caine rubbed his temples. "That's the thing. They *did* see something. We all did. And yet..." He trailed off, tapping his badge against the desk, the sound sharp in the silence.Simone frowned. "What exactly happened up there, Caine? Dispatch was confused—first you call for backup, then you wave us off and say you'll handle it.""I *thought* backup came." His eyes darkened. "Only it wasn't you. Wasn't any of ours. Some... tech giant types showed up out of nowhere. Claimed jurisdiction. Told me to keep my nose out.""Tech giant?" Riley raised a brow. "Like private contractors?""Like something worse," Caine muttered. He glanced toward the room where the kids sat, voices faint through the wall. "And if they were there before us... what does that mean for what really fell tonight?"Horizon. He'd only heard the name once before, whispered at the academy: "They show up when things break."For a moment, none of them spoke. The station felt too small, too hollow, as though even the walls were listening in.The silence stretched. Then the glass door opened, and Caine returned to the kids, carrying water.---Caine poured water into paper cups and pushed them across the table. Phones rang in the background as he called their parents one by one. The kids could hear his voice through the glass—calm, steady, professional—but his eyes betrayed unease whenever he glanced at them.Joan muttered, "My parents are going to kill me."Michael tried a weak laugh. "Better than what we just saw."Michelle hugged her arms close, whispering, "It's never going to feel normal again, is it?"Ezra broke first. His voice cracked through the silence."I saw it," he whispered. His hands trembled. "I saw what it *really* is. I—"Nobody remembered exactly what Ezra said next. The words slipped out of memory the moment they left his lips, like they didn't want to exist in the world, leaving only the crushing weight of their unspoken meaning. Later, they all would only recall the look on his face: half terror, half revelationCaine rubbed his forehead. "You've all been through a shock. Sometimes the brain... makes pictures that aren't there."Ezra's protest died on his tongue.The station doors opened one by one as parents arrived. Michael's parents swept him away quickly, barely offering polite nods—the Malikes never cared much for appearances.". Michelle's mother gave a tight smile, greeted no one, and whisked her daughter out as well barely even acknowledging anyone. Joan's parents arrived at the same time as Rin's, embracing both kids warmly—they lived in the same part of town and always treated them like family. Ezra's parents came last, hugging him tightly, whispering reassurances as if he had barely survived a fire.As Rin's family prepared to leave, he asked Joan quietly, "What did you see back there?"Joan's eyes flickered, but she shook her head. "Doesn't matter."Rin started to press, then sighed. "Never mind."Their parents finished speaking with the officers, all of them pretending the night had been nothing more than a scare. The kids followed that script, too. None of them spoke of what they had actually seen.The station air still clung to me when we finally left. I slid into the backseat of Dad's car, eyes heavy, brain heavier. Through the window, I caught Joan climbing into her dad's car, just a few steps away. A small relief settled in my chest when I noticed they were pulling out right behind us.I leaned my head against the glass. *I couldn't think straight.* The rift in the sky was still burned into my eyes, jagged and brilliant, refusing to fade. Even the dull rows of houses we sped past couldn't smother its afterglow.By the time we reached home, Joan's car rolled up almost alongside ours. We got out roughly at the same time, both moving slower than usual. I gave her a tired wave across the drive. She waved back, faint but steady. Dad exchanged a few quiet words with her parents, all forced smiles and worried tones. Then he turned, guiding me toward the door.And just like that, the night wasn't over yet.---Rin and his dad stepped through the door, the house was already filled with the sharp scent of garlic and sesame oil. Rin kicked off his shoes and practically bounced into the kitchen doorway."Mum, what's cooking? Smells amazing." He leaned against the frame, eyes hopeful at the spread on the table.His father set his coat on the back of a chair, tugged at his tie, and gave a satisfied sigh. "Mm. Smells like home. Your mother always outdoes herself."From the sink, his mother glanced over her shoulder, half-distracted by the dishes in her hands. "Oh, no, not me tonight." She flicked a smile. "This was all your daughter's work."Rin froze. "Wait—*Heylin*?!"Right on cue, Heylin emerged from the kitchen with a plate balanced in her hands. "Careful, it's hot," she said brightly, setting it in front of their father.Rin nearly fell over in mock despair. "Who let her in the kitchen after what happened *last time*?""Hey! I heard that." Heylin shot back, flicking her hair over her shoulder as if she hadn't just been accused of culinary crimes.Their dad chuckled, already digging in. "Tastes fine to me." He gave his daughter a proud nod. "Better, even. You've improved." ""Thank you," Heylin said smugly, her gaze daring Rin to disagree."Rin slumped into his chair, muttering under his breath. "World's ending, and somehow *this* is what gets me first."Heylin smirked. "Don't worry, little brother. I didn't poison it—this time , at least"The smell of sesame oil and garlic clung to the air as Rin's sister slid steaming dishes onto the table. Bowls of kimchi, japchae, and doenjang-jjigae filled the space, all carefully prepared despite her grumbling that no one appreciated her cooking."You'd think you almost died," she teased, plopping into her seat across from Rin, chopsticks already in hand. "Mom was this close to letting me be an only child."Rin scowled, half embarrassed, half amused. "I didn't almost die. We just... saw something."His sister cocked a brow, scooping rice. "Uh-huh. Well, next time you go chasing falling stars, maybe take your brain with you."Their father cleared his throat, breaking the rhythm of their bickering. "It's not funny." His voice was firm, but his eyes lingered on Rin with worry rather than anger. "The world isn't the same as when I came to London, son. Back then, I thought every new skyline was the future. But futures... they're fragile. They can change faster than you think."The table went quiet for a beat. Even Rin's sister stopped chewing.She leaned back, trying to lighten the mood. "Fragile futures, huh? That's Dad-speak for 'don't get yourself killed, idiot.'"Their mom let out a soft sigh, brushing her hair from her face. "Leave him be. He already has enough to carry." She gave Rin a long look, as if she wanted to say more, but turned her attention back to the food.Rin's chopsticks hovered above his bowl. He didn't taste the food after that, not really. The words "fragile futures" lodged in his chest.It was their father who finally said it outright. "The men you saw? They're Horizon. They've been... busy in places no one talks about. And if they're in Ashwell now..." He didn't finish, just let the words hang in the air.Rin shifted in his seat, unease curling in his stomach. His sister kicked him lightly under the table. "Well, guess you're grounded from stargazing.""Maybe you should be, I don't know, trying to get into college early like me," she added, smirking. "At least then you'd get in trouble for real things—like skipping lectures, not dodging meteors." Rin groaned and threw a napkin at her, declaring his intention to go to bed.---Later that night, Rin lay awake. Through the wall he heard his parents arguing softly, his father's voice low, his mother's sharp. Then Heylin barged in, arms crossed."Stay in for a while," she said. "Don't go chasing meteors." Her smile faded as quickly as it came.When the house quieted, Rin whispered into the dark:*"Hope Michelle's mom doesn't go too hard on her. Wasn't her fault the sky fell.*Sleep came eventually, heavy and uneasy. But as he drifted off, Rin felt it—something out there, still watching.When the house finally quieted, he stared at the ceiling. The visions pressed against his mind—the impossible shapes, the fracture in the sky. He recalled Ezra shaking, Michelle's silence, Joan's refusal, Michael's nervous laugh. He yawned, whispering to himself: "Hope Michelle's mom doesn't go too hard on her. Wasn't her fault the sky fell."Sleep took him, heavy and uneasy. And as each of them drifted off across town, they shared the same lingering thought—*something saw them too.*Ashwell would never be boring again.---The next week, school resumed—their only chance to see each other again after days trapped under watchful parents. Rin practically leaped down the stairs that morning, not from eagerness for class but for something more than the blank stare of his bedroom wallpaper. His dad waited in the car, sipping coffee, and gave him a side glance as Rin slid into the seat."You've been quiet," his dad said after a moment, pulling out of the driveway. "Reminds me of when I first came to London. Nerves had me tied up for days." He chuckled softly, trying to bridge the silence. "But you'll be fine. You always are."Rin barely heard him. His thoughts were on the others—Joan, Michael, Michelle, Ezra. He tilted his head against the window, eyes tracing the familiar hill they had stood on that night. The sight made his stomach twist, but he couldn't look away.When they reached the academy, Rin had already popped the door open before the car even stopped. "Yh, bye Dad, love you too!" he tossed over his shoulder, dashing toward the gates.His father's reply got cut off by Gus, the gateman, who chuckled. "Haven't seen him in a while. His squad's always stirring trouble."Rin's dad gave a half-smile, waving as he pulled away. *Just be safe, Rin,* he thought to himself.---The classroom door creaked open. "Glad you decided to join us, Rin," Mr. Marley, his homeroom teacher, said dryly. Rin was ten minutes late.Eyes scanned the room, and Joan—who had been staring at his empty seat—looked up sharply. Rin gave a quick half-smile. "Sorry for the omission," he muttered, sliding into his chair. Michael, seated behind him, tapped his shoulder with a grin."Finally released, huh?""You don't even know the half of it," Rin replied under his breath."Alright, settle down," Mr. Marley said, pulling test sheets from a stack. The class groaned collectively. Michael paled. "That was today?!" he hissed. Joan flopped dramatically against her desk. "Guess this is the end for me." Mr. Marley pinched the bridge of his nose. "What am I going to do with you kids..."---Later, during break, the group finally managed to meet at their usual spot: a small Italian food joint tucked between their schools. It was their place, familiar and safe.Rin was the first to speak once they were seated. He turned to Michelle, his expression guilty. "I'm sorry. You probably had it the worst."Michelle rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "You don't even know the half of it. My mum gave me the *full* African mother talk.""Yikes," Joan said, wincing. "The one time you come out with us, and now we all look like backwater kids corrupting you." She leaned back in her chair, staring off toward the horizon.Michael twirled his fork lazily. "What about you, Ezra? You looked worse than any of us."Ezra turned slowly, like his attention had been somewhere far away. "I'm okay. Just... shook, that's all."Rin caught the hesitation, the way Ezra's words seemed pulled from deep water. Their eyes met across the table, and for a moment it felt like Ezra was trying to communicate something without speaking. Rin wasn't sure what, but it left him uneasy.The food arrived. Michael cheered. "Finally. I'm starving. My parents put me on some weird diet—like I got hurt or something."Joan raised an eyebrow. "Classic Malike's."Rin grinned through a mouthful of macaroni. "At least I can drown my sorrows in this. I almost died of boredom. How'd you even find this place, Ezra?" he said with pieces of pasta between his front teethEzra twirled his spaghetti. "Michelle and I have a classmate. Thalia. Her family owns it—Giovanni's.""Yeah," Michelle added. "She's a grade above us. Chill girl."Joan perked up. "Think they'd let me play here sometime? I could bring my guitar."Michael groaned. "I miss this. Too bad our little encounter probably killed our hangouts for weeks—maybe months."Ezra's voice cut in, lower than before. "We definitely need to go back. Something about that night... the way those suits showed up. I saw something, you know. I—never mind."Rin leaned forward. "What did you see?"Ezra's lips tightened. "You wouldn't understand." He pushed his plate away. "Break's almost over anyway. We should go.""Yare yare..." Michael sighed, dragging himself up as they shuffled back toward their schools.---"Days bled to weeks. Weeks into months. Leaves browned, snow dusted the streets, flowers returned. But Ashwell never truly settled back into itself, forever changed in ways too subtle to quantify. Street names shifted. Landmarks stood where Rin swore they hadn't before. People remembered events differently, their pasts subtly rewritten. On television, scientists debated the "Skyfall Material," some labeling it the **Aegis**, a force actively restructuring memory to match a new reality. Social media overflowed with shaky footage, wild theories, and frantic warnings. Governments promised containment; corporations, progress."Yet people whispered of lost days. Families argued over whether a relative had ever existed. Déjà vu became epidemic, and large-scale Mandela Effects grew more common.---Through all this, Ezra grew... different.He still laughed with them, still played the part of their friend. But Rin noticed his long silences. His late nights scribbling into a notebook no one else was allowed to see. The way he stared into mirrors too long, as if waiting for his reflection to betray him.Officer Caine wasn't much better. He still wore the uniform, still chased down small-town mischief. But at night, the Divide returned in flashes: a world unspooling like film, faces folding inside out, memories that weren't his. He began noticing cracks where others looked away.And Rin—he carried his own secret. He had seen something he could not explain, not even to himself. A future, maybe. A truth, maybe. But his mind refused to hold it in place. It hovered always at the edge of language, slipping away when he reached for it.So he said nothing. Like the others, he wore the mask of normalcy.---Now Approaching sixteen, the five friends were older, taller, their lives seemingly ordinary. But under it all, the silence remained. Each had seen something that night on the hill. None had spoken of it.And Ezra... Ezra was almost ready to break.