*CHAPTER THREE*
*Shadows in the Light*
Leo's apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of his old record player. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room, wrapping around us like a whisper from the past.
He moved around like he belonged to some other time—slow, careful, as if each step held a memory he was trying not to disturb.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, finally breaking the silence.
I shook my head, trying to steady my voice. "You didn't. I just... wasn't expecting company."
He laughed softly. It wasn't quite a laugh. More like a sigh that had been waiting to escape.
"You look tired," he observed.
"I am," I admitted.
"Maybe that's why you paint. To make sense of the mess."
His words hit closer than I wanted to admit. I looked at him—really looked—and saw the weight behind those dark eyes.
"Why Jonah's song?" I asked again, needing to understand.
Leo hesitated, then whispered, "Because sometimes, the music remembers what we try to forget."
My heart clenched. He was carrying something heavy. Something raw. And I wanted to know if I could help—or if I'd only get lost in the dark with him.
He gestured toward a worn armchair. "Sit?"
I nodded, settling into the chair. The cushions were firm, the fabric rough against my skin, but it felt grounding.
He poured two cups of tea from a kettle that had been quietly steaming on the stove. The aroma of chamomile filled the air.
"Do you always play records at 3 a.m.?" I asked, accepting the cup.
"Only when sleep won't come," he replied, taking a seat across from me.
We sipped in silence, the music weaving between us.
"Jonah loved this song," I said, more to myself than to him.
Leo nodded. "He introduced me to it."
I looked up, surprised. "You knew him well?"
He stared into his cup. "Well enough to miss him."
The room felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words.
"Tell me about him," Leo said gently.
I hesitated, then began. "Jonah was... light. He had this way of making everything feel possible. When things got dark, he'd pull me out. He was my anchor."
Leo listened intently, his gaze never leaving mine.
"He sounds like someone worth knowing," he said softly.
"He was," I whispered.
A pause stretched between us.
"I wish I could've done more," Leo murmured.
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
He looked away. "I was there... the night he died."
My breath caught. "You were?"
He nodded. "We were supposed to meet. He never showed."
I felt a surge of emotion—confusion, anger, sorrow—all tangled together.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't know how," he admitted. "I didn't want to add to your pain."
I stood, pacing the room. "You knew him. You were there. And you said nothing?"
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely audible.
I turned to face him. "I need to know everything."
He nodded slowly. "I'll tell you. But it's not easy."
"I don't care," I said firmly. "I need the truth."
He took a deep breath. "Jonah was involved in something... complicated. He didn't tell you because he wanted to protect you."
I felt tears prick my eyes. "Protect me from what?"
Leo hesitated. "From people who wanted to hurt him. People who might want to hurt you."
I sank back into the chair, overwhelmed.
"I should go," I said, standing.
Leo reached out, gently touching my arm. "Please. Stay. Let me explain."
I looked at him, searching for answers in his eyes.
"Okay," I whispered. "But start from the beginning."
*To be continued...*