The morning rose heavy and colorless, as if the sun itself woke with a burden on its back. Elias stepped out of his shelter with the same weight pressing down on him. The island no longer felt like a quiet prison. It felt like a question he couldn't answer.
He walked slowly along the shoreline, the cold water licking at his ankles. Every now and then he looked over his shoulder, half‑hoping, half‑dreading the sight of another figure. But the beach remained empty, wide and silent except for the soft hiss of the tide.
The bracelet hung from his fingers. He had kept it with him since the night before, unable to leave it behind. It felt like a connection to someone lost in the same darkness he knew too well.
He stopped walking when he reached a cluster of rocks jutting from the sand. Something was carved into one of them. At first, it looked like random scratches, worn down by wind and water. But when he knelt closer, he saw letters.
Not clear. Not recent. But letters.
A name.
He whispered it aloud, letting it settle in the air around him.
"Lina."
The waves answered him, washing against the rock with a tired sigh.
He didn't know who she was. But he knew she mattered to someone. Maybe the person who carved that sentence into the tree. Maybe the one who dropped the bracelet. Maybe both.
For the first time since coming to the island, Elias felt something new rising in him.
He felt responsible.
He headed back into the forest, following the same path that led him to the hidden shelter. The air grew colder the deeper he went, shadows stretching across the ground like reaching hands.
As he reached the clearing, he noticed something that hadn't been there before.
A small pile of twigs arranged neatly in a circle, like someone trying to build a fire. Next to it lay a bundle of leaves tied together with a strip of fabric.
Someone had been here.
Recently.
Elias felt his chest tighten. He crouched beside the twigs, touching them gently. They were dry. Fresh. No more than a day old.
He stood slowly, scanning the trees.
"Hello?"
His voice cracked in the stillness. No answer. Not even the rustle of branches.
He tried again, louder.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
Silence.
And then faintly,a sound. A footstep. Soft. Careful.
Elias turned sharply toward the noise.
"Please," he said, softer now, "I just want to make sure you're okay."
Another step. Then another.
Someone was there, hiding just beyond the tree line. He could feel it. The air shifted with their presence.
He didn't move closer. He didn't want to scare them. He stayed where he was, hands at his sides.
"I know what it feels like," he said quietly. "To want to disappear."
The forest held its breath.
"I know what it feels like," he continued, "to think no one would care if you vanished."
A soft exhale a human exhale trembled from behind a cluster of bushes.
Elias swallowed hard.
"You're not alone," he said. "Not here. Not anymore."
He stayed in the clearing long after the footsteps faded. Whoever the person was, they weren't ready. He understood. He had lived in that place of fear and silence for most of his life.
Returning to the beach at dusk, Elias sat beside his fire and stared out over the water. The sky glowed with muted orange and purple, fading slowly into night.
He held the bracelet again, curling his fingers around it.
"Lina," he murmured, tasting the name again. "Are you the one out there?"
He imagined her ,a girl, maybe young, maybe older. Someone who wore rope around her wrist. Someone who carved sad truths into tree bark. Someone who hid in the shadows of the island, trying to keep her broken pieces from being seen.
He imagined her shivering alone in the dark, listening to his voice earlier, wanting to step forward but unable to.
The thought hurt him in a way he wasn't ready for.
The fire crackled, casting faint warmth against his skin.
Elias closed his eyes.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll try again."
For the first time since stepping onto the island, he wasn't living for himself.
He was living for someone else.