CHAPTER 4: Hidden

Miranda returned to the house, the laughter from earlier had settled into a low, lingering quiet. The warmth of the evening still clung to the walls, and in the kitchen, she found Sarah rinsing plates, her sleeves rolled up, humming softly to herself.

"Still at it?" Miranda asked, stepping in and picking up a dish towel.

Sarah looked up, her face breaking into a tired smile. "You took your time."

"I was saying goodbye. They talk too much," Miranda said, bumping her shoulder gently against her daughter's. Sarah let out a small laugh, the kind that fluttered and faded quickly, but still held something sweet.

They worked side by side in companionable silence, exchanging a few words here and there. Something light about the food. A memory from a few years ago. A small moment of joy passed between them, like a flicker of warmth through a crack in the door. Once the dishes were done and the counters wiped, Miranda followed Sarah down the hallway. She stood at the doorway of her daughter's room as Sarah got into bed, pulled the covers over herself.

"Night, Ma."

"Night, my baby," Miranda whispered.

She closed the door gently, then walked up to her own room. She sat on the edge of the bed for a while, her hands folded on her lap. Everything in the house was still. The quiet kind that almost begged not to be disturbed.

Then, slowly, she stood. Moved to the door. Turned the knob and opened it just a sliver. The hallway was dark. No movement. Nothing but the soft rhythm of sleep behind closed doors.

The door gave a soft click behind her as Miranda eased it shut. Her bare feet moved soundlessly across the wooden floor, careful to avoid the spots she knew creaked. Every breath she took felt louder than it should.

At the stairs, she paused. Listened. Nothing.

She stepped down, slow and deliberate, one hand grazing the rail. Each stair seemed to hold its breath beneath her weight, but none betrayed her. Once at the bottom, she crossed the living room like a shadow. The front door, she opened with the gentlest pull — just enough for her to slip through — and then she was outside, swallowed by the cool breath of the night.

The earth crunched softly beneath her feet. Dry and restless. The wind stirred the dust along the path in lazy swirls, brushing against her ankles like smoke. Everything smelled faintly of soil, sweat, and the distant trace of something flowering. She kept walking. Past the fence. Past the half-dead tree. Her pace quickened the moment she was far enough from the house. Something pulled her forward — not panic, not fear, just a quiet urgency.

And then she saw it: a soft, flickering light in the distance. It glowed faintly yellow, almost golden, pulsing like it was breathing.

She moved toward it. 

it was a car she knocked on the window two times, then she entered with the most adorable smile. As she sat, She tucked a stain of her behind her ear, giggling as if a scholar sneaking out 

"it is cold isn't it" she said as she lean in for a kiss that didn't land as the gentle man moved back "is there something wrong" she asked

"how long must we hide" asked the gentleman

"This again" she shrugged "I missed you and thought of you all day and if this is what we going to do all night then i might as well leave" 

Her fingers grazed the handle, ready to leave. But then—his arm moved. He reached across her and gently pushed the door shut. His hand lingered there, fingers pressed against the door, like he was holding her in place by sheer will. Before she could speak, he turned her face toward him — slow, careful, like she was something breakable. His eyes locked onto hers.

"I don't want you to go," he said, voice low, rough at the edges. "Please stay."

His eyes searched hers, waiting. Quiet. Needing an answer.

"kiss me maybe i will stay" she said jokingly

For a second, the gentleman just stared at her — stunned, maybe, by the way she said it, playful but trembling with something real. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt in one clean motion, the sound small but final in the hush between them. His hand was already on her face, warm against her cheek — and then it moved, sliding behind her neck, drawing her in like gravity. It wasn't hesitant. His mouth found hers, and emotion poured into the kiss — weeks, months of stolen moments, of pretending not to care in the daylight, of brushing hands in passing like it meant nothing. But now, here, it all crashed forward.

It was a kiss that said I'm tired of hiding.

A kiss that said choose me.

And for a second, she let herself forget everything — the world, the rules, the watching eyes — and kissed him back like she already had. 

"let's go, i bring you back no later then 3am"

"hey baby i will be ready one day, I promise just please bare with me okay, And 3 is way to early, Sera doesn't wake till 9"

"it's okay" he gave her a forehead kiss " 4am it is then. 

The drive was easy, familiar — like a quiet rhythm they'd fallen into over months. The same worn road stretching out beneath them, the same soft music spilling from the radio, the same laughter sliding between them like a well-loved song.

She slipped off her gloves and let the cool breeze play with her hair through the open window, while his steady hand rested close, never quite touching but always near enough to remind her he was there. By now, the little house at the edge of the farmland wasn't a secret. It was their refuge, tucked away from the eyes of a world that wouldn't understand. She stepped inside like she belonged, kicking off her shoes and settling in with the ease of someone coming home.

He moved around the kitchen with quiet confidence, preparing the dessert she'd come to expect — the warm, spiced treat he always made just for her. She teased him, pretending she wasn't hungry, but she knew better.

They ate slowly, savoring each bite, their laughter soft and easy in the dim light. The world outside ceased to exist here. Later, when the dishes were done, they slipped into the quiet of his bedroom. She curled against his chest, feeling the familiar rise and fall of his breathing beneath her cheek. His arms wrapped around her like a promise.

"This place," she whispered, "it feels like ours."

He kissed the top of her head, a smile in his voice. "Because it is." and they slept the night away.