CHAPTER 10

The glow of the sunset bathed the rooftop in soft hues of amber and crimson as the silence between Ethan and Andy stretched, comfortable yet filled with unspoken thoughts.

Andy leaned forward slightly, her arms wrapped around her knees, her gaze fixed on the skyline.

After a long pause, she began to speak, her voice low and tinged with melancholy.

"You know, I used to come up here with my family. My mom, dad, and my little sister. This was… our spot. Every evening, we'd sit here together, just like this, watching the sun go down."

Ethan turned his head slightly, watching her as she spoke. There was a distant quality to her voice, like she was reliving those moments as she described them.

"My dad would always bring snacks," she continued, her lips curling into a faint smile.

"My mom would tell us stories—some made up, some about when she was young. And my sister… she'd never sit still. Always fidgeting, always asking questions about the stars before they even came out."

Andy chuckled softly, but the sound carried an undertone of sadness. Ethan didn't interrupt, sensing there was more she needed to say.

For a moment, she fell silent, her expression unreadable as she stared out at the fading sun.

Then Ethan broke the quiet, his voice gentle. "Why aren't they here with you now?"

Andy didn't answer immediately. Her hands tightened around her knees, and she looked down at the edge of the rooftop.

The weight of her silence was heavy, and Ethan decided not to press her.

When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "They're all dead."

Ethan's eyes widened, and he turned fully toward her, startled. "I'm sorry, what?"

Andy glanced at him, her eyes red-rimmed but her face composed.

To his surprise, she smiled—bright and almost cheerful, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's okay," she said, her tone oddly light. "It doesn't matter anymore. I'm… used to it."

Ethan didn't know how to respond.

Sympathy welled up in his chest, but the way Andy dismissed it left him unsure if she wanted comfort or silence.

She didn't seem fragile, but the kind of strength she showed wasn't the kind that came easily.

Before he could say anything else, Andy brushed the topic aside with a wave of her hand.

"Enough about me," she said, her tone suddenly more enthusiastic. "What about you? What's your story?"

Ethan blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Andy grinned, leaning back slightly and giving him an appraising look.

"I mean, you look like crap. Like you've been running for miles and haven't slept in days. You're on edge—like someone's about to jump out of the shadows and grab you. What happened?"

For the first time, Ethan chuckled—a low, humorless sound that surprised even him. "That obvious, huh?"

"Painfully." she smiled.

He exhaled, the small smile lingering on his lips as he stared out at the darkening horizon.

"Honesty, I wish I knew," he admitted finally.

Andy raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

Ethan met her gaze, his smile faint but inscrutable. "I don't remember much," he said simply, offering no further explanation.

She tilted her head, studying him like she was trying to decide whether he was serious or messing with her. "You're not joking, are you?"

"Nope."

Andy huffed, crossing her arms. "Well, that's frustratingly cryptic."

Ethan shrugged, and Andy rolled her eyes dramatically. "Fine. Keep your mystery, stranger."

Despite the heaviness of their earlier conversation, the mood between them had lightened.

They sat there for a while longer, the silence punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city below.

The sun had almost disappeared, leaving behind a fading golden glow that stretched across the skyline.

Andy stretched, standing up and brushing off her jeans.

"Well, I've got to head out. Lots to do, and I don't want to get locked out of my building again."

Ethan glanced at her, something tugging at him as she turned to leave. He hesitated, then called out, "Wait."

She paused near the door, turning to face him with a questioning look. "Yeah?"

Reaching into his pocket, Ethan pulled out the crumpled note he'd been carrying.

The paper felt heavier in his hand than it should have. He held it out to her. "Do you… know what this is?"

Andy took a few steps closer, her curiosity piqued.

She leaned in, taking the note from him and studying it. Her brow furrowed as she read it, her expression shifting to something unreadable.

"What?" Ethan asked, his nerves suddenly on edge.

Andy looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "You're joking, right?"

Ethan shook his head, his voice firm. "I'm serious."

She stared at him like he'd just told her he didn't know what the sun was.

Then she sighed, her lips quirking into a lopsided smile. "It's a postal address," she said, handing the note back to him.

"A… what?"

Andy laughed, a genuine sound that echoed across the rooftop. "You don't know what a postal address is?"

Ethan frowned but didn't answer, and Andy's laughter softened.

"It's where mail gets delivered. Letters, packages, stuff like that. This one's for a P.O. box—it's basically a mailbox you rent at the post office."

She pointed at the numbers on the note. "This is the box number. The post office it's at is probably on Main Street, based on the zip code. It's not far from here."

Ethan stared at the note, her explanation sinking in. A mailbox. It felt both mundane and monumental.

Andy watched him for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, there you go. Mystery solved, I guess." She stepped back toward the door, giving him a small wave. "Nice meeting you, Ethan. Try not to fall off the roof, okay?"

Ethan smiled, his grip tightening on the note. "Thanks, Andy."

With that, she disappeared through the doorway, leaving him alone once more.

The rooftop felt quieter now, the city lights blinking below as the last traces of sunlight faded from the sky.

Ethan stared at the note in his hand, the numbers and address now carrying a strange weight.

He didn't know what awaited him at the post office, but at least now, he had a direction—a place to start.

And that was enough to get him moving.