I Trust You

Ethan studied Lyla as she nodded vigorously. Despite her repeated nods, he found it hard to believe.

"Really?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Really! I believe you" Lyla responded, full of conviction.

Ethan couldn't help but give her a skeptical look, his expression bordering on disbelief.

'How can anyone take that seriously?'

After a moment, Ethan gave up on the thought. "Alright," he sighed, "I'll treat you to lunch later."

But Lyla had a different idea. "Let's grab some snacks and go hiking instead. We can discuss while we're up there."

Ethan chuckled, a bit exasperated. He knew her too well, he could sense what she was up to. She claimed to believe him, but this was clearly a test.

The hike was mostly silent, with Lyla unusually quiet. She only spoke when Ethan started a conversation, otherwise staring blankly out the car window.

When they reached Hawthorne Ridge, Lyla took the lead, heading up the trail. She wandered further and further off the beaten path, eventually leaving the designated tourist area altogether.

"Lyla," Ethan called out, "you sure we're heading the right way?"

"Almost there," she insisted stubbornly, pressing on.

Ethan shook his head but followed. Eventually, they reached the entrance of a hidden cave, concealed behind a thick wall of shrubs. Lyla stopped abruptly, her face glistening with sweat, her breath heavy.

Watching her, Ethan felt a wave of emotions, an unexplainable mix of fondness and concern.

"Ethan," Lyla said softly, pointing to the cave. "Does this place seem familiar to you?"

Ethan stared at the overgrown entrance, his brow furrowed in confusion. "No… Should it?"

But something about the way she had called his name tugged at him.

Noticing his expression, Lyla sat down on a boulder near the cave entrance. "Ethan, let me tell you a story."

Ethan sat opposite her, intrigued. "Alright, I'm listening."

"Fourteen years ago, a little boy and a little girl met in this very cave. He was six, and she was five. They had both been kidnapped and brought here by traffickers…" Lyla trailed off, studying Ethan's face closely.

Her words hit Ethan like a freight train. His heart pounded as fragmented memories rushed to the surface. He shot to his feet, staring wildly at the cave. Then, turning back to Lyla, he found her standing, tears streaming down her face.

"You remember, don't you?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she ran to him, burying her face in his chest.

"You… You're Ellie," Ethan stammered, his voice breaking. "You're Ellie…"

Lyla nodded vigorously, sobbing into his shirt.

The memories were now crystal clear. Fourteen years ago, he'd been yanked from a van, his head covered, and the first person he'd seen was a girl about his age. She had been crying endlessly, her wailing relentless.

Frustrated, he'd snapped at her, "If you keep crying, I won't take you with me when I escape!"

To his surprise, she had stopped instantly. "You can really get us out of here?" she had asked.

"Do you trust me?" he'd replied.

"I trust you."

For a week, they'd been trapped together, their hope dwindling with each passing day. Then, on a stormy night, he'd managed to cut through the ropes binding his hands with a sharp stone. He'd freed her legs just as the guard discovered them.

They'd fled into the woods, but two children could never outrun an adult. When the guard closed in, Ethan had made a desperate suggestion.

"We have to jump."

Without hesitation, the girl had said, "I trust you. Let's jump."

Ethan had tied her arms around his neck and, just as the guard reached out to grab them, hurled them both off the cliff.

The incline had broken their fall, but iraculously, they had survived.

The guard, however, wasn't as lucky. Slipping as he tried to follow, he had plunged straight to the bottom.

When Ethan had slid down the cliff, using his body as a shield, they'd landed right on top of the guard, cushioning their fall slightly.

When the two of them woke up, they were already in the hospital. The doctors said the trafficker had died from the fall, and his accomplices had all been arrested.

Three months later, they were discharged. Ethan had stayed at Ellie's house for a week after being released, but then he'd insisted on returning to the orphanage.

Ellie's family, being wealthy, had wanted to adopt him. But Ethan had refused, clinging to the faint hope that his parents, the ones who had abandoned him, might still come back for him.

On the morning of his departure, Ellie's mother asked if there was one thing she could do for him. His request? A proper breakfast, a feast of freshly fried pastries.

And so, dressed in his worn-out clothes, he sat opposite Ellie, as they ate together in a restaurant.

When it was time to say goodbye, Ellie had waved at him from the sidewalk while Ethan sat in her family's car. He could barely make out her voice over the hum of the engine.

"Ethan, you have to remember me! My name is Ellie—like the letters E-L-L-I-E! When I grow up, I'll…"

The car had pulled away, cutting her words off.

---

Now, standing at the edge of the same cliff, Lyla clung to Ethan's arm, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"This was the spot, wasn't it?" she asked.

Ethan peered down, his head spinning slightly. "Looks like it," he muttered. "No way I'd jump now, though."

Lyla laughed softly. "Do you know? I come here every year. Oh, by the way, let me see your scars."

Ethan raised a brow, turning his head to look at her. She smiled back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

After hesitating, Ethan sighed and turned around. Lyla gently pulled up his basketball jersey, revealing his back.

Her breath caught. His skin was crisscrossed with scars, running from his shoulder blades down to his lower back.

Lyla's cold fingertips traced one of the deeper scars along his spine. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "Does it still hurt?" she whispered, her fingers sliding lower.

Ethan tensed, clearing his throat. "No… Doesn't hurt at all. In fact it's like a protective layer now. Once, someone hit me with a metal pipe during a fight, and I barely felt a thing!"

As her fingers grazed his lower back, Ethan spun around quickly, pulling his shirt down. "Alright, enough of that," he said, grinning.

Lyla laughed, swatting him lightly on the arm. "Look at you, acting so tough!"

Her gaze wandered back to the cliff. "So… I guess you'll be fine if you jump again?" she asked, pointing down.

Ethan took one look and shook his head. "Not a chance."

"But you jumped back then, even with me on your back. How did you manage that?"

Ethan shrugged, thinking for a moment. "I don't know. It doesn't matter, does it? We survived."

Lyla pouted, clearly unimpressed with his answer. "What do you mean it doesn't matter? Do you know how much I trusted you back then? And now you're saying it wasn't important?"

Seeing her anger about to explode, Ethan turned and ran, playfully laughing as Lyla chased after him, fists swinging.

After a while, Ethan spun around and caught her hands. "Hey, back then, as I was leaving, you shouted something to me. You said, 'When I grow up, I'll…' What were you going to say? I couldn't hear over the car engine."

Lyla's face turned red as she yanked her hands free. "I'm not telling you!" she shouted, bolting ahead.

Ethan stood there, watching her retreating figure. For the first time in what felt like forever, the shadows clouding his heart lifted. A small smile played on his lips.

Softly, he murmured, "Doesn't matter what you said, Lyla. You're not getting away from me this time. Not in this life."

His thoughts wandered back to her in the game, always by his side, never abandoning him. Determined, Ethan clenched his fists. This time, he wouldn't let her down.