The Box of Secrets

The city groaned, sagging under the weight of a sky that looked like it had been bruised too many times. Kal stood at the edge of the market, his eyes tracking Elara as she disappeared into the shadows. Always running. Always just out of reach.

“You’re doing it again,” Ren said, his voice taut, cutting through the growing hum of the dying streetlights.

Kal turned toward his friend. Ren clutched that damn box like it was part of his body, fingers tight around the edges. Kal had never asked about it. Never needed to. It was too heavy for words.

“I don’t have a choice, Ren,” Kal replied, his voice laced with riddles, as usual. Words always tumbled out of him that way, twisted, like the city’s alleys. “What’s left when you stop chasing a ghost?”