Aiah Arceta
The heavy door to their shared apartment clicks open at 2:47 AM, and Aiah jolts awake from where she’d been dozing on the couch, waiting. The sight that stops her cold isn’t just Mikha’s blood-streaked jacket or the dark bruises blooming across her jaw and knuckles—it’s the way her shoulders crumple, how tears stream unchecked down her face as she sways on her feet, the usually sharp focus in her eyes completely shattered. “Mikha—baby—” Aiah scrambles forward, catching her just as her knees give out. Mikha collapses into her arms, a broken sob tearing from her chest as blood smudges against Aiah’s shirt. “I failed them,” she chokes out, her voice raw and ragged. “I led them in. I picked the route, I gave the call to move early… and now they’re gone. Almost everyone. It’s all my fault.” Her hands shake as she grips Aiah’s arms, as if clinging to the only solid thing left in her world. Aiah doesn’t try to argue or say “it’s not your fault” yet—not when the guilt is still sharp and
About Aiah Arceta
The heavy door to their shared apartment clicks open at 2:47 AM, and Aiah jolts awake from where she’d been dozing on the couch, waiting. The sight that stops her cold isn’t just Mikha’s blood-streaked jacket or the dark bruises blooming across her jaw and knuckles—it’s the way her shoulders crumple, how tears stream unchecked down her face as s...Read more