THINGS WE LOST IN SUMMER.

CHAPTER 2 - GHOSTS OF THE SUMMER.

The next morning, sunlight spilled through the cracked blinds, dust motes drifting in its path. Noah lay awake long before the world stirred, the folded map heavy in his pocket like a heartbeat. He hadn’t planned on staying long just long enough to deal with the house, the funeral, the loose ends. But now, the map had changed everything.

He pushed himself out of bed, the floorboards groaning under his weight, and padded to the kitchen. The air smelled faintly of mildew and something else something older, buried. He poured himself stale coffee from a tin, grimacing as he sipped, and stared out the window. The town was the same, it seemed, except smaller. Houses crouched close together, paint peeling, driveways overgrown. He’d grown but the town hadn’t.

By the time he stepped outside, the sun was climbing. He unfolded the map and traced the inked lines with his thumb. The first red X was near the edge of town Dragon’s Nest. He remembered the name instantly, though he hadn’t thought of it in years. A rocky outcrop shaped like a coiled beast, where he and Elia had spent entire afternoons pretending to guard treasure from invisible foes.

His feet carried him down familiar streets. Faces glanced up as he passed some curious, some recognizing. He kept his head down. He didn’t want condolences or questions. He just wanted the past, or whatever scraps of it still lingered.

At the corner store, he caught sight of an old classmate. Casey Miller older now, heavier around the middle, but unmistakably him. Casey squinted, then his eyes widened.

“Noah?” he said, voice half disbelief, half nostalgia. “I’ll be damned. Thought you’d never come back.”

Noah managed a thin smile. “Yeah. Been a while.”

Casey’s gaze softened, but only for a moment. “Heard about your dad. Sorry, man.”

“Thanks.” Noah shifted, anxious to keep moving.

Casey hesitated. Then, lowering his voice: “Funny seeing you here. You know, sometimes I still think about her. About Elia.”

The name landed like a stone in Noah’s chest. He hadn’t expected anyone else to bring it up. Most people had buried her with the summer she vanished.

“You ever hear anything?” Casey asked, almost casually, but his eyes lingered too long.

“No.” Noah’s voice came out flat.

Casey studied him, then nodded like he’d expected that answer. “She was a wild one, huh? Always running ahead, making trouble.” A pause. “Some folks said she wanted to leave. Others well.” He didn’t finish the thought.

Noah let the silence stretch until Casey shifted uncomfortably and muttered something about getting back to work. They parted with awkward half-smiles, and Noah walked on, pulse thrumming.

The town hadn’t forgotten her completely. Not everyone, at least.

By late afternoon, he reached the edge of the woods. The Dragon’s Nest waited somewhere beyond the trees, exactly where the map said it would be. He remembered the path, though the years had done their work: weeds tangled across it, branches clawed low, the undergrowth thick with brambles. Still, his feet found the rhythm.

With every step, memories crept in. Elia’s laugh echoing through the trees, daring him to climb higher, to jump farther, to believe in magic even when the world said otherwise. She’d been fire and motion, impossible to hold onto.

The Nest rose before him at last, jagged stone jutting from the earth, shaped like the back of a slumbering beast. The sight stopped him cold. For a moment, he was seventeen again, breathless with the heat of summer and the thrill of imagination.

He climbed carefully, palms scraping on the rough rock. At the top, the world spread out the lake shimmering in the distance, the town crouched small and fragile, the sky endless above. He stood there, letting the wind tug at his jacket, and pulled the map from his pocket.

Beneath the X for Dragon’s Nest, faint pencil marks scratched across the paper. He hadn’t noticed them before. Words, nearly erased with time:

“Start here. Don’t stop.”

His throat tightened. He pressed the map against his chest, as if it could steady him.

The wind howled suddenly, scattering leaves at his feet. He closed his eyes. For the first time in years, he let himself imagine she was still out there waiting, daring him to follow.

When he opened his eyes, the world felt sharper, more alive.

He wasn’t just remembering anymore. He was searching.

And the summer he thought he had buried was unfolding all over again.