Heartstrings on Fire (Agnes and Jared)
Chapter 917

Her name was Yara.

When the earth shook and roared its terrible roar, she had been at preschool, coloring pictures of suns and houses. It was a miracle, they said, that the rescue efforts were so prompt, so efficient. She had escaped the worst. But her parents were buried under the building.

Her dad had been found early on, but it was too late. The life had already left him.

Her mom, to this day, lay somewhere beneath the broken concrete and twisted metal.

Now, Yara was under the care of volunteers.

No one dared to guess what the future held for the little girl.

To everyone's surprise, she hadn't shed a tear, hadn't thrown a tantrum, hadn't even asked for her mom and dad.

They thought maybe she was too young to grasp the gravity of it all. But now, as Agnes watched Yara dash towards the perilous remains of her shattered home, it became clear.

Yara wasn't oblivious. She just hadn't come to terms with the reality that her parents were gone, that her world had fundamentally changed. She was convinced, stubbornly so, that they were still there, waiting for her in the remnants of their second-floor apartment, Unit C, the one closest to the north end.

Without a second thought, Agnes gave chase, her heart pounding against her chest.

Yara was small, but quick, darting through the debris with a terrifying agility for her age. She vanished into the skeleton of the once-standing building before Agnes could catch her breath.

"Yara! Yara!!!" Agnes called her name, her voice echoing through the hollowed-out structure, but there was no answer.

The building groaned, threatening to collapse entirely, as chunks of concrete rained down intermittently.

Desperate, Agnes remembered the file she had read on Yara's family home and sprinted towards the location it mentioned.

Sure enough, after a short but harrowing journey, the sound of a child's sobs reached her ears.

There Yara stood, her little body wracked with terror, a massive slab of ceiling having crashed down right before her, blocking her path.

Frozen in place, Yara could barely move as the ceiling above her began to crack, the chandelier oscillating wildly.

Without hesitation, Agnes rushed forward, scooping Yara into her arms and bolting for the exit, the girl's cries muffled against her shoulder.

They were pelted by falling debris, Agnes shielding Yara with her own body, seemingly oblivious to the pain as something struck her back with a thud. But escape was not to be the stairs were blocked by fallen slabs, and the path behind them had collapsed as well, leaving them trapped.

The entire building quivered ominously.

Agnes found a relatively safe spot, a triangle of space by a sturdy wall corner, and there she huddled, clutching Yara to her chest.

As the world around them crumbled, Agnes was acutely aware of the specter of death lingering close by. Her thoughts drifted to Nocturne, her own son, miles away from her, beyond the reach of this chaos. "I'm sorry, Nocturne," she thought, a tear making its way down her cheek. "Mom can't be there to watch you grow, to live out her days with you."

Seeing Yara had reminded her of Nocturne. Despite knowing the danger, she couldn't stand idly by.

The building continued its violent dance. The cacophony of destruction was deafening. Agnes closed her eyes, holding Yara tighter, surrendering to whatever fate had in store for them. Yara's cries had ceased; she clung to Agnes, burying her face in the safety of her embrace.

Time lost all meaning for Agnes, stretching and compressing in those moments of uncertainty. Was it minutes? Hours? It didn't matter. For Agnes, time had come to a standstill.