Page 84 of Archer

“I don’t know. Work.”

Archer nodded. “I think you should do whatever helps. I’ll take a walk around outside, make sure it’s all clear.”

I grabbed my guitar and the quilt Gram made by hand from the back of the couch. Then, I headed for my bedroom.

I settled onto the bed and pulled the quilt around my shoulders. The fabric still smelled faintly of her lavender perfume.

Guitar in my lap, my fingers found the strings, and I played the three chords I’d been working with for weeks. They felt different tonight. Less like a dead end and more like a beginning.

To my surprise, the notes shifted beneath my hands and something new emerged.

I played it again, slower. Letting the notes settle into my bones. All the latent rage and misplaced emotions simmered into a calming and beautiful melody.

The words followed.

I didn’t see the darkness coming

Didn’t hear his footsteps in the night

My fingers moved across the frets, finding the progression that felt right.

I thought safety was a fortress

Walls so high they’d block the light

The chorus pushed ahead, insistent.

But you can’t hide from shadows

Can’t outrun what’s inside your head

The monster’s in the mirror

In every word left unsaid

I stopped, fingers hovering over the strings. That wasn’t quite right. The fear was real, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Not anymore.

I started the verse again, changing the second line.

But you found me in the wreckage

Pulled me from the undertow

Better. True.

The bridge came next, spilling out as fast as I could catch it.

I’ve been running from the thunder

But you taught me how to stand

In the storm I found my shelter

In the reaching of your hand

My breath caught. That was it. That was the heart of it.

Not just the fear. Not just being hunted. But the other side. The person who stood between me and the darkness. Who made me feel strong instead of small.