Chapter 12 – Echoes from Andorra

The streets of Neville were never truly silent, but this afternoon felt different. Macklin sat on the stone bench near the cream-painted duplex, tapping his foot against the ground, his hands stuffed deep into his hoodie pocket. The chatter of vendors in the distance barely reached him — his thoughts had already drifted far away.

Andorra.

It had been months, but the images were sharp in his mind: the crisp air in the mornings, the busy cobblestone streets, the smell of freshly brewed coffee from the café across the road from the bookshop where he worked.

He could still see the glass counter where he kept the rare novels, the tiny bell that rang when customers came in. And then… Alina.

She wasn’t just his girlfriend back then; she was his anchor. Dark curls framing her bright smile, the way she’d lean against the counter pretending to browse just to keep him company. They’d spend evenings walking by the waterfront, sharing pastries, talking about their dreams — hers to travel the world, his to finally get into college and study architecture.

But dreams change.

Her acceptance letter came first — a scholarship far from Andorra. He told her to go. He pretended he was fine. Two weeks later, she boarded a flight, and the space she left behind felt bigger than the whole city.

Macklin shook his head, exhaling sharply.

Back then, he’d thrown himself into work, saving every spare coin. He thought maybe he’d leave too, find something new, something different. And then the letter came for his family — the move to Neville in Oruntria. Goodbye, Andorra. Goodbye, Alina.

A voice broke through his thoughts.

“Macklin?”

He looked up — his eyes caught a figure in the distance. Camera slung across the shoulder, steady gaze scanning the street. Masquit. The same photographer who had shown up at their home weeks ago. The sight jolted Macklin fully into the present.

Masquit’s gaze lingered a moment longer before turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

Macklin frowned. He didn’t know why, but something about that man didn’t sit right.

Leaning back, he let his eyes wander to the clouds above. And for the briefest moment, an image of Zara’s face flashed in his mind — the way she’d scowled at him in the grocery store, the sharpness in her eyes. He quickly shook it off. He didn’t have time for that. Not now.