The forest stretched around them like a cautious guardian, the air thick with the scent of damp pine and earth. Sofiane's boots crunched softly on the leaf-strewn path as he carried Younes, Cynthia walking just behind him, her eyes scanning the trees for any sign of danger. Julien and Mouna flanked them, alert and tense, their footsteps as quiet as ghosts.
The refuge emerged through a thin veil of morning mist, a collection of reinforced cabins and watchtowers nestled in a secluded clearing. The gates, once rigidly closed, now hung slightly ajar—a sign that Zahira and her group were expecting them, yet wary of what might arrive from the outside world.
Zahira stepped forward, her eyes widening as she saw her brother approaching. Relief and disbelief warred across her face. "Sofiane… is it really you?"
Sofiane set Younes down gently, kneeling to let the boy's small hands brush against his own. "It's me, little one. Safe now." Younes blinked sleepily but then smiled faintly, recognizing the voice he had missed for so long.
Behind them, Amel, Mouna, and Murad moved forward, scanning the forest before allowing themselves to exhale. The reunion was quiet but profound, a series of nods, embraces, and the silent acknowledgment of survival.
Cynthia remained slightly apart, watching the interactions with a subtle smile. Sofiane caught her gaze and offered a brief nod of gratitude. "You kept him safe," he said softly.
"I did what I could," Cynthia replied, her voice low but steady. "He's strong. But it's you he needed."
Mourad emerged from the shadows, clapping Sofiane lightly on the shoulder. "I told you he'd make it," he said, half-joking but filled with warmth.
The group gathered inside the main hall of the refuge, the walls lined with maps and supplies, a quiet testament to the careful planning that had kept them alive. Sofiane placed Younes in a small cot, gently covering him with a blanket. The boy's breaths were steady now, his small chest rising and falling with each sigh.
Zahira moved closer, her voice soft but firm. "We've reinforced the perimeter. But Ayoub will not stop searching. You need to rest, Sofiane. You've done enough to bring him here safely."
Sofiane shook his head, his dark eyes sharp even in the dim light. "Rest can wait. We need to prepare. Ayoub won't give up. Not now, not ever."
Amel stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Then we'll be ready. Together."
As night fell, the refuge seemed to hold its breath. The forest whispered around them, carrying distant echoes of danger and memory. Sofiane stood by the window, watching the shadows stretch across the trees, knowing that each moment of calm was borrowed. The group was safe for now, but the storm was far from over.
In the quiet of the refuge, amidst reunited family and allies, Sofiane allowed himself a brief moment to feel the weight of what they had survived—and the hope that they could face whatever came next, together.