CHAPTER 6 — THE EMPTY SEAT

The next morning, Miyaka arrived at school earlier than usual.

She had barely slept.

All night, she had been thinking about Moises.

She remembered the way he had looked at her before getting into the black vehicle.

She remembered their pinky promise.

I’ll come back.

That was enough to make her smile.

He promised.

So she believed him.

Miyaka entered the classroom carrying her bag.

Jason was already sitting at his desk.

“Good morning!” Miyaka greeted cheerfully.

Jason looked at her.

“Morning.”

Miyaka dropped her bag onto her chair.

“Where's Moises?”

Jason suddenly looked away.

Miyaka frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You're acting weird.”

“I didn't sleep much.”

“Why?”

Jason shrugged.

“I just couldn't.”

Miyaka laughed.

“Maybe because you stayed up playing games again.”

Jason forced a smile.

“Maybe.”

Miyaka looked toward the classroom door.

“He should be here soon.”

Jason didn't answer.

She sat down.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then fifteen.

Miyaka kept looking at the door.

Every time footsteps approached the classroom, she lifted her head.

But it was never Moises.

The teacher entered.

“Good morning, class.”

Everyone stood.

“Good morning, Ma'am.”

After taking attendance, the teacher began calling names.

“Miyaka Reyes?”

“Present!”

“Jason Rivera?”

“Present.”

Then the teacher paused.

Her expression changed slightly.

“Moises Laurent?”

Silence.

Miyaka looked toward the empty chair.

She raised her hand.

“Ma'am?”

The teacher looked at her.

“Moises isn't here?”

The teacher sighed.

“No.”

“Why?”

The teacher hesitated.

“I was informed this morning that Moises will no longer be attending this school.”

Miyaka froze.

“What?”

Several students started whispering.

Jason lowered his head.

Miyaka stared at the teacher.

“What do you mean he won't be attending?”

“He has been transferred.”

“Transferred where?”

“I don't have that information.”

“But why?”

“I don't know, Miyaka.”

Miyaka stood up.

“But he told me he was coming back!”

The classroom became silent.

The teacher looked at her sympathetically.

“I understand.”

“No, you don't.”

Miyaka's voice trembled.

“He promised me.”

The teacher didn't know what to say.

Miyaka turned toward Jason.

“You knew.”

Jason's eyes widened.

“What?”

“You knew something was happening.”

“No.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“Miyaka…”

“Where is Moises?”

Jason looked at the floor.

“I don't know.”

“You were there yesterday.”

“I know.”

“You heard everything.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me!”

Jason couldn't answer.

Miyaka walked toward him.

“Jason.”

He finally looked at her.

There were tears in her eyes.

“Is he coming back?”

Jason swallowed.

He wanted to say yes.

He wanted to tell her that everything would be fine.

He wanted to tell her that Moises would walk through that door any second.

But he knew that wasn't true.

“I don't know.”

Miyaka stared at him.

Then she slowly returned to her seat.

The empty chair beside her seemed louder than the entire classroom.

She kept staring at it.

The chair where Moises used to sit.

The chair where he would quietly do his homework.

The chair where he used to leave chocolates for her.

The chair where he once whispered jokes during class.

Now it was empty.

And somehow, that empty chair hurt more than anything.

---

At lunchtime, Miyaka refused to eat.

She sat beneath their favorite tree.

Jason sat beside her.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Finally, Miyaka asked:

“Do you think he forgot me?”

Jason immediately shook his head.

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Moises.”

“But he left.”

“He didn't want to.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do.”

Miyaka looked at him.

“Then tell me why.”

Jason stayed silent.

“Jason.”

“I can't.”

“Why?”

“I promised him.”

Miyaka's eyes filled with tears.

“You promised him?”

Jason looked down.

“What did you promise?”

“That I wouldn't tell you.”

Miyaka laughed bitterly.

“Of course.”

“Miyaka—”

“He gets to leave.”

Jason looked at her.

“And you get to keep his secrets.”

“That isn't fair.”

“No.”

Miyaka wiped her tears.

“None of this is fair.”

Jason wanted to tell her everything.

He wanted to explain that Moises had been terrified.

That the adults around him were hiding something.

That the departure wasn't normal.

But he couldn't break his promise.

So he simply said:

“He didn't leave because he stopped caring about you.”

Miyaka looked at him.

“Then why?”

Jason hesitated.

“Because sometimes people leave because they think they have no choice.”

Miyaka looked toward the school building.

“But he promised.”

“I know.”

“He said he'd come back.”

“I know.”

“Then I'm going to wait.”

Jason's heart sank.

“Miyaka…”

“I'll wait for him.”

“For how long?”

She thought about it.

“As long as it takes.”

---

The weeks passed.

Moises didn't return.

Miyaka continued expecting him.

Every morning, she looked toward the door.

Every afternoon, she looked at his empty chair.

Every time a black car passed the school, she wondered if it was him.

Sometimes she ran outside.

Sometimes she stood at the gate for several minutes.

But it was never Moises.

One afternoon, she asked the school secretary:

“Did Moises send anything?”

The woman shook her head.

“No, dear.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Miyaka nodded.

“Okay.”

She walked away.

But before leaving, she looked back.

“Thank you.”

That evening, she returned to the tree.

She sat alone.

The wind moved through the leaves above her.

She pulled out the drawing she had made the day before Moises left.

Three children standing together.

Miyaka.

Moises.

Jason.

She traced Moises' face with her finger.

“You said you'd come back.”

Her voice cracked.

“So I'm going to believe you.”

She hugged the drawing against her chest.

“What if you can't come back?”

She shook her head.

“No.”

She refused to think that way.

“What if you forgot me?”

She quickly wiped her tears.

“No.”

She remembered his words.

How could I?

“He wouldn't forget me.”

She smiled through her tears.

“He won't.”

---

That night, Miyaka's mother found her sitting beside the bedroom window.

“You haven't eaten much today.”

“I'm not hungry.”

Her mother sat beside her.

“You miss him.”

Miyaka looked down.

“Mom…”

“Yes?”

“Do people really leave without saying goodbye?”

Her mother became quiet.

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes adults make decisions children don't understand.”

“But Moises promised me.”

Her mother gently touched her hair.

“Then hold on to the promise.”

Miyaka looked at her.

“Do you think he'll come back?”

Her mother didn't want to lie.

“I don't know.”

Miyaka's eyes filled with tears.

“But I believe he will.”

Her mother hugged her.

Miyaka buried her face against her mother's shoulder.

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I just want my best friend back.”

“I know.”

Her mother held her tighter.

Miyaka whispered:

“What if he doesn't remember me anymore?”

Her mother kissed the top of her head.

“Someone who truly matters to you doesn't disappear from your heart that easily.”

Miyaka closed her eyes.

She wanted to believe that.

---

Months passed.

The seasons changed.

The school year continued.

Miyaka grew older.

But she never stopped looking at the empty chair.

Sometimes Jason would catch her staring at it.

Sometimes she would smile as though she expected Moises to suddenly walk through the door.

Sometimes she would become angry.

Sometimes she would cry.

But she never gave up completely.

One afternoon, she returned to their tree carrying a small box.

Inside were little things Moises had given her over the years.

A pencil.

A folded piece of paper.

A tiny bracelet.

A photograph of the three of them.

And the last drawing they had made together.

She placed everything inside.

Then she added a note.

She wrote:

Dear Moises,

I don't know where you are.

I don't know why you left.

But you promised to come back.

So I'm still waiting.

Please don't forget me.

Your best friend,

Miyaka.

She closed the box.

Then she buried it beneath the tree.

Jason watched from a distance.

He didn't interrupt.

He knew something Miyaka didn't.

Moises hadn't forgotten her.

He had never forgotten her.

And somewhere far away, a young Moises was carrying a photograph of Miyaka too.

Both children were waiting.

Both believed in the same promise.

But neither knew that the years ahead would stretch far longer than either of them could imagine.

Miyaka looked up at the tree.

“Come back soon, Moises.”

The wind moved softly through the branches.

And for a brief moment, she imagined she could hear his voice.

“I will.”

She smiled.

She didn't know when.

She didn't know how.

But she would wait.

Because the empty seat in the classroom wasn't proof that Moises was gone forever.

To Miyaka, it was simply a reminder.

He had promised.

And promises were meant to be kept.

Even if it took years.

Even if it took a lifetime.