Chapter 10: You're Our Meat Shield

Part 1

"Alright, the mission parameters are set," Olivia announced, lowering her voice out of respect for the shivering child clinging to her stuffed dragon. "We move in a diamond formation. Erika, you’re guarding the dragon. Sera, you’ve got the VIP. And you—" she pointed a crutch at the boy in the hoodie, "—you’re our meat shield."

Soren blinked. Marie blinked.

"Please ignore her," Sera sighed as they agreed to head to the help desk.

Soren and Marie shook their heads as they agreed.

The walk back to the first floor settled into a strange, peaceful rhythm. Soren carried Marie on his back with the quiet competence of someone who had done this before — or at least had the vibe of a stay‑at‑home dad who could pack a lunchbox with military precision. The trio trailed behind him, openly staring.

“So we’re looking for a brother. Does he have a name?” Soren asked gently, adjusting his grip so Marie didn’t slip.

“Toby,” she sniveled into his shoulder.

Sera glanced back at Soren. He didn’t smile, but something in his posture eased — the tension in his shoulders dropping just a fraction.

“Hmm... Toby,” he repeated, like he was filing the name away in a mental chart. “If I remember right, I think I saw him earlier. Blue hoodie. About this tall. Messy hair.”

“You saw him?” Erika asked, surprised.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Marie giggled — a tiny, fragile sound, but the first real laugh since they’d found her.

“Well, most people here are either on dates or with friends,” Soren said, setting Marie down but keeping her hand in his. “It narrows things down when we know he’s ten.”

He gave the trio a shy, grateful smile — small, but sincere.

They headed toward the help desk, Marie climbed down. They began swinging their joined hands, Soren matching her pace without missing a beat.

The help desk sat beneath a flickering neon sign that read LOST & FOUND in bright cheerful bubble letters — a painfully optimistic contrast to the boy standing beneath it.

He looked about ten.

Arms crossed.

Foot tapping.

Face scrunched into a scowl sharp enough to cut glass.

Marie’s grip on Soren’s hand tightened.

Soren slowed, lowering himself to her level. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “We’re almost there.”

Olivia limped behind them, whispering, “Final boss energy.”

Erika elbowed her. “Please don’t say that in front of the child.”

Sera walked a step behind, quiet. Her eyes stayed fixed on Marie and Soren’s joined hands — small fingers wrapped around steady ones. Something in her expression tightened, a flicker of something old and heavy, before she blinked it away.

They reached the desk.

Marie let go of Soren’s hand and ran forward. “Big brother!”

Her stuffed dragon slipped from her arms and hit the floor with a soft thud.

Her brother’s face lit up — for half a second.

Then it twisted into frustration.

“Where did you GO?!” he snapped, voice too loud for the small space. “Do you know how annoying this is?! I’ve been looking everywhere!”

Part 2

Marie froze mid‑step, shoulders curling inward like she was trying to make herself smaller.

Her lower lip trembled.

Sera flinched — a tiny, involuntary jolt, like someone had plucked a nerve she’d been trying to bury. The arcade noise thinned around her, replaced by the sharp sting of the boy’s voice.

Marie’s eyes filled instantly.

Then she burst into tears.

Olivia slammed her crutch down like she was calling for order in a courtroom. “Hey! Don’t yell at her!”

Erika marched forward, finger raised like she was about to assign detention. “She’s five. Five. You can’t talk to your little sister like that.”

The boy recoiled, startled by the sudden adult ambush. “Wh—what?! I wasn’t—she just—!”

Marie cried harder, overwhelmed by the noise and attention.

Sera took a half‑step back.

Her breath hitched.

Her vision tunneled.

Her knees wobbled.

She bumped lightly into a prize machine, fingers curling into her palms until faint crescents pressed into her skin. She didn’t show the pain — she just tried to breathe through the rising static.

Olivia and Erika didn’t notice.

They were too busy arguing.

The emotional spike was coming.

And Sera was already unraveling.

The boy’s voice rose again, sharper this time. “It’s not my fault! She just—she wandered off and—!”

Soren slammed his foot down. “Let’s take a moment to calm down. You’re scaring her.”

The room was momentarily stunned by the silence. Everyone turned their gaze to Marie, overwhelmed by the noise and attention.

Erika jabbed a finger toward him. “Apologize. Immediately.”

The boy recoiled, cheeks flushing red. “Why are you yelling at me?! Quit butting in, old hag!”

Erika froze.

A vein in her forehead twitched like it was trying to escape.

“Old— HAG?”

Olivia dropped her crutches entirely to grab Erika by the shoulders. “Calm down, girl! He’s ten! You can’t fight a ten‑year‑old!”

“I’m not going to fight him,” Erika said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to educate him.”

Marie’s sobs climbed higher, her tiny shoulders shaking.

And behind them—

Sera took another step back, the world narrowing to a thin, trembling line.

Her breath hitched, shallow and uneven.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

Her eyes unfocused, like she was staring through the scene instead of at it.

The yelling. The panic. The guilt.

The sibling dynamic twisting into something sharp.

It pressed against her like a memory she didn’t want to remember.

She blinked hard, trying to steady herself.

But the boy snapped again, voice cracking with frustration.

“I wish I didn’t have a little sister!”

Part 3

The words hit the air like a slap.

Erika gasped. “You did NOT just—”

Olivia lunged forward and grabbed his cheek between her fingers, stretching it like dough. “Take. That. Back.”

The boy flailed helplessly. “Ow—ow—OW! Let go!”

Marie cried harder, clutching the stuffed dragon like a shield.

Sera’s breathing stuttered.

Her vision tunneled.

Her knees wobbled.

She took another step back, almost bumping into a prize machine. Her fingers dug into her palms, grounding herself with pain she didn’t show on her face.

No one noticed.

Except one.

Soren.

He glanced back just long enough to catch the blankness in her expression — too blank — before turning toward the chaos.

Quietly, he stepped forward.

He picked up the stuffed dragon from where Marie had dropped it. He knelt beside her, offering it gently. “Here,” he said softly. “Your dragon was worried.”

Marie hiccuped, clutching it to her chest like a lifeline.

Then Soren turned to the brother.

He didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t scold.

He didn’t shame.

He simply held the boy’s gaze, steady and calm.

“Toby, I understand that you’re scared,” Soren said. “But she is too.”

The boy froze.

Soren continued, voice soft but firm. “You don’t want to say something you’ll regret later. Not to someone you care about.”

The boy’s expression cracked — anger dissolving into guilt.

He looked at Marie.

Then on the floor.

Then back at Marie.

“I’m… sorry,” he mumbled.

Marie sniffled, then threw her arms around him.

He hugged her back — awkward at first, then tighter, like he was afraid she might slip away again.

The tension in the air loosened.

Olivia released Erika’s shoulders.

Erika lowered her finger.

Marie’s sobs softened into hiccups.

And Sera—

Sera exhaled shakily, her shoulders dropping as the noise of the arcade faded back in around her.

She blinked hard, grounding herself again.

The moment passed.

But the echo lingered.

The tension eased further as Marie clung to her brother, her tiny shoulders finally relaxing.

Her brother’s posture sagged with relief, the last of his frustration melting into something small and ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I didn’t mean it.”

Marie nodded against his shirt. “I didn’t mean to get lost.”

“I know,” he murmured.

They stayed like that for a moment — two small figures in the middle of a noisy arcade, clinging to each other like the world had almost tilted too far.

Olivia wiped a dramatic tear from her eye. “Sibling redemption arc.”

Erika exhaled, lowering her finger. “At least it ended well.”

Soren stood slowly, brushing dust from his jeans. A soft smile lingered on his face — not triumphant, not proud, just relieved. Gentle.

They watched the siblings walk away, Marie hugging her stuffed dragon like it was a life‑preserver, her brother gripping her hand with both of his — as if letting go once had been one time too many.

Olivia leaned on her crutches, voice softening into something almost sentimental. “He’s going to be a great big brother when he grows up.”

Erika nudged her. “He’s already a big brother.”

“Exactly,” Olivia said, as if that somehow proved her point.

Soren let out a quiet laugh — warm, small, the kind that slipped out before he could stop it.

But Sera didn’t laugh.

She watched the siblings disappear into the crowd, her expression unreadable.

Her hands were still curled into fists at her sides, faint crescents pressed into her palms.

Her breathing had steadied, but her eyes were distant — unfocused, like she was staring through the arcade instead of at it.

Like she was looking at something she didn’t want to remember.

Olivia finally noticed the tension in her shoulders. “Sera…?”

Sera blinked, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine. Just… glad she’s okay.”

Her voice was steady.

Too steady.

Erika’s brows pinched, a tiny crease forming between them, but she didn’t push. The crisis was over. The kid was safe. Everything was supposed to be fine now.

Soren nodded, accepting her answer without pressing. But his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer — thoughtful, gentle, quietly observant.