The field was empty now.
Even the wind had quieted, as if it too had slipped away to gossip about Ethan Carrington's dramatic entrance.
Only James Kane remained—sitting on the edge of the concrete steps, bruised and bloody, staring at the horizon like it owed him an explanation.
Avery watched him for a long time, hidden behind the overgrown hedges. She'd seen that face every day in family photo albums—older, stronger, more composed—but this version? This version made her heart ache.
He was just a boy. Just a beaten-up, angry, half-grown boy with too much pride and no one to lean on.
And now… he's mine to protect.
Avery stepped out, brushing stray leaves from her T-shirt and walking slowly down the slope. Her bare feet crunched in the dirt.
James looked up sharply at the sound.
Their eyes met.
His narrowed. "...Were you spying?"
"Walking," she replied quickly, then winced. Great start.
He frowned. "You're the goose girl?"
She blinked. "What?"
He stared. "The noise. Like someone choking on a squeaky toy?"
Avery gave a weak smile. "I prefer 'mysterious woman of the wind,' thanks."
James didn't laugh. But his lip twitched, just barely.
Then his eyes scanned her again. "You look like you've been hit by a time machine."
You have no idea.
"I…" Avery swallowed and stepped closer. "I just—needed to see your face."
"Okay, that's not creepy at all," he muttered, straightening up. "Who are you?"
She bit her lip. Her throat tightened unexpectedly. "You… you remind me of someone."
James tilted his head.
"My dad," she said, voice soft, cracked at the edges. "You… really remind me of my dad."
His gaze softened, just for a second.
Then, cautiously, "He die recently?"
"Sort of," she whispered. "A year ago."
"I'm sorry."
They stood in silence. A bird chirped somewhere behind the gym building. A leaf fell and landed squarely on James's shoulder.
"You're really weird," he added after a moment.
Avery laughed under her breath. "Thanks."
James squinted. "Are you actually lost?"
She hesitated. "Yes. And I don't… have anywhere to stay. I don't even know where I am."
He crossed his arms, skeptical. "No ID? No phone? What are you, a runaway?"
She didn't reply.
His expression shifted—something between irritation and unease.
"You're not like… from some cult, are you?"
Avery rolled her eyes. "Do I look like I worship goats?"
James paused. "That's exactly what someone from a goat cult would say."
"Please," she said, quieter now. "I'm just… tired. I didn't plan this."
He studied her for a long moment.
Then, finally, he sighed. "You can crash at my place. For one night."
"Really?"
"Don't thank me. My grandparents are nosy, and my room smells like sweat and cheap deodorant."
Avery smiled. "Sounds like paradise."
...
James's home was small and modest—peeling paint, creaky doors, and a dog that wouldn't stop barking at Avery like she owed it rent.
After a quick (very awkward) dinner, James stepped outside to meet someone.
Naturally, Avery followed.
Not directly—just enough to stay within earshot, tucked behind a corner where the old shed sagged in protest against the weight of time.
Two boys stood on the edge of the yard, shadows long in the setting sun. One of them had a cigarette hanging from his lips and a scowl carved deep into his face.
"Are you serious, James?" the friend growled. "Carrington? You actually talked to that bastard?"
James leaned against the fence, arms folded. "He wasn't what I expected."
"He's a freak," the boy snapped. "Rich. Untouchable. His family owns half the damn city."
"Exactly," James muttered.
There was something in his tone—cool, deliberate, like he knew something Avery didn't.
"Are you planning something?" the friend hissed. "Tell me you're not being stupid."
James didn't answer.
The silence said enough.
Avery's brows furrowed. What are you doing, Dad?
She didn't have time to linger. A pair of footsteps approached from the opposite side.
A girl appeared—a soft, pretty thing with curly auburn hair and dimples that could end a war. She wore a pink cardigan and looked like she'd stepped out of a vintage movie.
Avery froze as she stepped right up to James.
He smiled.
He smiled.
That same crooked smile she'd only ever seen aimed at her when she was a child.
The girl reached up and fixed a bandage on his cheek.
They were close. Too close.
Avery leaned forward on instinct—and her heart sank.
He kissed the girl's forehead.
Not a friend.
Not a classmate.
A girlfriend.
Not my mother.
Her breath caught.
Not because she didn't expect him to have a life before her mother. But because this moment made it real. He'd loved someone else. Had a whole other story she never knew.
It hit like a punch she wasn't braced for.
She stepped back, careful not to make a sound.
James was laughing softly now, the kind of laugh he'd lost years later. The kind that never made it past the grief.
And somehow, it broke her.
This boy wasn't yet the man she knew. He wasn't a father. Wasn't a protector.
He was just a boy trying to survive Greyhaven.