The cafeteria smelled like fried chicken, cinnamon rolls, and way too much perfume for a Tuesday afternoon. Zara sat across from Henry, her fork lazily chasing a piece of plantain around her plate as he animatedly recapped his weekend basketball game.
"You should have seen me, Zara," Henry grinned, leaning back with mock pride. "Fourth quarter, thirty seconds on the clock, and bam—three-pointer. I swear the crowd went insane."
Zara smirked. "You've told me this story twice already. I'm starting to think you're more obsessed with yourself than the game."
Henry clutched his chest. "Wow. And here I thought I was your favorite person on campus."
"You're still in the top ten," she teased, taking a sip of her drink.
They'd been talking about everything and nothing—family vacations, the upcoming end-of-semester party, Henry's eternal single status—when the atmosphere shifted.
Sky walked in.
It was like a shadow passing over the sun. Zara didn't even realize she'd stopped mid-chew until Henry followed her gaze.
Sky was impossible to miss: tall, broad-shouldered, black hoodie framing his face, his dark hair falling just enough to shadow those unreadable eyes. AirPods in. Head slightly lowered. He moved like he didn't owe the world so much as a glance.
Zara's chest tightened. She hated that she noticed him. Hated that she still remembered his half-smile from their first meeting before he'd turned into the human embodiment of a locked door.
Henry leaned in. "That the guy?"
"What guy?" she asked, too quickly.
He raised an eyebrow. "The one who's been walking around here like he's allergic to human interaction."
Zara rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic."
"Me? Never."
Sky passed their table without so much as a glance, heading toward the far corner where the vending machines stood. He was scrolling through his phone, one AirPod tucked deeper into his ear. His body language screamed untouchable.
Then his phone rang.
It wasn't loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear, but Zara saw the way he froze before answering. His voice—calm, almost too calm—was nothing like the cold, dismissive silence she'd gotten used to.
"Yeah?" A pause. "What happened?" His tone sharpened. The air around him seemed to tighten.
Zara didn't mean to listen, but his voice carried just enough.
"Hospital?" Sky's hand gripped the phone tighter. "Which one?" Another pause. His jaw clenched. "I'm on my way."
He shoved his phone into his pocket, his other hand raking through his hair as though to clear the static from his head. Without another glance at anyone, he turned and strode toward the door.
Henry frowned. "Did he just say—?"
"Hospital," Zara finished for him. Her voice was quiet, but her pulse wasn't. "And… grandma, I think. But why would—"
"Why would Mr. Too-Cool-For-Everyone look like he's about to sprint across town?" Henry leaned back, watching Sky disappear through the doors.
Zara stared at the empty space he'd left behind. Something about the urgency in his voice had stuck under her skin, a thorn she couldn't pull out.
---
Two Hours Later
Sky pushed open the hospital doors, the fluorescent lights painting everything in harsh white. He moved quickly, ignoring the antiseptic smell and the squeak of nurses' shoes against polished floors. At the reception desk, his voice was low but firm.
"I'm here for Evelyn Blackwood. She was brought in—yes, I'm family."
The nurse checked her chart, then gave him a room number. Sky was halfway down the hall before she'd even looked up again.
Outside the door, he paused, bracing himself.
Inside, the steady beep of a heart monitor filled the room. His grandmother lay in the bed, her skin pale, her silver hair fanned across the pillow.
A doctor glanced up from the chart, meeting Sky's eyes.
"We need to talk," the doctor said quietly.
Sky's jaw tightened. "About what?"
The doctor hesitated. "Not here."
Sky followed him out into the hall. The door clicked shut behind them.
The doctor's voice dropped. "This isn't just about the fall. There's something else—something you need to know."
---