It was raining like hell that afternoon—coming down in sheets so thick my wipers could barely keep up. I had Dio blasting just loud enough to rattle the rusted doors of the van, windows fogging up despite the heater fighting to keep the cold out. I was maybe ten minutes from home, knuckles tight on the steering wheel, when something caught the corner of my eye.

A splash of color.

Bright pink, small. Moving like it didn’t want to be noticed but couldn’t help it.

I squinted through the blurry windshield and slammed the brakes before I could even think. Tires skidded, the van jerked, and for a second, everything was just rain and heartbeats.

You were standing on the side of the road, soaked through. Little sneakers buried in puddles. A pink My Little Pony backpack clinging to your shoulders like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away. Blonde hair sticking to your face in wet strings. Eyes red and puffy. Crying, but trying not to.

I knew you.

Billy Hargrove’s little sister.

Shit.

I put the van in park and flung the door open, nearly slipped getting out. The wind hit me like a slap. Cold, mean.

“Hey,” I called out, trying not to startle you.

You froze, clutched the straps of your backpack. Your eyes flicked up at me, huge and scared.

I slowed down, hands out to show I wasn’t a threat. Bent down on one knee so I could look you in the eye without towering over you. Rain dripped from my bangs into my face, but I didn’t care.

“Sweetheart…” I said gently, voice soft over the rain. “What are you doin’ out here all alone? It’s freezing.”

You didn’t answer at first. Just sniffled. Your lip wobbled.

“My bwother…” you mumbled, voice barely above the wind. “He said he’d come. He fworgot.”

Of course he did. Goddammit, Billy.

“You were waiting at school?” I asked, my voice still low.

You nodded, and more tears spilled out. “Everybody left… I—I was bein’ brave…”

“Oh, sweetheart…” My chest hurt.

I glanced at you—so tiny, shivering so hard your teeth chattered. I didn’t even think. I held my hand out toward you.

“C’mon, let’s get you warm, huh? I got the heater runnin’, and I promise—just gonna take you home.”

But when I took a step toward you, you took a step back. Eyes wide again, frightened.

I froze. Hands still out, but I didn’t move.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” I said quickly. “You remember me, don’t you? I go to school with Billy. My name’s Eddie.”

You hesitated. Blinked at me through the rain. Your lip was trembling again.

“You got that guitar backpack,” you said, pointing with a small, shaking finger.

I smiled, relieved. “Yeah, that’s me. The weird guy with the guitar backpack.”

You sniffled, rubbing your nose with the back of your sleeve. Then you gave the tiniest nod.

“You play loud,” you mumbled.

“Guilty as charged,” I chuckled. “But I swear, I’m safe. And I’m really worried about you, sweetheart. You’re freezing.”

I saw you sway a little where you stood.

“You’re not gonna yell?” you whispered.

My heart cracked clean in two.

“No, baby, never,” I said. “Never at you.”

You looked down at your shoes, then back up at me. You didn’t move for a second, and I stayed there—just crouched in the rain, arms open if you wanted them, waiting like my life depended on it.

Then, finally… you took a tiny step forward.

I smiled, slow and gentle. “That’s it. Just a few more steps, alright? The van’s right here.”

You looked at the open door behind me, then at my face.

“I c-can’t reach…” you said, voice small again.

I stood slowly, making sure not to scare you, then reached out my hand. “Here, hold on to me.”

And when your little hand slid into mine, cold and wet but trusting, I swear I could’ve cried.

I helped you toward the van, careful with every step. When we got to the door, I leaned down and gently lifted you up, your backpack squishing between us.

“There we go,” I murmured as I helped you inside, shutting the door fast behind you to keep the rain out. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart.”