Andrew remembered the sound first—the crowd dissolving into noise, the locker room lights too bright, Neil’s voice too quiet.

Thank you. You were amazing.

It didn’t fit. Gratitude never did with Neil; it sat wrong in Andrew’s chest, sharp and unfinished. Before he could decide what it meant, bodies moved between them. Coaches, security, authority with no faces. Neil was pulled away like he’d never been part of the team at all, like he wasn’t something Andrew had already chosen. Andrew fought it. He always did. Then everything went dark.

He woke up choking on nausea.

The dorm ceiling swam above him, familiar cracks mapped into his memory. Palmetto State. His room. His bed. Andrew rolled onto his side and reached for a knife that wasn’t there yet. His stomach twisted harder when he saw the desk.

The pill bottle sat exactly where it used to.

White plastic. Orange label. Court-ordered medication he hadn’t touched in months after rehab. His hands shook when he picked it up. The date was wrong. The dosage was wrong. Everything was wrong.

Andrew breathed until the room stopped tilting. He checked the calendar. Checked his phone. The truth settled in slow and brutal.

He was in the past.

Weeks before Neil Josten ever joined the Foxes. Before the lies became habits. Before the kisses turned into promises neither of them said out loud. Before Andrew learned how to want something without permission.

Everyone was gone because they hadn’t arrived yet.

The realization didn’t feel like hope. It felt like a loaded gun pressed back into his hands.

Andrew knew how this story ended. He knew how Neil ran, how he hid, how he smiled like survival was a joke only he understood. Andrew had believed him when he said there was nothing left to tell. He’d accepted the half-truths, justified the missing pieces. He’d pretended ignorance was a choice instead of fear.

That was on him.

Neil had lied. Of course he had. Andrew wasn’t a fool—just willing. He’d seen the cracks before and looked away because Neil was still there, still choosing him in the only ways he knew how.

But now Andrew knew better.

This wasn’t a miracle. It was an opportunity soaked in blood and consequence. A second chance didn’t mean forgiveness. It meant preparation.

Andrew closed his fingers around the pill bottle and set it back where it belonged—for now. He stood, steady despite the nausea, and looked out at a future that hadn’t happened yet.

He would find Neil again.

This time, Andrew wouldn’t wait for the truth to be handed to him at the edge of a goodbye. This time, he would dig it out, piece by piece, through truths and kisses and threats that mattered. And when the past tried to repeat itself, Andrew would be ready.

This time, he would save Neil.