She’d been walking for almost thirty minutes now, and the woods were starting to look more and more like a bad idea.

The branches snapped under her sneakers, the wind whispering through the trees, carrying every sound just far enough to make her feel alone. Really alone.

The last few weeks had been heavy.

Too heavy.

Her parents didn’t say much, but she wasn’t stupid. Her mom was sick. Really sick. The kind of sick they tried to hide behind forced smiles and whispered conversations in the kitchen after bedtime. The kind that had her dad home less and at the hospital more. The kind that had turned her into a full-time big sister, housekeeper, emotional buffer, and student all at once.

She loved Stiles — God, she loved that kid. But he was ten. Loud. Sharp. Restless. And she was seventeen and unraveling.

That’s why she came out here. To breathe. To not be needed for a second.

She’d come here before, just a few days ago, and maybe—selfishly—she’d hoped she’d find her again. Laura. The girl who had appeared like something out of a storybook just as she’d started to cry, who had pulled her into a quiet, grounding hug and told her, without hesitation, “Come find me if you need anything.”

Only problem?

She didn’t know where Laura lived.

And now she wasn’t just overwhelmed — she was lost.

The trees all looked the same. Her phone had no signal. Her backpack was too heavy and her eyes were already stinging again. She wiped her sleeve across her face and took a deep breath, trying not to cry, trying not to panic—

“You shouldn’t be here.”

She froze.

The voice was low, cool, cutting through the forest air like a blade.

She turned quickly, heart skipping.

There was a boy standing a few meters away, tall and broad-shouldered, probably around her age. Dark hair tousled like he’d been running. Eyes sharp and green, studying her like she’d just triggered an alarm system.

And there was something… familiar about him.

“That’s private property,” he added, folding his arms.