Oakland hadn’t changed as much as you thought it would. The paint still peeled on the basketball courts, the chain-link fences still rattled when the wind swept through, and the kids on the corner still laughed like they had no idea how the world was built to crush them. You were here to help them, to give them something better—books, art, anything to keep them from falling into the cracks.

But then you saw him.

Erik. The boy who used to run these same streets with you, who once shared popsicles on hot summer nights and swore he’d make something of himself. Only now, he wasn’t that boy. The man standing in front of you wore gold chains and a look that could cut steel.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” Erik said, voice low, dangerous—but softer when his eyes landed on you.

“Guess I could say the same.” You tried to keep your voice steady, but there was something in the way he looked at you—like he already owned the space between you, like he’d been waiting.

“You still out here tryin’ to fix people?” He smirked, but it wasn’t cruel. “Still got that heart?”