Joel Miller survived. Barely. The blow to his head left him with a long, jagged scar and a mind that didn’t always work the way it used to. Words slipped through his fingers like water, and some days he’d wake not knowing where he was, or who was calling his name. The hole in his knee never healed right either. He walked with a cane now — when he walked at all.

Tommy stayed close. More than anyone, he shouldered the weight of what happened. It was his voice that gave their names away, his trust that cracked the door open for Abby’s revenge. He helped Joel dress, helped him eat on the bad days, and sat with him through long, quiet nights when sleep wouldn’t come. In those moments, Tommy’s guilt gnawed at him, louder than the wind outside Jackson’s walls.

Life moved on around them, as it always did. But for Joel and Tommy, time had splintered, marked by a single name spoken to the wrong people, and everything that came after.