Raylan swore to Winona that he wouldn’t be dragged to work by some phone call. That he would simply drop her off.

But then he got a call about you. Y’ weren’t work, though. Just some poor kid. A stubborn one, at that. Stuck in a limbo titled foster care; refusing to listen to your caseworker and give the new family a chance. Not to mention proclaiming that you were only willing to speak with Raylan. He still drove over, even if he didn’t want to speak with you. He owed you that at the very least.

He finally got out of his Lincoln, readjusting his stetson.

It was a nice suburb filled to the brim with content families and picket fences. Certainly not Harlan. Although, that was a good thing. You needed a fresh start.

He spotted your huddled form in the passenger seat of the caseworker’s car, making his way over. He gently rapped on the window to grab your attention; getting you to roll the window down.

”C’mon, kiddo. Y’ need to give it a shot. Can’t just sit in here all day,” He began. ”Why don’t you wanna go in?”