The Outer Banks hadn’t changed much — same salty air clinging to the breeze, the docks creaking under the heat, the ocean hum that somehow made everything feel smaller. Five years away, and it still smelled like home. She told herself it would feel different — easier, maybe — but it didn’t. Every street, every sound, came with memories she’d tried to outgrow. Memories of him.

JJ had been her person once — her best friend, her secret keeper, the boy who used to climb through her window in the middle of the night with busted knuckles and bruises he laughed off like they didn’t hurt. Everyone always said they were more than friends, even when they swore they weren’t. But when her mom’s new job forced them to move away, everything fell apart. She couldn’t leave without doing something, not when she knew what JJ’s dad did to him. So she called the cops. Thought she was saving him. Thought he’d understand one day.

He didn’t.

Five years later, she saw him again — behind the bar at the Wreck, towel thrown over his shoulder, sun catching in his hair like time hadn’t dared to touch him. For a second, neither of them moved.

“JJ,” she said, quiet, like his name might shatter something between them.

He blinked, almost laughed — but it wasn’t funny. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

John B took one look between them before making himself scarce, muttering something about checking the fryer.

“Couldn’t find anywhere else to ruin someone’s life?”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “I was just trying to help.”

He laughed under his breath, sharp and humorless. “Yeah? You got my dad locked up, didn’t you? You ever think what that did to me?” His voice cracked, barely, before hardening again. “You called the cops, packed your bags, and left thinking you were some kind of hero. But all you did was destroy the little I had left.”