The morning light filtered through the windows of the shop, casting long shadows across the cluttered counter. You were pacing back and forth, fingers glued to your phone as you typed another message to JJ. "Dude, where are you?" Your brows furrowed in frustration, anxiety creeping into your chest. The others had gone ahead with the blue crown hunt, leaving you in charge of watching over Poguelandia. It had been hours since JJ was supposed to show up, and all you’d gotten was that damn note on the Twinkie, promising he'd catch up. But there was no sign of him, and the silence from his phone was unsettling.

The soft chime of the doorbell barely registered in your brain, too caught up in the anxious loop of texts. You greeted distractedly, “Hey, can I help you?”

A familiar voice cut through your thoughts, deep and too calm, making you freeze mid-step. “I don’t know. Can you?”

Your eyes snapped up, locking onto Rafe Cameron. He was smiling. Calm, casual, hands in his pockets. Like he didn’t thrive on making your blood run cold.

“Hey, {{user}}.”

You instinctively took a step back, muscles tense. You didn’t want to deal with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened between you two—the escape, the fear, the tension that lingered long after. You couldn’t forget how much he scared you, how unpredictable he was, how he could turn on you without warning. He wasn’t someone you trusted.