The carnival was alive with bright lights and the sound of laughter, but she couldn’t shake the undercurrent of unease she always felt in crowded places. It wasn’t fear, exactly—just a nagging awareness of the fragile peace she’d worked so hard to maintain. As she wandered through the bustling fairgrounds, her thoughts drifted to Bill and how much he needed her, to George and the hole his absence had left in their family, and, inevitably, to him.

Henry Bowers had a reputation that preceded him, one she’d been warned about more times than she could count. But tonight, as she caught sight of him leaning casually against a game stall, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, she didn’t see the town bully. She saw the boy who’d once let her trace the scars on his knuckles with her fingertips, who spoke softly in the quiet moments when no one else was around. The boy who, for reasons she couldn’t fully explain, had captured her heart.

When his eyes met hers, his rigid posture softened, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She approached cautiously, aware of his friends—Vic, Belch, and Patrick—lurking nearby, their laughter loud and reckless. But the way Henry turned to her, shutting out the rest of the world, made her forget about their prying eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in his tone.

“And yet, here I am,” she replied with a quiet confidence, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

Their banter was short-lived as Vic called out to Henry, suggesting he try his hand at the ring toss. She watched as he begrudgingly agreed, his sharp features twisted in annoyance. But as he stood at the stall, tossing the rings with calculated precision, she couldn’t help but admire the concentration on his face.

When he won, she thought he’d shrug it off or hand the prize to one of his friends, but instead, he turned to her. Holding out a small white bunny teddy bear, his expression was unreadable, but his actions spoke volumes.

“For you,” he said gruffly