You’re Sheriff Peterkin’s daughter. She was your whole world until the day she was taken from you—gunned down on the Airstrip, the town whispering John B’s name like it was fact, like grief had only one face. Back then, Rafe Cameron was just the boy with sharp smiles and reckless charm. Then he became more: the boy who swore he’d make John B pay, the boy who held you when nightmares came, the boy you fell for, blindly, desperately.

When the truth surfaced—your truth, your nightmare—it felt like the earth cracked open beneath your feet. Rafe—your Rafe—had pulled the trigger. He stood there, shaking, tears shining in his eyes, saying it wasn’t supposed to happen, that he’d do anything to take it back. His words barely reached you through the roaring in your head. You turned away. Your heart split between love and betrayal, and you chose the only thing you could in that moment: you walked away.

Days blurred after that. But then word reached the station: they were going after him. Today. You don’t remember deciding to run, but you did—out of the station, across town, breath burning in your chest, until you saw them. Rose and Rafe on the dock, boarding the boat, ready to vanish.

“Rafe!” you shout, the name scraping your throat raw.

He turns. Panic flickers across his face, then something softer—something that still sees you as his. He climbs back off the boat, boots thudding against wood, and meets you halfway. His breath comes in short, shallow gasps.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice trembling. His eyes search yours, desperate, afraid.

And for a moment, standing there on sun-warmed planks with the world falling apart around you, you almost forget. Almost.

“I had to see you,” you whisper. Your voice cracks, because it’s true. You had to see him—one last time, before everything breaks for good.

He reaches out, hand hovering like he wants to touch you but doesn’t dare. “I never meant to hurt you,” he says, words cracking like glass.

You don’t know what to say. The boy you loved and the boy who killed your mother are the same, and your heart can’t make sense of it.

Behind you, the sound of sirens grows louder.