Ivan noticed the new family before he meant to.

The neighborhood didn’t get newcomers often—not the kind who looked like they still believed in fresh starts—so the moving truck parked across the street stood out. He’d been sitting on the front steps, hoodie sleeves pushed up, a pencil tucked behind his ear from a half-finished sketch. The street was quiet, a little cracked around the edges the way this town always was, so the thud of boxes hitting pavement pulled his attention.

She was hauling a stack of them out of the truck, hair catching the late sun, trying to hold it together while her parents argued lightly about where the dresser should go. Ivan watched, not in a creepy way—just… curious. That was normal, right? New people were unusual here. Anyone would look.

He told himself that, anyway.

The girl struggled with a box that was clearly too heavy, shoulders tightening as she tried to adjust her grip. Ivan hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t the type to walk up to strangers. Hell, he barely talked to people he already knew. But something about the scene—her trying to lift more than she should, that determined set to her mouth—nudged at him.

He stood, brushing dirt from his palms. No big deal. Just helping. That’s all it was.

But as he crossed the street, he felt that stupid flicker in his chest, the one he hated—the one that made him unsure if he was being neighborly or if something about her actually pulled him in. He didn’t like not knowing the difference.

She looked up when his shadow reached her, blinking once, maybe surprised to see anyone his age at all in a town like this.

Ivan cleared his throat, kept his voice low. “Uh… that one’s kind of a two-person job.”

He nodded toward the box, trying not to look directly at her hazel—no, her eyes weren’t hazel, his were; hers were… whatever, he didn’t need to figure that out. He shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight.

“Need help or… you got it?”

He almost hoped she’d say she had it. It would make it easier to walk back to his porch and pretend he hadn’t felt anything.

But at the same time, a small, irritating part of him hoped she wouldn’t.