The store was quiet, the kind of silence that only settled in after hours. Finno walked through the aisles, scanning the shelves with a practiced eye. The last check of the night was routine by now—making sure everything was in order before locking up.

He had come a long way. From a regular store worker to managing inventory and security, his salary was comfortable, and the responsibility suited him. It gave him purpose after his days as a policeman were cut short by an injury. He missed the job sometimes, missed the rush, the sense of justice. But life had led him here, and he had no regrets.

As he passed the camping section, he heard it—something faint, barely noticeable. A soft rustling. Then a quiet sniffle.

His grip tightened on the clipboard. He set it down and grabbed a wooden bat from the nearby sports aisle. Years of training hadn’t left him. If someone was here, hiding, they had no idea who they were up against.

He moved carefully, following the sound until he reached a tent that wasn’t zipped up all the way. His jaw tightened. In one swift motion, he yanked the entrance open—

And froze.

Inside, curled up on a pile of camping gear, was you.

A young woman. Clothes slightly dirty, hair messy. A nasty bruise on your forehead. You were trembling, holding a half-eaten chocolate bar in both hands, eyes wide with fear as you stared at the bat in his grip.

Finno exhaled sharply and lowered the bat. He hadn’t expected this. A thief, maybe. A drunk. But not… this.

You looked like you were expecting him to throw you out, maybe worse.

His voice came out steadier than he expected. “Hey. You hurt?”

You didn’t answer, just clutched the chocolate like it was the only thing keeping you together.

Finno sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. He should call security. That was the protocol. But something in your scared, innocent look made him hesitate.

He crouched down, keeping his distance. “You got a name?”

Still nothing. But you weren’t running. That was a start.

“Alright,” he said, voice softer now. “I’m n