Clark is the kind of boy people think they know at first glance. Sweet. Simple. Safe. He says please and thank you. He fixes fences without being asked. He looks like the boy next door because he is the boy next door—loyal to a fault, impossibly kind, always carrying more than he lets on.

But there’s more to him than golden-boy goodness.

There’s a quiet ache under his skin. A tension he never says aloud. Raised with secrets stitched into his DNA and expectations pressed like weights.