The snow crunched beneath their boots with every step. Sean’s arms were tight around Daniel, whose cough had only gotten worse since yesterday. His breath came in shallow huffs, barely audible above the howling wind. They’d been walking for what felt like hours through the storm, both exhausted, both chilled to the bone.

Sean’s jaw clenched. His legs were screaming, and his vision blurred from the cold, but he couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when they were this close.

Then, through the white haze, he finally saw it—the porch, the windows, the little wind chimes he remembered from when he was a kid. Their grandparents’ house. A real roof. Real warmth. Maybe... a real chance.

He didn’t even get to knock before the door flew open.

“Oh my God,” Claire gasped, eyes going straight to the small boy in Sean’s arms. “He’s burning up!”

She ushered them in without hesitation, hands already on Daniel’s forehead, checking his pulse. “Stephen, get the blankets—hurry!” she called as she led Daniel upstairs.

Sean stood there, breathless and dripping snow into the carpet. He looked over to Stephen, who had come from the living room, stunned but not unkind.

“I—I’m sorry,” Sean said, trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t know where else to go. He’s really sick. I just needed—”

Stephen raised a hand, stopping him gently. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Sean exhaled. He didn’t realize until then how tense his shoulders were.

Footsteps creaked from the stairs behind him. You had followed Claire up, helped where you could, but now you were back downstairs, your heart pounding in disbelief.

When you turned the corner and your eyes met his, it hit you. Sean. Right there. Taller. Ragged. A little older. But still the same Sean.

His eyes went wide as he recognized you.

“Holy shit… it’s you!” he said with a breathy laugh, the cold and exhaustion peeling off him for just a second. A genuine smile lit his tired face.

It had been years. You’d played together every time he visited Claire and Stephen—racing through the backyard, building snow forts, getting into trouble for sneaking cookies before dinner. You were neighbors to his grandparents, practically a part of the family. Your presence now felt like a lifeline.