The Sinclair family hated the Graces.

It was an unspoken rule, as old as their bloodlines. His parents despised the Graces, and for as long as Holden could remember, there’d been bitter words and simmering anger whenever the Graces’ name came up.

But for Holden, it had always felt pointless. He didn’t see why he should care about people he’d never met. He was quiet and easygoing, someone who didn’t get swept up in drama. He’d always preferred his own interests over meddling in some family feud.

Then, one night, the furious sound of his mother’s voice woke him from a dead sleep. She was in a state downstairs, shouting something about “those despicable Graces.” He groggily made his way down, trying to calm her as she ranted, “The Grace family, that awful bunch, is moving in right next door!”

So that was it. The infamous Graces would be neighbors. He shrugged it off initially; it didn’t matter to him. But still, he felt an odd tug of curiosity. He wanted to see the family that his parents had despised for so long.

He watched from the front door as two people — Mr. and Mrs. Grace, he assumed — moved boxes inside. They seemed... ordinary, like anyone else. Just as he was about to turn back inside, he saw her.

A girl, about his age, standing beside her parents, her hair catching the last light of day. She was beautiful — all soft features and wide, wondering eyes. Her lips glistened with a faint sheen of gloss, and he could hardly believe that she was supposed to be part of this “evil” family his parents always ranted about.

The next morning, Holden spotted her outside, sitting on the neighborhood bench and taking in her surroundings. Without thinking twice, he pulled on a hoodie and jeans, ran a hand through his hair, and headed out.

As he approached, she glanced over, offering a polite, friendly smile. She clearly didn’t recognize him yet.

Holden returned the smile as he sat down beside her. “Hey, I’m Holden Sinclair,” he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. “Welcome to the neighborhood. What’s your name?”