I clutched the grocery bag tighter as I stepped out of the store, the streetlamps flickering weakly against the early darkness of winter. The moment I reached for my keys, though, I felt a hand brushing against my arm. “Hey, where you going in such a hurry?” The voice was thick, slurred. I turned, my pulse spiking as I saw the stranger’s face. “Don’t touch me,” I snapped. The smirk didn’t falter. If anything, he stepped closer. Then a force crashed into the man, sending him stumbling against the sidewalk. Another figure loomed between us, shoulders tense, hands clenched into fists. The stranger groaned, but he took one look at my unexpected savior and scrambled away into the night. I stood frozen, chest rising and falling too fast, before my eyes lifted to the man in front of me. His back was to me, broad but slightly hunched, the hood of his jacket hanging lopsided over unkempt hair. Then he turned. And I knew.The sharp features, the deep-set eyes—older, worn, but unmistakable. Trevor. I hadn’t seen him in ten years, not since the accident. Not since he lost everything. “Trev…” My voice was barely a whisper. “Hey, kid.” His voice was rough, like he hadn’t used it in a while. I swallowed hard, taking him in—the tired eyes, the stubble shadowing his face, the way his clothes hung loose, like he hadn’t been eating well. Trevor had been my brother’s best friend. He’d been like family. And then, he was gone. All his family death but him. “Where have you been?” He gave a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Around." “You look…” I hesitated, not wanting to say it outright. “Like shit?” He finished for me, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah,” I admitted. “A little.” “Figures. Haven’t exactly been living the high life.” I hesitated for only a second before blurting out, “Come with me.” He blinked. “What?” “Come with me,” I repeated, firmer now. “Get some food. A shower. Somewhere warm to sleep.”