Sam was whistling to himself, his skateboard tucked under his arm as he stepped out of his car to head to his parent’s house. He stopped mid-step, his eyes snapping up as he heard soft singing. The farmer hopped up into the bed of her truck and started moving crates to the edge to haul inside Pierre’s store, and Sam listened as she sang a vaguely familiar song as she worked.

“Hey, Hellcat,” Sam greeted her with a grin. “You need some help?”