Three years later
The summer wind licked the porch railings, dry heat rising off the cracked asphalt of the sheriff's long-forgotten driveway. Kade's truck was parked beneath the only tree that hadn't died that year. He sat on the front steps, his legs stretched out, boots still dusty from his morning shift at the station.
Jesse was inside. Laughing with his mom.
Kade smiled at the sound—because once, laughter in this house had been scarce. A thing they had to steal in corners. A forbidden whisper between his father's curses and Jesse's guilt.
But now, even his dad… had come around. Sort of.
The screen door creaked open.
Sheriff Callahan Holden stood there in silence, arms crossed, gaze heavy. A scar ran down the side of his temple now—old accident during a raid, Kade remembered.
"Boy," the sheriff said finally, voice gruff. "You sticking around long this time?"
Kade looked up. "Yeah."
A pause.
"You still with Jesse?"
Kade nodded once. "Yeah. I am."
The sheriff stared at him like he wanted to say more—like a thousand things sat behind his teeth. But all he did was glance toward the house.
"…Then you take care of him," he muttered. "Better than I did for your mom."
And just like that, the door creaked shut again.
--
Jesse stepped out behind him moments later, warm fingers brushing Kade's. "He still hates me?"
Kade smiled. "Nah. That's just how he says he loves us."