Three weeks into Grey's stay, Mara had figured out a way to keep things going without actually accepting he might stick around for good. Every morning, she'd bring him coffee and toast, and every night, dinner. They'd chat a bit, but it was all just about what needed to be done, the usual stuff.
Emma, the little girl, had gotten over being suspicious of this random guy in the back room. She started leaving him little goodies, like drawings she made, cool rocks she found in the yard, and flowers she picked from Miriam's garden when she thought no one could see her. Grey took these gifts seriously, like they were the best things ever, and displayed them on a shelf by his bed like they were treasures.
Dr. Ortiz would swing by twice a week, bringing books, puzzles, and that same calm, non-judgy vibe. She never pushed him to spill his guts or anything, but she made it clear she was there to chat if he felt like it.
One day, during her fourth visit, Grey dropped his first real sentence since getting there.
"Autumn," he said out of the blue, breaking a long silence.
Dr. Ortiz glanced up from her notes. "What's up with autumn?"
"The song," he replied, his voice a bit stronger. "It's about autumn, but the leaves are going grey, not gold."
"Is that weird for leaves to go grey?"
Grey took his sweet time before answering. "Where I was before, there weren't any seasons. Just hot, then hotter. When I try to think of home, I think about autumn in PA, with all the pretty colors. But in the song, it's like the leaves are dying."
This was huge for him—his longest sentence since getting better from that nasty fever. Dr. Ortiz scribbled down notes, knowing this was a big deal.
After the doc left, Grey started thinking about their chat. He actually got up and wandered around the house, peeking out windows and taking in the scenery. It turned out October had rolled in without him noticing, and the trees around Mara's place were putting on a show—deep reds and glowing golds. It was beautiful, but also kind of sad in a way that made his heart feel weird.
Mara caught him by the kitchen window, watching Emma play outside.
"She's nuts about autumn," Mara said, joining him. "Last year, she tried to collect every leaf from the big oak. Made a mountain of 'em in her room."
"You guys look alike," Grey pointed out.
"That's what people say." Mara gave him a side-eye. "How you feeling?"
It was the first time she'd asked him something personal that wasn't about his health.
"Different," he said after thinking for a bit. "Not exactly better, but different."
Later that night, while Mara was cooking dinner, she started humming the tune she'd been hearing Grey sing in his sleep. She didn't even realize it until he popped into the kitchen, looking spooked.
"Where'd you learn that?" he asked.
Mara blushed, stopping mid-tune. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... You've been singing it in your sleep, and I guess it stuck."
"You know the words?"
"Yeah, Mrs. Caldwell told me about it. It's an old family song, something she used to sing to her kids."
Grey looked really interested. "Could I talk to her?"
So, the next afternoon, Miriam Caldwell, the town's wise old bird, came over with tea and stories. She told them how the song had been in her family for ages, sung to soothe kids and get them through tough times. Grey sat there, really listening for once.
"What's the deal with the words?" he asked.
Miriam took a moment. "It's about those times when everything feels grey and dead inside, but somehow, life finds a way to keep going."
"What about the 'Cr Cr Cr' part?"
"Oh, that's just the sound of a heart trying to remember how to beat after it's been broken. Like a car engine on a cold morning, you know?"
Grey really wanted to hear her sing it, so she did. It was about hope and seasons of the heart, and when she finished, Grey had tears in his eyes. It reminded him of his mom singing it to him when he was a baby.
The next day, Grey woke up and said he wanted to help out with the farm. Mara knew he wasn't up for heavy lifting, but she figured some light work would do him good.
"There's chicken feed to spread," she told him, "and the fence in the back needs fixing."
Grey nodded. "I can handle that."
So, there he was, starting to get back into the swing of things, taking the first step toward being part of the world again. And all because of a little song and some kindness from people who'd taken him in when he had nowhere else to go. Ain't that something?