The next morning, Xavier set out to visit Gracie. His body still ached from yesterday's fight, but it was the guilt that weighed heavier.
Was she okay?
As he hurried down the street toward the hospital, that question looped in his mind like a whisper he couldn't silence. His bruised knuckles throbbed, his ribs sore with every step—but none of that mattered now.
Inside, the hospital smelled sharply of disinfectant, the air too clean, too hollow. A clock ticked somewhere down the corridor, each second scraping against his nerves.
At the front desk, he asked, "Can I see Gracie?"
The nurse gave a nod. "Just a moment. She's being moved to the Pet Ward. You'll find her there."
Relief fluttered inside him, tangled with nerves. Moments later, she led him to a new room and gently shut the door behind him.
Xavier stepped closer, his breath slow and shaky.
"Sorry I couldn't come yesterday," he murmured.
Gracie lifted her head, eyes dim but steady. It's okay. I knew you'd come.
He smiled and ran his fingers through her fur—still rough and singed from the blast. The warmth in her gaze melted something locked tight in his chest.
A vet stepped in with a clipboard, the rustle of paper breaking the quiet. "Gracie's vitals are stable. She's improving. But we'll need to keep her under observation for a few more days."
"Will she be alright?" Xavier asked, not looking away from her.
"We're doing our best. But it's too early to say."
Gracie let out a low whimper. Xavier leaned closer and whispered, "Don't worry, girl. I'm not leaving. We'll get through this."
I'm glad you came, she whispered. I was scared… when Jake destroyed the shop.
His jaw clenched. "I should've stopped him. I'm sorry. But I'll make sure he doesn't get away with it."
Gracie's eyes lit with a flicker of mischief. Then… she turned her head sharply, ears twitching. Her gaze fixed on the corner of the room. Her body went still.
The room itself seemed to hold its breath.
"Why didn't you come to see me tomorrow?" she asked, her voice strange, distant.
Xavier frowned. "You mean yesterday?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes lingered on that empty corner, then slowly returned to him, softer now. Never mind. I must be tired. Everything feels… a bit strange.
"I got into a fight," he said quietly.
Her eyes widened. Are you hurt?
He started to answer—but the door creaked open.
Nurse Lee stepped in. "Time for her check-up."
Xavier fell silent.
He gave Gracie one last stroke along her neck. He could have said more—told her everything—but speaking to an animal in front of humans? Dangerous. At the orphanage, the kids only thought he was odd. A nurse might think he needed locking up.
"I'll tell you later," he whispered. "Promise."
Then he stepped back, not knowing there would be no later.
He forced a smile. "I'll come see you tomorrow. Properly."
Gracie's gaze followed him, quiet and thoughtful. She didn't speak—just blinked slowly, once.
He reached the door, paused, and glanced back.
"Bye, Gracie."
Her ears flicked. Her eyes never left that far-off corner.
And then he left.
*
The wind had picked up. It wasn't cold, but it bit at Xavier's cheeks, sharp and unfriendly, as though the world itself didn't want him anymore. He walked with no destination—just away from the hospital, away from the beeping machines, away from the way Gracie had stared into the corner like she'd seen something no one else could.
Somehow, his feet carried him back to the same narrow street.
The place where the blond man had left him.
But this time, someone else was there.
A red-haired boy sat quietly on the old bench—legs swinging, back straight, as if he'd been waiting a long time.
Xavier stopped dead. "You…"
The boy looked up and smiled. "Took you long enough."
Xavier rushed over. "Where were you? You just disappeared that day! I thought—"
"I couldn't stay," the boy said, calm but not cold. "But I figured you'd come back here. You always do."
Xavier squinted. "What does that even mean? And why are you here?"
The boy stood, and though he couldn't have been older than eleven, there was something steady in his gaze. "Because I need to tell you the truth. My name's Kaido. That part was real. But I'm not just some random kid—I'm a Jinn."
Xavier blinked. "A what?"
"A Jinn," Kaido repeated. "My name means 'unwavering loyalty.' It's Japanese… even though I'm not from Japan. My master just likes learning new languages."
Xavier hesitated. "Master?"
Kaido nodded. "She sent me to find you. We're from Elyndor. And we need your help."
Xavier frowned. "Help with what?"
"Saving people," Kaido said simply. "Your people."
The air between them tightened.
"You don't even know me," Xavier said, voice low. "Why would someone like that send you to find someone like me?"
"Because she believes in you," Kaido said. "And whether you believe it or not… I do too."
Xavier looked down, his chest tight.
"I can't leave," he murmured. "Gracie's still in the hospital. She's not okay."
Kaido didn't argue. He only nodded, something understanding in his eyes. "Then go to her. I'll be back."
Xavier glanced over his shoulder once, then walked away—
heart full,
hands empty.
*
The next morning, the clouds hung low and heavy over Rookford. Xavier was lacing his shoes when the orphanage phone rang from the hallway.
Mrs Blackwood was out hanging laundry, so he picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Xavier? It's me, from the stall—you remember? The tag's ready."
"Oh," he said. His voice came out scratchy. "Thanks. I'll come pick it up."
He walked through town, a soft breeze stirring fallen leaves around his feet. The market was just setting up again, the familiar clink of stalls somehow more distant today.
The stallholder handed him a small velvet pouch. "Here it is. You really took your time with the details—it turned out lovely."
He opened it carefully.
GRACIE
Always by my side
His fingers curled around it. It was everything he'd wanted it to be.
He was about to thank her when a boy from the orphanage came sprinting toward him, waving a slip of paper. "Xavier! You need to come back! The hospital called!"
His legs moved before his mind could catch up.
He burst through the orphanage doors and grabbed the phone off the hook.
The voice on the other end was quiet, kind. "Xavier… I'm so sorry. Gracie passed away peacefully this morning."
He didn't speak.
He couldn't.
The tag pressed into his palm like a weight, heavier than silver should ever feel.
He set the receiver down without a word.
The world outside the orphanage felt too still—like it was holding its breath for him. He stepped out slowly, the velvet pouch still clenched in his hand. It swung against his leg as he walked, like a pendulum counting the seconds since everything had changed.
He didn't know where he was going. His legs carried him down back roads and quiet corners until the streets opened up into the town's small park.
It was almost empty. Just an old swing set, a rusting roundabout, and a wooden bench beneath a tired tree.
He sat.
The silence was loud. His heartbeat, his breath, the occasional rustle of leaves—they filled the space Gracie once did. He didn't sob, didn't shout. The tears simply came—falling one by one onto his lap, soaking into the fabric without ceremony.
A dog collar. A tag. An empty bed in a quiet hospital room.
He looked down at the pouch again but didn't open it. He couldn't.
Laughter floated across the park.
Xavier glanced up, blinking through blurred vision. A small boy scrambled up the slide's ladder, his mother watching from a nearby bench. She clapped gently when he made it to the top, and he raised his arms like a tiny champion.
For a second, Xavier smiled. Just a flicker.
Then the boy slipped.
He hit the bark mulch with a surprised cry, clutching his elbow. Xavier was on his feet before he even thought about it, crossing the grass in a heartbeat.
He knelt beside the boy. "Hey, it's alright. Let me see."
The boy sniffled, clutching his arm. Xavier gently rolled up the sleeve and pulled a plaster from his pocket—something he always carried, just in case Gracie ever got hurt. He cleaned the scrape with a tissue and stuck the plaster over it.
"All fixed," he said softly. "You've officially survived your first slide crash."
The boy giggled through his tears. His mother hurried over, relief written all over her face.
"Thank you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Really. That was so kind of you."
Xavier only nodded.
She murmured a quick blessing under her breath—something old-fashioned and sweet—then took her son's hand and walked away.
Xavier returned to the bench.
He sat again, heavier than before. Not because of the weight in his hand, but the one in his chest.
A shadow fell across him.
"You're a kind person," said a familiar voice. "That's why my master believes in you."
Xavier looked up.
The red-haired boy was back—same mischievous spark in his eyes, but softer now, as though he knew when not to joke.
Kaido dropped onto the bench beside him and swung his legs like a little kid. "See, my lord—you're not useless." He grinned. "Though you will be… unless you actually lift a finger."
Xavier huffed a tired breath… and smiled. Just a little.
He reached into his pocket and touched the name tag he'd worked so hard for.
Gracie's name shimmered faintly beneath his fingertips.
He wasn't ready—but maybe he never would be.
He had nothing left to hold onto in the world behind him.
And maybe—just maybe—the strange path ahead was where his answers lay.