Friday morning came with a thin layer of fog still clinging to the streets, the kind that made everything feel slower than it really was.
Lincoln sat in his car across from the school, engine off, one arm resting on the steering wheel. The building looked the same as it always had—brick walls, iron gates, students pouring in like nothing in the world had shifted.
But things had shifted.
He watched them arrive in clusters. Laughter. Phones out. Music leaking from earbuds. Normal life moving forward without pause.
His jaw tightened slightly.
He hadn't slept much. Not since the call. Not since Isabella's voice—steady, controlled, pretending everything was fine—had mentioned the name Lincoln hadn't heard spoken in years without consequence.
Theo wasn't supposed to be in a cell.
And Isabella wasn't supposed to be involved.
Lincoln's gaze drifted to the rearview mirror. Same face. Same eyes. Older now. Sharper. The kind of face people trusted before they realized they shouldn't.
He opened the car door and stepped out.
The air was cool, biting just enough to wake him fully. He adjusted his jacket, locked the car, and crossed the street toward the front gate.
That's when he saw them.
Four girls standing just off to the side near the fence, clearly waiting for the bell. Their laughter came easy, practiced. Expensive bags. Perfect hair. The kind of girls who always knew what was happening before everyone else did.
Isabella's old clique.
Lincoln didn't recognize them immediately—not consciously—but something in his chest shifted when he noticed the way they stood together. Tight. Exclusive. Like a closed circle.
He walked toward them anyway.
As he got closer, the conversation faltered.
One of the girls noticed him first.
Then another.
By the time he was a few steps away, all four had gone quiet.
Lincoln smiled.
"Morning, girls."
It wasn't flirty. It wasn't forced. Just smooth. Easy. Like he belonged there.
The effect was immediate.
One of them straightened her posture. Another tucked her hair behind her ear. A third glanced at her friend like are you seeing this?
"Uh—morning," one of them said, her voice slightly higher than before.
Lincoln leaned casually against the fence beside them, not invading space, not demanding attention. Just present.
"Crazy fog today," he said. "Almost makes you forget it's Friday."
A beat.
Then one laughed. "Yeah. Thank God it is."
Lincoln nodded. "You guys look like you've had a long week."
That did it.
They started talking.
At first it was nothing. Complaints about teachers. Tests. Someone almost getting caught cheating. Lincoln listened more than he spoke, asking small questions, laughing at the right moments.
He learned quickly.
Who dated who. Who hated who. Who talked too much. Who wanted to be seen as important.
He let them lead.
And slowly—almost imperceptibly—he steered.
"So," Lincoln said after a while, glancing toward the school doors, "you all go here together?"
"Yeah," one of them said. "Since like… forever."
"Must know everything about this place then," Lincoln replied lightly.
They smiled at that. Preened, almost.
"Pretty much."
Lincoln hummed. "That explains it."
"Explains what?" another asked.
"Why you all seem… ahead of the curve," he said. "Like you know things before they happen."
There was a pause.
Then pride crept in.
"We do," the first girl said. "People talk."
Lincoln met her eyes. "I figured."
He let the silence stretch just long enough.
Then—
"Actually," he said, casual, "I was hoping you might help me with something."
Instant attention.
"Sure," one said quickly. "What is it?"
Lincoln exhaled softly, like it wasn't a big deal. "I'm looking for someone. Name's Theo."
The atmosphere shifted.
It wasn't dramatic. Just… colder.
One of the girls blinked. Another exchanged a look with her friend.
Lincoln noticed everything.
"Theo?" one asked slowly.
"Yeah," Lincoln said. "Used to go here."
A pause.
Then—
"He's not… here anymore," one of them said.
Lincoln nodded. "I know."
That made them uneasy.
He didn't push. Didn't raise his voice.
Just waited.
Finally, one of them spoke, quieter. "He's… locked up."
Lincoln tilted his head slightly. "Locked up where?"
They hesitated.
"Why do you want to know?" a girl asked, suspicion flickering through her blush.
Lincoln smiled again—gentler this time. Less charming. More honest.
"He's a friend."
That did it.
The word hung between them like gravity.
One of the girls swallowed. "Juvenile detention. East side."
Another added, "Transferred recently. High security."
Lincoln nodded slowly, committing it to memory.
"Thanks," he said simply.
They looked relieved. Like they'd passed some invisible test.
He pushed off the fence and stepped back. "You all have a great day at school."
A few of them smiled. One waved without realizing she was doing it.
Lincoln turned away.
As he walked back across the street, the fog had thinned. The sun was climbing, burning through the last of it like it never stood a chance.
He reached his car.
Not just a car.
A Demon Charger.
Black paint polished to a mirror shine. Low growl waiting under the hood. A machine that didn't pretend to be subtle.
Lincoln opened the door and slid in.
The engine roared to life.
Heads turned.
Some students stopped walking. Others pulled out phones.
Lincoln didn't look at them.
He pulled away from the curb, merging into traffic smoothly, already planning his next move.
Theo was locked up.
Isabella was silent.
And someone had decided to stir a past that was better left buried.
Lincoln's grip tightened on the steering wheel.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath.
"Let's see who wanted my attention that bad."