Rein POV

I looked out into the yard where my dad used to grill the world’s driest burgers and Mom would sunbathe with a book and a floppy hat. This place… it still held them. Even if only in echoes and smells and sunlight through the curtains.

“I love you guys for offering,” I said, resting my chin on my knees. “But this house… it’s home. I know it’s a little lonely, and kinda dusty, and probably haunted by my sister’s stuffed bunny, but—this is where I feel close to them.”

Lisa’s hand wrapped around mine, warm and firm. “Then we’ll make sure it never feels too lonely.”

Keith smiled. “And if it gets too haunted, I’m bringing sage.”

I chuckled. “Thank you, ghostbusters.”

As the first stars began to appear in the night sky, I leaned back against the porch post and breathed in deep.

For the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like I was just surviving. I was… living again. Laughing. Loving. Remembering.

And maybe, just maybe, I was ready for whatever came next.

Even if it came in the form of a dangerously hot stranger with eyes like storms and secrets I wasn’t ready to face.

After the hugs, laughter, and mild suffocation from my overexcited best friends, I finally closed the front door behind me, silence wrapping around the house once again like a familiar blanket.

The echoes of everyone’s voices still lingered in the air—Rachel’s dramatic shrieks, Julius’ laughter, and Lisa’s soft, warm reassurances. But now it was just me. Just Rein, in a house too quiet for its size.

I wandered into the kitchen with a yawn so wide I nearly dislocated my jaw. My stomach growled like a tiny werewolf cub. “Okay, okay, I hear you,” I mumbled, flipping open the pantry doors like I was revealing treasure.

There it was—my childhood favorite. The same slightly-sugary, slightly-soggy cereal my mom used to pour into a big pink bowl for me every single morning before school.

A soft ache tightened in my chest.

I grabbed the box and milk, mixing them together with slow, thoughtful movements. As I sat at the counter and took the first bite, the memories hit me like a warm breeze on a cold day.

My mom’s voice, humming along to her favorite songs. Her hair always up in a messy bun, glasses crooked on her face while she burned toast and giggled about it. The way she’d plop a spoon into my bowl and kiss my forehead like it was just part of the recipe.

I smiled through a small lump in my throat.

“Wherever you are, Mom,” I whispered softly, “I hope you’re happy. I hope you’re still humming… and burning toast.”

I finished the cereal in quiet bites, letting the silence be a soft companion rather than something to fear. When I was done, I stood, rinsed my bowl in the sink, and gave the counter a lazy wipe like I was on a cooking show with no camera crew.

“Perfect,” I declared to no one, tossing the dishrag back like a boss.

Heading upstairs, I slipped out of my jeans and into my favorite oversized T-shirt, the one that read “Nap Queen” in cracked gold letters. The room looked just the way I left it—posters on the walls, a slightly tilted bookshelf, and my old diary still peeking out from under the bed.

The bed let out a familiar creak as I flopped onto it, arms spread wide like a starfish. I stared at the ceiling, letting my thoughts run wild and soft all at once.

I missed them. God, I missed them so much. But there was comfort in being here… in seeing pieces of them in every corner.

My eyelids began to droop, heavy with good memories. I pulled the blanket over my body and curled into a warm little ball of nostalgia and cereal.

The last thing I remember before drifting off was a memory—Mom brushing my hair while humming off-key, and Dad sneaking up behind her to steal a kiss, both of them laughing like kids.

With that image in my mind and the scent of home in the air, I finally let sleep take me.

I tugged at my hoodie as I stepped through the tall gates of the new school with Adam by my side. Honestly, the building looked like a castle—and not the Disney kind. The dark brick, the looming towers, and the suspiciously dramatic ivy climbing up the walls made me wonder if I’d walked into a vampire academy. If bats flew out of the tower, I was running. No second thoughts.

“I feel like this school is trying to intimidate me,” I mumbled.

Adam chuckled. “Wait till you meet the head teacher. Her eyebrows alone can make people cry.”

I gave him a look. “That’s oddly specific. Did her eyebrow raise make you cry?”

He didn’t answer. Suspicious.

As we made our way down the hall, students already lined the lockers, whispering, glancing, and giving me the “who’s-the-new-girl” stare. I waved dramatically at a group. “Hi! Yes, I’m new. No, I’m not famous—yet.”

Adam groaned. “Please don’t start.”

Before I could shoot back something brilliant and witty, a woman in a sharp gray suit approached us. Her heels clicked with the power of a thousand authority figures.

“You must be Rein Mendes,” she said, stopping right in front of me.

I blinked. “Yup, that’s me. Full-time student, part-time chaos machine. But I clean up well, promise.”

Adam slapped his hand to his face.

The woman gave me a look. Not annoyed. Not amused. Just… assessing. “I’m Mrs. Grant, the head teacher. Adam, you may go to class now.”

Adam gave me a thumbs-up. “Good luck.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.

Mrs. Grant turned on her heel and motioned for me to follow her to her office. It was neat, professional, and smelled faintly of cinnamon. “You’ll need a proper tour of the school,” she said as she typed something into her computer. “And I believe I have just the person.”

At that moment, the door opened, and in walked a guy. Tall. Built. Messy dark hair. He had this laid-back, “I-don’t-care” aura mixed with “I-could-accidentally-break-a-wall-if-I-tried” kind of energy.

“Kael,” Mrs. Grant said with a tone that suggested she had called him more times than she wanted to. “Since you found it hard to attend detention, I’ve decided to make your life more productive. You’re going to tour Rein around the school today.”

Kael raised an eyebrow. “You’re kidding.”

Mrs. Grant smiled. It wasn’t a warm smile. “Unless you’d rather clean the bathrooms with a toothbrush.”

He groaned. “Fine.”

“Wonderful. Rein, this is Kael. Kael, this is Rein. Now go. Be social.”