Jackson

For once, Ridgeville was quiet.

No whispers.

No weird looks.

No phones getting shoved into people’s faces.

Just… normal.

Which, honestly, felt suspicious.

The final bell had rung almost twenty minutes ago, and Noah and I were walking across the parking lot toward the practice field like we had done a thousand times before. The air had that late-fall bite to it, cold enough that your breath showed when you talked.

Leaves scraped across the pavement in little bursts of ...