I had plenty of time to think about my visit with Caroline as I cruised the empty streets of Hollow Oak. My fingers tapped against the wheel, and I couldn’t resist smiling. It shocked me how easy the conversation had been.

  A part of me had worried we’d slip back into the old routines. I would be too nervous to meet her eye, and she would be kind, but distant. From the way she cracked jokes and looked at me, however? That wouldn’t be a problem. I could still feel her touch on my arm.

  It made me optimistic about how Vanni would handle my return. Even though I knew she would have questions about why I visited the bakery first. If I were lucky, she would smell the chocote on my breath, and I could convince her I’d gone purely for the free meal. Which, in my defense, wasn’t entirely untrue.

  As I reached the closet thing Hollow Oak had to a hill, the plumes of smoke from the distant smelter rose into view. I smiled at the memories that it conjured. When we were kids, we had often pretended it came from a dragon.

  Multiple times our parents had caught us getting ready to venture out and sy the beast. We never made it. A frown crossed my face as I studied the smoke. Had it always been that light? I didn’t think so. The thick bck smog had regurly featured heavily in our stories.

  A truck horn pierced the air, carrying all the way from the nearby mines. My thoughts scattered, and I instinctively winced, readying myself for the second loud bst. None came, and I shifted in my seat, surprised.

  While growing up, there had always been a near symphony of honks. Often it was so bad, our teacher had to pause lessons to let it die down. I wasn’t sure I liked the change.

  Ahead of me, the town’s single stoplight switched to red. I rolled to a stop and gnced around. There was nobody on the sidewalk. None of the miners ate lunch under the shade of the trees. No factory workers trudged home to sleep off the morning shift. When I went past the pub, a ramshackle building, there was only one truck in the parking lot. By the fact that it was in front of the employees only sign, I knew it wasn’t a visitor.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I gripped the wheel tighter. Though it was off the path, I took a detour to see both the school and the town's minuscule public park. I kept my speed low as I gnced around.

  To my left, sat the park. Little more than a patch of grass, a swing set and a bench. I had memories of it being much bigger, and I quickly turned away to look at the school on the opposite side.

  In my mind, the pce had been huge, and in some ways it still was. It comprised a long rectangur building that was subdivided into three cssrooms. Rumours said it had once been a lodging house for the town’s miners.

  It could hold up to fifty or so kids at a time. Two teachers had prowled it, someone who looked after the high school students and another who watched over primary. When I had graduated, there had just been the one.

  I remembered the pce as being oppressive and looming. Now I couldn’t help but wonder, even with the tiny student body, how they squeezed us all in. As my attention flickered over the rundown building, I saw movement behind only a single window.

  The prickling feeling at the back of my neck returned. This wasn’t a truth I wanted to face. Not today. Thankfully, it was a short drive to my final destination, and the third most impactful building of my childhood.

  Mr. Hendsons Record Store stood out among the other pces in town thanks to the garish red shingles that covered the roof. As children, it was a pce of wonder. Mystery. We would ride our bikes out here, to listen to songs from years before we were born. While the music pyed, Mr. Hendson would tell us stories about old bands and long ago festivals.

  Thinking back now, it was obvious how sanitized a lot of those tales were. Vanni loved them the most. She would sit entranced, even when the rest of us had gotten fidgety. Our parents had barely tolerated our visits, despite his attempts to childproof his exploits.

  Things came to a head one day when Vanni and I walked up to my dad and asked if we could try weed to rex. Amused wasn’t the word to describe the reaction to that particur announcement. We were both banned from the store for a week, and Mr. Hendson’s stories became rather less descriptive from there on out.

  When I stepped out of my old beater, a nearby sports car caught my interest. The bright red paint told me it didn’t belong to the mine owner; he had always driven a yellow convertible to match his wife’s hair and wings. Vanni and I had gotten to ride in it once for winning a talent show. Well, she had won. I had helped set up the audio equipment, and she dragged me along as her plus one.

  Dust had collected around the outer wheelhouse, and its roof was low enough that I’d have to duck to fit in. The owner had attached a collection of anti-establishment stickers to the rear windscreen, a juxtaposition to the BMW hood ornament on the front.

  It wasn’t the thing that caught my attention. The rusted speakers that had dominated the porch had vanished, as had the minivan that our parents had expressly forbidden from going inside. Some of the band posters remained, but someone, and I had a good guess as to who due to the punk branding, had stapled new ones over the top of them. I chuckled, curious how many yers I’d need to dig through to reach the original wall.

  The steps creaked, but the door opened soundlessly—another change. Air conditioning bsted me, a relief from the afternoon heat. Two people, of whom I recognised only one, occupied the store. Not that there was room for many more.

  I stepped past a small folding table covered with boxes filled with CDs that ranged from Fish to a band called The Protomen. Music pyed, not the typical offerings that bounced between Meatloaf to the Animals to Dolly Parton, the st of which Hendson defended anytime someone brought it up. Now it was a punk song. I didn’t know the exact style, but the lead singer sounded on the verge of crying or maybe rage screaming.

  The lyrics focused on helping a lost love while burning down a police station. I nodded my head to the drums and examined the newcomer. He was human, like me, not a rarity, but uncommon for this part of the country. His clothes were typical skater boy streetwear, but of a make that told me they cost more than most people made in a month.

  When combined with his frosted tips, fake tan, and slouched posture, I took an almost instant dislike to him. That wasn’t fair, I knew. He might be a nice guy. Then, I heard his side of the conversation, and the guilt vanished.

  “Come on,” he said in a slow surfer-bro drawl. “I’m just saying. Let me take you out to a show. I can get us in easy. You can be my girl.”

  I recognised the young woman who stood behind the counter, her shoulder pressed against the wall. Her expression was a perfect depiction of open disdain. She still wore her hair the same, the short spiky bck locks that fit so well with the leather jacket, obscure band shirt, and bck ripped jeans. As he continued attempting to charm her, she rolled familiar golden eyes, and rubbed a hand along her sleeve.

  Her two white and fluffy pointed ears pinned themselves to the top of her head, and I stopped skulking by the merchandise. That was a sign that things were about to escate. Possibly quickly.

  When her nearly shouted reply came, it was in a caustic tone, though it held her mother’s Southern charm. As she spoke, cws peeked out of her slowly raising hand. “And I told you, I’d rather listen to the Spice Girls on repeat for six hours. Fuck off, Groupie.”

  “Hey, there’s no need to get hostile, I—”

  “Can’t take a hint?” I ughed as he almost fell over when he spun and found me behind him. “Seriously, dude, she’s not interested.”

  “What if I don’t? You’re going to get into it with me over your girl?” He sneered, but avoided meeting my eyes even as he looked up towards me. This was him trying to save face; he didn’t actually want to fight me. Which was good, I didn’t want to fight him either.

  “Not my girl, but I’m mostly here to give you a warning.” I nodded toward the door. “Some of the local kids were near your ride. You might want to check on it? Bored small-town children get destructive.”

  He thankfully took the hint, even as his sneer deepened. “Whatever, neither of you are worth my time, anyway.”

  Vanni and I watched him go as I shifted to lean against the counter. With my focus on the door, I didn’t see the punch. I felt it nd though, and I pretended to rub at the wound as I mock-gred at her. Her tail, thinner than her mother’s although still white and fluffy, wagged like mad.

  “You came back without telling me, you dork!”

  I ughed, and she folded her arms. “Is that your way of saying you missed me? But seriously, nice to see you, Vanni. I only got in this morning.”

  “Yeah, I bet you—” She stopped, and her nose twitched before she inhaled. Her eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the calcutions running behind them. I hoped my apprehension didn’t show on my face as she said. “Liam.”

  “Yesssss?” I stretched out the word, hoping being pyful would get me off the hook.

  “If you came in this morning, why are you only seeing me now?”

  “Well.” I coughed. “There was some stuff to take care of.”

  “You smell of the bakery.”

  “Yes.”

  Her voice dropped dangerously low, though thankfully still loud enough for me to hear it. From her amused expression, and how her tail stilled, I suspected it was deliberate. A scare tactic. “You smell of Mom.”

  “It would be weird if she weren’t there since she owns the pce. Look, it was on the way and I was hungry,” I defended myself, taking a step away from the enraged-looking beastkin. “Honest.”

  “Did you seriously drive home, moon over Mom and stuff your face before coming to see me!” Her voice rose, and she smmed her hands onto the counter. Her eyes narrowed. “Four years, Liam. And you come waltzing in to deal with a jerk I was perfectly capable of handling?”

  “You didn’t want to hurt him, Vanni.” I paused, knowing that might not be strictly true.

  She stared at me, arms crossed. Silence stretched out, and I refused to break eye contact. I knew this game. It was as old as the one I pyed with her mother earlier. Her hand shot out, and I tried to dodge. My nose stung where she flicked it.

  “You deserved that.” In a single graceful movement, she hopped over the counter. “He deserved more, though. Now come here. You owe me a hug, and then we’ll talk about what else you owe for being a butt and not telling me you were coming back.”

  “Maybe you don’t deserve a hug for attacking me twice since I got here?”

  Her growl was all the warning I received, before she tackled me. If not for my training, I knew I would have hit the floor. Her arms wrapped me up, vice-like, and I returned the squeezed just as hard. She wasn’t as full as her mother, nor as soft. Vanni had clearly worked out while I was away. It had the same sense of rightness, though, that feeling of reuniting with old friends.

  “Now that I have you trapped,” she said, her chin resting on my shoulder. “We’re going to talk about where you’re taking me to apologise.”

  “Fiiiiine. What do you want? More hugs? Cupcakes? My firstborn?” My fingers tapped against her back.

  Her nose wrinkled, and it was as adorable as ever. “Ew, I don’t want kids, and I certainly don’t want yours. The only baby I want is a food baby. You owe me dinner. Somewhere expensive and close.”

  “I’m a broke college grad. You don’t get both.”

  “Fine.” She huffed. “Close then.”

  “Literally the only pce I remember aside from the pub is George’s Diner. Is that even still open?” I didn’t bother to hide my disbelief at that idea; the man had been ancient when I was a child. It seemed impossible he ran it now.

  “Nope, it got bought out by some new guy. Ronaldo. You’ll love him. I’m off shift at five. I expect you to pick me up at my house like a proper gentleman at six.” Her st words held a snooty tone that made me ugh.

  “Alright. I need to get settled anyway. You’re still living with Caroline?”

  Vanni nodded. “Of course. Who can pay rent nowadays?”

  “True.”

  She let me go, and we chatted for a while, but she soon shooed me out of the building. I waved at her from the car and watched her vanish inside. For a moment I sat there, trying to make the idea of heading back to my empty childhood home less overwhelming.

  It didn’t work, and so with a sigh, I headed there, stomach heavy and thoughts clouded.