Two months had passed. Two whole months of silence, confusion, and aching truths that sat like stones in Avery's chest.
The air had shifted since that day James cried in her arms and confessed his secret—that he was from the future, just like her. Except, unlike her, he came from a different time. Eight years forward instead of twenty-nine back. And for one reason only: to save May, the girl he loved.
Avery still remembered the way her heart stopped at that name. The way her words turned to ash on her tongue. She wanted to tell him she was his daughter—his daughter from the future—but all she could do was stand there and watch him break down over another woman. A woman who wasn't her mother. A woman he loved so much he defied time for her.
But the worst part wasn't that.
It was the next day.
She found him near the steps of the old market, and with a hopeful heart, called out his name.
"James!"
He turned.
Looked at her.
And blinked. Confused. Polite.
"Do I know you?"
Avery had smiled. A small, stiff smile. She had wanted to scream. To shake him. To remind him. But all she did was say, "Guess not."
She never went back after that.
Now, she wandered through the city like a ghost. Streets of 1996 Greyhaven bustled around her, loud and careless. Cars honked, vendors shouted, and teenagers moved in loud packs of laughter and fistfights. She passed them all like she didn't belong—and maybe she didn't.
She tugged her oversized hoodie tighter against her arms, stepping off the cracked curb and into the shade of a tree-lined alley. A gentle breeze tousled her hair as she stopped beside a bookstore and stared at her reflection in the window—same girl, same dark eyes, same haunted heart.
"So… he forgot," she murmured to herself. "Cool. That's fine. I mean, of course the one person who's also from the future and could actually believe me just—wipes the memory clean like a damn whiteboard."
She sighed and turned, about to head back toward the tiny flat above the café—her only real home now—when the sound of a revving engine echoed down the lane.
A sleek black bike pulled up beside her.
She didn't look. Not at first.
But then the rider flipped up the visor of his helmet and grinned at her.
"Hey. Aren't you the girl who tagged along with James?"
Avery's stomach twisted.
It was him.
Ethan.
The boy her father said would one day pull the trigger that ended everything.
The boy she swore she'd kill before that could happen.
And yet, here he was—smiling at her like he was someone.
Dark, tousled hair. Black eyes too sharp for his young face. There was a cockiness to him, not unexpected, but what annoyed her most was how genuinely amused he looked just by finding her here.
Her blood boiled.
"Do you always stalk people, or am I just special?"
Ethan laughed and took off his helmet. "Special. Definitely. Most people don't dodge me like I've got the plague. You've got skill."
Avery rolled her eyes and started walking. Of course, he followed.
"So," he continued casually, "how do you know James? You two seemed close back then."
"Not anymore."
"Oof." He winced playfully. "Brutal."
"Life is."
He kept pace with her easily, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "Y'know, James is… weird. Always muttering to himself about things that don't make sense. Future this, future that."
Avery froze for half a second, but kept walking.
"Not surprising," she said coolly. "He's always been a little strange."
Ethan smiled sideways at her. "But you like him."
Avery gave him a blank stare. "Do I look like I like anyone?"
"Good point."
They walked a few more steps in silence before he spoke again, this time more seriously.
"You probably think we're just a bunch of delinquents in White Thorn," he said. "And you wouldn't be wrong. But it's not all chaos and crime, you know."
"Oh?" she said. "Do tell."
"We used to be… something else. Me, Garth, Dev, Kai… most of us were kids growing up together in this mess of a city. Then came the splits. Some left. Formed their own packs. Rivalries. Turf wars. You know the drill."
"So what, you don't hate them?" she asked skeptically.
Ethan shrugged. "Not all of them. People choose what they think will keep them alive."
Avery stopped.
Across the street, she caught sight of golden hair and a familiar green jacket. James.
He was laughing with Milo, a bag slung over his shoulder as they walked into an alley toward the back of a small building.
Without a second thought, Avery ran.
"Hey—where are you going?" Ethan called, surprised.
She didn't answer.
She didn't care.
Not when James was smiling like nothing ever happened.
Not when he had looked right past her just days ago.
Ethan watched her go, one brow raised, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the bike. No one ever ran from him. Not like that.
He tilted his head.
"James, huh?" he muttered. "What the hell's so special about you, golden boy?"
He pushed his helmet back on and kicked his bike into gear, but before riding off, he looked back toward where Avery had disappeared around the corner.
She didn't even glance his way.
For the first time in his life, someone had ignored Ethan fucking Carrington like he was just background noise.
And that made her the most interesting girl in the entire goddamn city.