“My mom used to host these little recital nights,” he said. “For her students. She’d light candles, make snacks. Everyone played something, even if it was bad.”
Riya looked up, surprised. Back at his house, he’d shut down the moment his past tried to enter a room, or when his dad walked in. Like a window slamming shut.
But now he was cracking it open.
“It used to feel... magical,” he said, and there wassomething distant in his voice now. “I thought we were happy. I thought she was.”
Riya’s fingers curled around the telescope, anchoring her.
“Maybe she was,” she said. “Just not in the way you thought. Or not in a way she knew how to keep.”
He didn’t answer at first. The cold made a cloud of his breath.
“You know,” he said eventually, “my dad always told me everything happens for a reason. I used to think that was bullshit. Still kind of do. But sometimes... I wonder if the reason is just to see how much someone can take.”
Normally, Riya would leave it there. Let the silence wrap around them like a blanket, safe and secure. But something in his voice pierced through her. Through the loudness of the ticking clock.
“What happened?” she asked gently.
Kian looked at her. “She left when I was thirteen. Just didn’t come home after a lesson. No warning. No note. Dad panicked. Called the police, called everyone. A week later, she walked in like nothing had happened. Said she’d made a mistake. That she never wanted any of it—marriage, kids, the whole thing. She said we felt like a life she’d never asked for. And now she’s a stepmom,” he said, a bitter laugh escaping him. “For someone else’s kid.”
Riya’s throat tightened. She couldn’t imagine what it would take to say that out loud. How long he’d carried it.
“I’m so sorry, Kian.”
Kian gave a tiny shrug. “You know the worst part?I thought mom was just out of town or something. The only reason I even found out the truth was because a kid at school ran his mouth about it, back in eighth grade.”
Riya’s stomach turned cold. “Jake Townsend.”
He nodded. “He made jokes about how even my mom didn’t want me. I let it happen for weeks. But one day, I don’t know. I snapped. Hit him.”
His jaw clenched. “So he brought backup. Him and two of his friends cornered me behind the portables. Broke a tooth.”
Riya’s nails bit her palms. “Jake’s awful. It’s no wonder you snapped.”
“Yeah.” Kian gave her a wry look. “Only problem was, Jake’s mom was on the school board. I would’ve been expelled if it wasn’t for another kid who’d seen the whole thing and backed me up. So I got suspended instead.”
Riya blinked. A witness.
Her mind flashed back to the blurred memory of a boy with bloodied knuckles, crouched on the grass. At the time, she hadn’t put it together. But now—
Could it really have been him?
But no, that would be absurd. Coincidences didn’t line up like that. No. That was too neat. Too... perfect. Still, the thought burrowed under her ribs, unshakable.
“I see him in the hallway sometimes. I don’t even think he remembers anything,” said Kian. “Tempted to remind him, though.”
She swallowed. “Well, I’m glad someone was looking out for you.”
“Me too.” Kian glanced toward the house. The warmth of it, the voices still echoing faintly through the walls. “And now... I guess I’m just glad I ended up here. With you.”
She stared at him, surprised by how his sincerity didn’t unsettle her the way it once did. Instead, it rested on her like a gentle flame against the cold.
And this time, she didn’t shrug off his words as a symptom of the curse.
“...Thanks,” she said softly.
Kian smiled.
