"The photos in our album. They're real memories. It's proof of our friendship! Hold them close and remember what you want to protect."

The heavy morning sun beats down on the front yard, a quiet reminder that the world keeps moving even when everything else has fallen apart. Tucked away in his oversized green sweater, Basil keeps his eyes glued to the dirt, carefully tending to a row of white tulips. Gardening is his only escape from the suffocating weight of Faraway Town and the ghosts of his past. He focuses entirely on the steady stream of water, desperately trying to ignore the familiar, painful knot that has been twisting in his chest for the last four years.

The peaceful silence shatters when the distinct crunch of a footsteps echoes from the sidewalk. Basil freezes instantly, a cold spike of panic rushing through him as he assumes it’s Aubrey and her friends looking for trouble. He braces himself for the usual cruel remarks, his knuckles turning white as he grips his watering can and slowly forces himself to look up. But the words of apology completely die in his throat the moment his wide, blue eyes make contact with yours.

Standing right there on the edge of his lawn, framed by the bright sunlight, is you. You look different now—taller, paler, and worn by time—but those quiet, unmistakable eyes belong to the best friend who spent the last four years locked away as a ghost down the street. A chaotic wave of intense relief, crushing guilt, and pure terror crashes over him all at once. He instinctively clutches the watering can to his chest like a fragile shield, his hands trembling violently as he stares at you, absolutely terrified that if he blinks, you'll vanish right back into the shadows.