The hallway stretched endlessly before him, fluorescent lights flickering overhead like dying fireflies. C-Wing. He'd know it anywhere-the dented lockers with their chipped blue paint, the scuff marks on linoleum floors that always smelled like industrial cleaner mixed with that sickly-sweet cafeteria pizza smell.
No. Not here. Not again.
Shadows peeled away from the lockers, taking shape. Bodies. Faces he recognized but couldn't name, twisted with cruel amusement.
"Look who it is," one of them sneered.
They circled him like wolves. Caden's heart hammered against his ribs. He pressed his back against the cold metal lockers.
"I didn't-I didn't do anything-"
Books scattered across the floor. Pages fluttered like wounded birds as someone kicked them.
"Freak."
"Liar."
"You think anyone believes you?"
Then the crowd parted.
A figure walked through, taller than the others. Caden's chest seized with hope.
"Dexter!" His voice broke. "Dexter, please-help me!"
The figure stopped. Where a face should have been, there was only a blur, like someone had smudged a photograph. But Caden knew.
"Please," Caden whispered, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I need you-"
The faceless figure tilted its head.
And then it laughed.
"You really thought-" Dexter's voice, but twisted, venomous. "You really thought I'd choose *you*?"
The crowd closed in. Hands reaching-too many hands-grabbing at his clothes, his hair, his skin. He was falling, falling backward into darkness-
"NO!"
Caden's scream tore through the darkness. His eyes flew open, but the terror followed him. He couldn't breathe. His chest heaved, lungs burning as he gasped for air that wouldn't come.
The sheets were soaked through with sweat. His heart slammed against his ribs. His hands shook violently as he reached for the nightstand, knocking over a water glass. His fingers finally found the pill bottle.
One pill tumbled into his palm. The orange prescription bottle rattled-too light, running low again. He should take one. Just one.
But his hand was already tipping the bottle again. Two pills. Three.
Just this once. Just to make it stop.
His hand moved toward his mouth.
Then stopped.
He stared at the pills, his vision blurring with tears. Three pills. That's what he'd taken that night two months ago, when Mom had found him barely conscious on the bathroom floor.
"Mijo, please, stay with us, please-"
A sob caught in his throat. With a jerky movement, he dumped two pills back into the bottle and dry-swallowed the single tablet.
He stumbled toward the bathroom, his legs unsteady. The moonlight streaming through his window cast everything in silver and shadow. Boxes still lined the walls, half-unpacked. A fresh start. That's what Mom and Dad kept saying.
But the past had followed him here, hadn't it?
Caden flipped on the bathroom light and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked like hell-face pale, dark circles under his eyes, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His gray eyes looked haunted.
Broken. You look broken.
"Shut up," he whispered to his reflection.
But the voice in his head didn't shut up. It never did.
They were right about you. Dexter was right to leave. You're too much. Too damaged. Too-
"SHUT UP!"
His fist connected with the shelf beside the mirror. The cheap plastic gave way with a crack, and suddenly everything was falling-toothbrush, toothpaste, the little succulent Mom had bought him, all of it crashing into the sink and onto the tile floor.
The succulent's pot shattered. Dirt scattered across the white tiles.
Caden stared at the mess, his chest heaving. Then the adrenaline drained away all at once. His legs gave out, and he slid down the wall, pulling his knees to his chest.
The tears came then, hot and angry and desperate. He pressed his face against his knees, trying to muffle the sobs that tore through him.
Moonlight caught his attention. It streamed through the small bathroom window, a silver beam that fell across his outstretched hand. Beyond the window, he could see the soft lights of Twilight Hills.
The town really did glow at twilight. Maybe there was something about light in darkness. Maybe that's what Mom and Dad were hoping for.
Or maybe you'll just poison this place too.
"Please," he whispered to no one. "Please, I just want it to stop. I just want to feel okay again."
The moonlight didn't answer. But it stayed, constant and cool, touching his face like a gentle hand.
The sound of his door opening made Caden's eyes fly open.
"Caden? Mijo?"
"In here," Caden managed, his voice hoarse.
Papá Miguel appeared in the doorway first, his dark hair sticking up on one side from sleep, wearing his old Guadalajara fútbol shirt. His brown eyes went wide, taking in the scene.
"Ay, mijo." Dad's voice cracked, and he was across the bathroom in two strides, dropping to his knees beside Caden. "Another nightmare?"
Caden nodded.
Mom appeared behind Dad, her red hair loose around her shoulders. Mamá Fiona took in the scene with those gray eyes that matched Caden's, then immediately started cleaning up the broken pot, her hands steady and sure.
"The pills?" Dad asked softly. "Did you-"
"Just one," Caden whispered. "I wanted to take more. But I didn't."
Dad's eyes closed briefly. "Okay. Okay, that's good, mijo. That's really good. I'm proud of you."
"Stop it." Mom's voice was quiet but firm. She sat on Caden's other side, her cool hand finding his. "I can see you spiraling. Stop."
"I broke your plant," Caden said, his voice small.
"Plants can be replaced." Mom's thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand. "You can't."
Dad shifted so he was sitting against the wall beside Caden. "You know what Abuela used to tell me? When I was young and scared? She said that the night is darkest just before dawn. La noche es más oscura justo antes del amanecer."
He paused, his hand moving to rest on top of Caden's head.
"The darkness feels endless when you're in it, mijo. But dawn always comes. Always."
"What if it doesn't?" Caden whispered. "What if this is all I am now?"
"Then we sit in the dark with you until the light comes." Mom's voice was fierce. "That's what family does. We don't leave. We don't give up."
Dad made a sound of agreement, and suddenly they were both wrapping around him, holding him together. Caden let himself sink into it, into the warmth and safety of his parents' embrace.
"We love you," Dad murmured. "Te amamos tanto, mijo. So much."
"More than you'll ever know," Mom added.
They stayed like that until Caden's breathing evened out, until the shaking stopped. Then they got him back to bed with fresh sheets, and without discussion, both climbed in on either side of him.
Mom's fingers carded through his hair. Dad's hand rested on his shoulder, a steady weight.
"We're here," Dad whispered as Caden's eyes closed. "We're right here, mijo. You're safe."
And for the first time that night, Caden believed it.
Caden woke to chaos.
"CADEN! CADEN, WAKE UP!"
Two small bodies launched themselves onto the bed. Mateo and Clara, his seven-year-old twin siblings, had arrived.
"Get off," Caden mumbled.
"But it's morning!" Clara announced, bouncing on his back. "And Mamá made pancakes!"
"You can't sleep forever," Mateo said. "That's called being dead."
"Mateo!" Clara gasped. "You can't say that!"
Despite his exhaustion, Caden felt something warm flicker in his chest. He turned his head to see them-Mateo with his dark hair sticking up everywhere, Clara with her red curls in a tangled halo. Both grinning with gap-toothed smiles.
"You two are menaces," Caden said, but there was no heat in it.
"Mamá says we're 'spirited,'" Clara said proudly.
Caden finally sat up, dislodging them both. They tumbled onto the bed with dramatic groans, and for a moment, they were just a tangle of limbs and laughter.
"Okay, okay, you win," Caden said. "I'm awake."
"Yay!" Clara threw her arms around his neck. Mateo joined in from the other side, and suddenly Caden was being crushed in a twin hug that smelled like syrup and kid shampoo.
He hugged them back, closing his eyes. This. This was why he had to keep trying. Because Mateo and Clara needed their big brother.
When they pulled back, Clara's smile had faded a little. She studied his face.
"You look sad," she said quietly.
Caden's throat tightened. "I'm okay, Clara-bear."
"You always say that." Mateo had gone still too. "But sometimes you're not okay. We know."
"Sometimes I'm sad," he admitted softly. "But having you two around helps. A lot."
Clara's face brightened. "Really?"
"Really."
"Then we'll stay with you forever!" Mateo declared.
They grinned at each other and dragged Caden out of bed, pulling him toward the door.
"Come on! Pancakes are getting cold!"
"And we have something to show you!"
In the kitchen, Mom was at the stove, flipping pancakes. Dad sat at the table with his laptop, but he looked up when they entered and smiled.
"Ah, the dead rises," Dad said. "We were starting to think we'd need to send in a search party."
"The twins are the search party," Caden said, sliding into a chair. "A very loud, very effective search party."
They ate together, the twins chattering about everything and nothing. It was normal and chaotic and exactly what Caden needed.
Then Dad cleared his throat, exchanging a look with Mom.
"So," Dad said. "We've been thinking that this house feels a little empty. A little quiet."
"Quiet?" Caden looked pointedly at the twins, who were currently arguing about whether ghosts could eat pancakes.
"Okay, maybe not quiet," Mom amended. "But we thought... maybe we could use a little more life around here."
The twins had gone suspiciously silent, practically vibrating with excitement.
Dad pulled out his phone and turned it toward Caden. On the screen was a website for a local animal shelter. And on that website was the most adorable puppy Caden had ever seen.
It was some kind of mixed breed, all floppy ears and big brown eyes, with soft golden fur.
"A dog?" Caden's voice came out smaller than he intended.
"A dog!" Clara squealed. "We're getting a puppy! And you get to help name him!"
"We were thinking," Mom said gently, "that having a companion might help. Dogs are good for anxiety, for having a routine, for... for not feeling so alone."
Caden stared at the photo. The puppy looked so happy, so full of uncomplicated love. Something in his chest cracked open, just a little.
"Max," Caden interrupted.
Everyone looked at him.
"His name should be Max," Caden said. "I don't know why. But... Max."
"Max the dog. I like it!" Clara tested it out.
"Max it is then," Mom said.
They spent the next hour looking at more photos, planning their visit to the shelter tomorrow. And Caden found himself getting caught up in it too, in the simple joy of imagining a future that included a goofy puppy and his chaotic siblings.
For a little while, the darkness receded.
Later that afternoon, Caden's phone rang. The screen showed a FaceTime call from "Abuela 💕."
"It's Abuela!" Caden called out, and immediately the twins came running.
Abuela's face filled the screen, her warm brown eyes crinkling with joy. Behind her, Abuelo read a newspaper.
"Mijo! ¡Mi corazón! How is the new house?"
"It's good, Abuela," Caden said, and the twins waved frantically.
"Abuela! We're getting a puppy!" Clara announced.
"A puppy! ¿De verdad?" Abuela's face lit up. "What's his name?"
The twins launched into an excited explanation while Caden smiled and let them. Then Abuela's eyes found Caden's, and her expression softened.
"And you, mijo? How are you?"
Caden stepped away slightly, lowering his voice. "I'm trying to be okay."
"That's all anyone can ask, mi amor. Trying is enough." Abuela leaned closer to the screen. "You are stronger than you know, Caden. You come from a long line of survivors, mijo. It's in your blood."
"I don't feel strong."
"The strongest people never do." Abuelo had appeared behind Abuela. "Strength isn't about feeling powerful, mijo. It's about getting up when you want to stay down. And you? You keep getting up. That's strength."
Caden's eyes burned. "I miss you guys."
"We miss you too," Abuela said. "But this new start-it's good for you. Sometimes we need to leave the old places behind to find ourselves again."
They talked for a while longer, Abuela sharing gossip, Abuelo telling terrible jokes. By the time they hung up, Caden felt steadier. Anchored.
As evening approached, Caden found himself restless. He needed air, needed to see this town that was supposed to be his fresh start.
"I'm going for a walk," he called to his parents.
Mom looked up. "Want company?"
"I'm okay. Just need to clear my head."
She studied him, then nodded. "Phone charged?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Stay in the neighborhood?"
"Yes, Mom. I promise."
Outside, the air was cool and crisp. The sun was starting to set, and true to its name, Twilight Hills was beginning to glow.
The streetlights came on one by one, casting warm golden light. It made the whole neighborhood look softer, like something out of a painting. Houses with neat lawns, trees lining the streets, the distant sound of kids playing.
Caden walked with no particular destination, just letting his feet carry him. He passed families having dinner, a couple walking their dog, an old man watering his garden. Normal. Everything was so beautifully, painfully normal.
He found himself at a small park-a playground, some benches, a fountain in the center that bubbled quietly. He sat on a bench near the fountain, watching the water catch the fading sunlight. He closed his eyes, trying to quiet the noise in his head.
"You look like you're either meditating or having an existential crisis."
Caden's eyes flew open. A girl stood a few feet away, hands in the pockets of a vintage denim jacket. She was Black, with natural hair pulled back in a puff, warm brown skin that glowed in the twilight, and striking dark eyes-intelligent and kind.
She was smiling. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just saw you sitting here looking very contemplative. And I'm nosy. It's a character flaw."
Caden blinked. "I... what?"
"Existential crisis or meditation?" She tilted her head. "I'm taking bets with myself."
Despite everything, Caden felt his lips twitch. "Can it be both?"
"Ooh, a multitasker. I like it." She gestured to the bench. "Mind if I sit? Or are you doing the whole brooding loner thing?"
There was something about her energy-warm and open-that made Caden nod.
"Conversation is... okay."
"Excellent choice." She sat down, leaving respectful distance. "I'm Jane, by the way. Been here my whole life, which is either charming or tragic depending on your perspective."
"Caden. I just moved here. Like, yesterday."
"Ah, fresh meat." Jane's grin was infectious. "Welcome to Twilight Hills, where nothing exciting ever happens and everyone knows everyone's business."
"Which one are you? Love it or hate it?"
"Love it, mostly. Hate it sometimes." She shrugged. "It's home, you know?"
Caden didn't know what to say to that. Home had become complicated.
Jane seemed to sense his hesitation. "You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're running from something." She paused. "I'm not trying to pry. I just recognize it. That's all."
Caden's throat tightened. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to someone who's been there." Jane was quiet for a moment. "You don't have to talk about it. I just wanted you to know that you're not alone."
"Thank you," Caden said quietly. "That's actually really nice."
They sat in comfortable silence, the fountain bubbling between them.
"Your eyes are red," Jane said suddenly, then winced. "Sorry. That was blunt. Are you okay? Like, right now?"
Caden could have lied. But something about Jane made him want to be honest.
"Bad night. Nightmares. But I'm managing."
"Nightmares suck." Jane's voice was matter-of-fact, not pitying. "I used to get them a lot. After my mom died. You can't escape them, you know? Sleep becomes the enemy."
"Your mom died?" The words came out before Caden could stop them. "I'm sorry-"
"It's okay. It was a few years ago. Cancer." Jane's smile was sad but genuine. "Talking about it helps sometimes. Makes her feel less gone."
"It does."
They looked at each other, and something passed between them-recognition. Understanding.
"So," Jane said, deliberately lighter. "First day in Twilight Hills. What do you think?"
Caden surprised himself by laughing. Small and rusty, but real. "It's different. Quiet. My family's getting a puppy tomorrow."
"A puppy! What kind?"
"Mixed breed. We're naming him Max."
"Max the dog. I love it. Very dignified." Jane's grin was back. "You'll have to introduce me. I'm excellent with dogs."
"You're very confident about that."
"I'm confident about most things. It's either a strength or a flaw." She stood up, brushing off her jeans. "I should get home. Dinner's probably ready, and my stepmom gets cranky when I'm late."
Caden stood too, suddenly not wanting her to leave.
"It was nice meeting you," Caden said, and meant it.
"You too, Caden." Jane pulled out her phone. "Here, give me your number. That way, if you ever need a tour guide or someone to talk to, you can text me. No pressure."
They exchanged numbers, and Jane sent him a quick text-a waving emoji and "welcome to the neighborhood!"
"I'll see you around," Jane said, starting to walk backward. "And hey, Caden?"
"Yeah?"
"The nightmares get better. Not gone, maybe, but better. Just keep trying, okay?"
Before Caden could respond, she turned and jogged off, her jacket flapping behind her.
Caden looked down at his phone, at Jane's contact info, at the simple kindness of a stranger offering friendship with no strings attached.
Her laugh lingered in his ears as he started walking home, and for the first time in months, the tightness in his chest loosened-just a little. The darkness was still there, would probably always be there. But standing in the glowing streets of Twilight Hills, with the memory of Jane's smile and the promise of a puppy named Mark and his family waiting at home...
Maybe dawn was coming after all.
Maybe he could survive this.
Maybe-just maybe-he could even learn to live again.