Evan had arrived back on the island in the dead of night, wearing a scowl on his face that even a bouncy dog who was happy to see him home again couldn't entirely wipe away. He'd slept fitfully, shadows in the corners of his mind creeping up and threatening to blot out everything else in his head as he dreamed
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She knocked softly on the door before peeking in.
“Evan?” she asked. “Hello! You’re back already?”
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He gave the pull-toy a tug, and Ozzy slid along the floor after it, with it clamped firmly in his teeth.
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“What happened, Evan?” she asked quietly, detouring around Ozzy to sit down next to Evan on the floor. “Did you want to talk?”
He wasn’t alright, so she didn’t ask.
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You could be better than where you came from? You weren't just what was in your blood? Logan had told him about the horrible, abusive man that had been his father. Dog had told him about how Logan was the one who had killed the man in cold blood.
Evan was starting to wonder if trusting people at all was a mistake.
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