Twelve Years Later
Ari's POV
I only had one day left.
One day until I turned nineteen. One day until they opened the gates and told me I was free. One day until I was pushed back into a world that had already made it very clear that it didn't want me. I sat on the cold bench in the yard, staring ahead at nothing in particular, my hands resting loosely between my knees as if I had all the time in the world, but I didn't. Time felt like it was moving too fast, dragging me forward whether I wanted it to or not, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself wishing for something impossible.
I wished I could slow it down.
I wished I could stop it completely and just stay here.
That thought alone should have been enough to make me feel ridiculous. No normal person would want to stay in a place like this, and no normal person would look at a juvenile prison and think of it as home, but I wasn't normal, and this place… this place had been the closest thing I had to safety in years. There were rules here, there was structure, and there were limits to how much damage people could do to each other. Outside those walls, there were no such guarantees.
And worst of all, there were too many voices.
I let out a slow breath, dragging my hand through my hair as I leaned back slightly, closing my eyes for a moment. Even now, even in the yard where things were usually quieter, I could hear them. Thoughts brushing against my mind like whispers I couldn't block out completely. Some were faint, easy to ignore. Others were louder and harder to push away. I had learned how to deal with it over the years, how to tune things out when I needed to, but it never really stopped. It never truly went away.
That was why I didn't want to leave. Here, I knew what to expect. Out there, I didn't.
A few days ago, Owen had come to talk to me like he sometimes did. He wasn't like the other guards. He didn't look at me like I was just another problem waiting to happen. He actually talked to me, like I was a person. That didn't mean much to most people, but to me, it was something.
"You're getting out soon," he had said, leaning against the wall outside my cell, his arms crossed as he watched me. "You thought about what you're going to do?"
I hadn't answered him right away because I didn't have an answer to give.
He sighed after a while. "Look, kid… don't try anything stupid again."
I glanced up at him then, raising a brow slightly. "Like what?"
"You know exactly what I mean," he replied, his voice firm but not harsh. "Whatever got you in here, don't go looking for trouble again just to come back. This place isn't what you think it is."
I almost laughed at that, but I didn't.
"And the adult prisons?" he continued, shaking his head slightly. "You don't want to end up there. It's not the same as this, not even close."
I believed him, I really did. I could hear it in his thoughts too, the way he genuinely meant what he was saying, but that didn't change how I felt.
"I'll keep that in mind," I had said quietly, even though I knew I probably wouldn't.
Because the truth was, I had already started thinking about it. About what kind of mistake I could make that would land me back behind these walls. It sounded insane, even to me, but the idea of walking out of here with nothing waiting for me on the other side felt worse.
The last time I saw my father was four years ago.
I still remembered that day clearly, though I wished I didn't. I was fifteen, standing in a courtroom that felt too big, and listening to people talk about me like I wasn't even there. Assault and theft. Words that sounded heavy and serious, but at the time, they hadn't felt like much, not compared to everything else I had already lived through.
My father had been there, but only in the physical sense. He didn't look at me and didn't speak to me. When the whole thing was over, when they told me I would be sent here until I turned nineteen, he finally said something.
"Forget you ever had a father."
That was it.
I found it ironic, even then. The last time I truly had a father was the day before I turned seven. After that, he had just been… there. A shadow moving through the same house, pretending I didn't exist unless he wanted to remind me how much he hated me.
So when he told me to forget him, it didn't hurt as much as it probably should have.
I had already done that years ago.
After my mother left, I learned quickly that no one was going to take care of me. I had to figure things out on my own, and when the chance came to get into trouble, I took it without thinking twice. It wasn't like I had anything to lose. If anything, getting caught had been the best thing that happened to me because it brought me here.
I opened my eyes again, staring at the empty space in front of me as I let out a breath. Tomorrow, I would have to leave. I would have to find somewhere to go, something to do. A job, maybe, and a place to stay. Things normal people figured out with help, with support. I had none of that.
I didn't even know where to start.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, I felt a light tap against my shoulder. I turned slightly, and when I did, I saw him.
Hunter.
He stood there with a small, almost tired smile on his face, like he already knew what I was thinking about. He always had that look lately, like something was weighing on him even when he tried to hide it.
"Hey," he said as he moved around to sit beside me. "You've been quiet today."
I gave a small shrug, looking away from him. "I'm always quiet."
He let out a soft breath, leaning back slightly as he stretched his legs out in front of him. "Yeah, but this is different."
I didn't respond to that right away. I didn't need to hear his thoughts to know what he meant. Tomorrow was hanging over both of us, even if only one of us was leaving.
"You're getting out," he added after a moment.
"Yeah," I said simply.
There was a short pause before he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "You don't seem happy about it."
I let out a laugh, though there was nothing funny about it. "Should I be?"
He glanced at me. "Most people would be."
"I'm not most people."
He didn't argue with that. He just nodded slightly, like he understood more than he let on. That was one of the things I liked about him. He didn't push too much and didn't ask questions I didn't want to answer.
Hunter had ended up here for reasons he didn't talk about much either. He was only seventeen, which meant he still had time left. Two more years before he had to face what I was about to walk into.
Lucky him.
"You'll figure it out," he said after a while. "Once you're out there, I mean."
I shook my head slowly. "You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do," he replied, a little more firmly. "You're not like the others here. You think things through."
If only he knew how true that was. I turned my head slightly, studying him for a moment. Out of everyone in this place, he was the only one I had let get close. I didn't know why at first. Maybe it was because his thoughts were quieter than most, or maybe I was just tired of being alone.
He had no idea what I could do, no idea that I could hear the things he never said out loud, and somehow, that made it easier to be around him.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, nudging my arm lightly.
I hesitated, then I let out a slow breath, looking ahead again. "Do you want to know my secret?" I asked.
He blinked, caught off guard by that. "Your secret?"
I nodded slightly.
There was a short silence before he spoke again, curiosity clear in his voice. "Yeah… I do."
I swallowed, my fingers tightening slightly against my hands. This was a bad idea, I knew that. I had spent years making sure no one ever found out. Years keeping it buried, hidden, and locked away, but I was leaving tomorrow, so what was the worst that could happen?
"I can hear people's thoughts," I said quietly.
The words felt strange coming out of my mouth, like they didn't belong in the open air.
Hunter didn't respond right away, but I could feel it then, the shift in him, the confusion, and the disbelief starting to form.
"I'm serious," I added before he could brush it off. "I've been able to do it since I was a kid."
He let out a small, uncertain laugh. "You mean like… you can tell what people are thinking?"
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I mean, I actually hear them."