Can I have them both?

"I'll be there," I hear myself say.

My father smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Good. We'll discuss the details later."

As he turns to leave, I catch sight of Krystal watching us from her window. Her eyes meet mine, questioning. I want to go to her, to explain everything. But I can't. Not yet.

I watch my father's retreating back, a familiar weight settling on my shoulders. I've spent years running from this life, from these expectations. And now, in one conversation, I'm pulled right back in.

But this time, it's different. This time, I have something—someone—worth fighting for. I just hope it's not too late.

I turn back towards Krystal's cabin, my heart racing. I need to tell her everything. But as I take a step forward, my father's voice stops me.

"Oh, and Shane?" He doesn't turn around. "Bring your...friend. It's time she saw what you're really capable of."

My blood runs cold. I watch him walk away, my mind reeling. He knows. Somehow, he knows about Krystal. And now, he's made her a part of this game.

I stand, torn between two worlds, as the sun sets over Silver Creek Ranch. The life I've built here, the peace I've found, is hanging by a thread. And I'm the one holding the scissors.

As I walk towards Krystal's cabin, my mind races with possibilities. How do I explain this to her? How do I protect her from the world I've tried so hard to leave behind?

I reach her porch, my hand poised to knock. But I hesitate. Through the window, I can see her and Ashanti laughing over something. They look so happy, so carefree. Can I really disrupt that?

Before I can decide, the door swings open. Krystal stands there, her eyes searching mine. "Shane? What's going on?"

I take a deep breath. "We need to talk."

She nods, stepping aside to let me in. Ashanti looks up from her homework, her face lighting up. "Mr. Shane!"

I force a smile. "Hey, kiddo. How's the math coming?"

She wrinkles her nose. "It's hard. But I'm figuring it out."

"That's my girl," I say, kissing her forehead. The gesture feels natural and comfortable. When did that happen?

I clear my throat. "How'd camping go?"

"It was the best. Mr. Kelvin took us hiking and fishing." She continues, and I nod, letting my gaze wander back to Krystal.

She watches us, her expression unreadable. "Ashanti, why don't you finish up in your room? Shane and I need to talk."

Ashanti gathers her books, giving me a quick hug before disappearing down the hall. The warmth of her embrace lingers, a stark contrast to the cold dread settling in my stomach.

Krystal turns to me, arms crossed. "All right, Kennedy. Spill."

Kennedy. Right back where we started.

I take a seat on the couch, trying to gather my thoughts. How do I even begin to explain?

"That man you saw," I start, "that's my father."

Krystal's eyebrows shoot up. "Your father? I thought you said your family was in New York."

"They are. Were." I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. "It's complicated."

"Then uncomplicate it," she says, her voice sharp. "Who are you, Shane?"

I meet Krystal's intense stare, admiring her directness. She's not about the BS, and that's why I respect her. Strength radiates from her, a quality she'll need in my world, where New York's shark-infested waters crave blood.