Page 40 of Wild Heart

"He’s not a bad kid," she said finally.

“I know.”

"But he did something that gave them a reason to label him."

Natalie waited.

“He got into a fight,” Olivia said. “At college. A serious one.”

Natalie’s brows lifted, but she didn’t interrupt.

Olivia’s voice was steady, but low. “There was a girl in one of his classes. She’d come to him more than once about a guy who wouldn’t leave her alone. Told him she was scared. Davey encouraged her to go to the administration, but she said she didn’t feel safe making it official. So, Davey kept an eye out."

She paused, and Natalie saw the tightness in her grip around the mug.

“One night, he found the guy cornering her after a party. She was crying. Davey pulled him off her. The guy threw a punch. Davey hit him back. Hard. Knocked the guy clean out and he ended up in ER.”

“Did she speak up?” Natalie asked softly.

“She tried. But it became a ‘he said, she said.’ The guy’s family had money. Lawyers. Influence. Davey didn’t. And he refused to apologize. He said he’d do it again.”

“They expelled him.”

Olivia nodded. “Just like that. My son, who acted out of instinct and protection, was labeled violent. Dangerous. The family had too many connections and deep purses, you know how it goes.”

Natalie felt the knot in her chest tighten. She could picture it—the quiet anger in Davey’s eyes, the burden he’d carried without explanation, the guilt that didn’t belong to him but lived there anyway.

“And the worst part?” Olivia added, her voice trembling justslightly. “He’s been carrying it like it defines him. Like maybe they’re right."

"He’s ashamed about being kicked out."

Olivia nodded. "And I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t make it go away. I didn’t know how."

The pain in her voice settled over them like fog. Natalie took her hand and held it.

“He protected someone,” she said. “That matters.”

Olivia’s jaw clenched, her eyes filling. “I know it does. But the town doesn’t. Not all of them. They see a quiet boy with a checkered past and fill in the blanks. They see him through the lens of what they’ve heard, not who he is.”

Natalie felt that truth settle deep in her chest.

That afternoon, Natalie found Davey in the storage barn, organizing supply bins.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorframe.

He glanced up, his expression wary.

“Your mom told me,” she said gently.

His eyes darkened. “Told you what?”

“About school. About what really happened.”

He looked away.

“Davey,” she said, stepping closer. “You don’t have to be ashamed of that. You did what you thought was right.”

“I hit someone,” he said flatly. “That’s what everyone sees. And he got off with it all.”

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