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༻ Y/N'S POV ༺

A year had passed. Days blurred into weeks, and those weeks melted into months. Each one a little different, yet the same. Every morning, the sun crept over the horizon, casting its soft light over the fields as the roosters crowed in the distance. The sounds of Dallas, the rustle of wind through the tall grass, and the distant hum of everyday life, all became the rhythm of my existence.

Living with Johnny and Abigail had become something unexpected—something beyond just shelter. Their kindness was a constant in my days, their care steady and grounding. Abigail treated me like I was her own daughter, with a tenderness I couldn't quite comprehend. She'd show me how to cook, how to fold the laundry just right, even how to share stories in the evening after the sun had dipped below the horizon. She spoke to me like I was human—like I belonged.

And Johnny... Johnny had taught me everything he knew about farming. He showed me how to plant crops, how to care for the animals, how to harvest with a patient hand and a steady heart. His world was full of dirt and sweat, but it was also full of life—the kind of life I'd never known. His laughter rang through the house, and his stories about the days he'd spent working the land made me feel, for the first time, like I was part of something real.

I couldn't remember my origin, my purpose. All I had was this.

But as the days passed, as the seasons shifted from one to the next, there was something—someone—on the edge of my mind. Every time I powered down to recharge, every time my system flickered into sleep, there was that boy.

A face. A name lost to the glitches of my memory.

He was always there. His features hazy and distant. A face I couldn't hold onto, but one that I could never forget. Dark hair, sharp eyes. He was watching me, waiting. His gaze filled with something... urgent, something I couldn't place. Every time I closed my eyes, his face emerged again, just long enough for me to feel the pain of not remembering.

I couldn't stop it.

It was like a constant loop, a glitch in my system that I couldn't fix. And yet, despite everything, despite the warmth I had found in this life, despite the love that Johnny and Abigail had shown me, his face never left.

I began to wonder if I was broken—if I was missing something, if there was a piece of me that I couldn't reclaim.

Abigail would speak to me, gently, calling me to dinner or asking about the day's work. Johnny would offer me advice or smile at me as I passed him by. But through it all, that face—the face of the boy I couldn't remember—lingered.

Every day, it was there. Every night, when I powered down, it came back. A glitch. A whisper.

A boy.

A boy who mattered.

The sun was high in the sky, its heat hanging heavy in the air. I stood just outside the barn, the sound of my boots crunching against the dirt as I scattered a handful of peck seed onto the ground for the roosters. The barn had always been a familiar space, a constant in the year I'd spent with Johnny and Abigail.

A truck rumbled into the driveway, and I looked up, recognizing the sound immediately. It was Billy, the delivery man, hauling fruit to Johnny and Abigail's farm as he did every day. I watched him park his truck, slamming the door shut with his back, and then grabbing a tray of fresh fruit from the truck bed.

When he saw me, he waved. I waved back, a smile tugging at my lips, and walked toward him.

"Hey, Y/n!" Billy called out as I approached.

"Morning, Billy. How's the delivery today?" I asked, glancing at the fruit as he set it down on a nearby table.

"Good. Got a couple more stops to make, but had to come by here first," Billy said with a grin. His easy smile was always a welcome sight.

Just then, the sliding door to the house creaked open, and Abigail stepped out. She lit up as she saw Billy.

"Oh! Billy! Hi!" she called out, walking toward us.

"Morning, Mrs. Willed!" Billy waved back.

"Come on in! Bring those delicious fruits with you. Have a cup of tea," she invited, stepping aside to let us in.

Billy looked at me, and I gave him a small smile. Together, we walked up the outside stairs to the house, stepping into the cool interior of the kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and I could hear Johnny's low voice as he sat at the table.

"Morning, Billy," Johnny said, his voice steady, like it always was in the morning.

"Morning, sir," Billy replied, placing the tray of fruit down on the counter.

"How's the delivery today?" Johnny asked, glancing over at him.

"Busy, but good," Billy said with a shrug, always the hard worker.

"Keepin' you on your toes, I see," Johnny replied, his deep voice rumbling with approval.

Abigail moved toward us, her movements graceful as she grabbed a glass of iced tea from the fridge and handed it to Billy with a smile. "Billy, why don't you take a break from the deliveries? Let me make you something to eat."

Billy hesitated, but he smiled warmly. "I appreciate it, Ms., but I've got to stop by the store for Mrs. Red's and pick up a couple things before I finish my route."

"Well, isn't that nice," Abigail said, smiling at his polite refusal.

"Sounds like lazy work to me," Johnny grumbled playfully, which earned him a gentle nudge from Abigail.

Billy and I both laughed softly at the exchange, the comfortable warmth.

"You sure I can't make you something?" Abigail asked again, her kindness ever-present.

"I'm sure, but I was wondering—maybe I can take Y/n with me? If that's okay with you both?" Billy asked, turning his attention to Johnny and Abigail.

Johnny and Abigail both glanced over at me, and I nodded.

"Have you fed the animals, Y/n?" Johnny asked, his gaze steady as always.

"Yes. They're all fed," I replied.

"Well, I don't see why not," Abigail said with a smile, her eyes warm. "Have fun, and be back soon. I'm making my brisket tonight."

"Ooo, my favorite," Johnny said, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, why don't you get your bum up and help then?" Abigail teased, tossing a rag over her shoulder in his direction.

"I'll be careful. Come on, Y/n," Billy said, and I gave him a quick nod.

"Bye!" I called to them.

"Bye!" Abigail called back with a wave.

Billy opened the sliding door for me, and I stepped outside. Together, we walked down the steps, and I followed him to the truck. He opened the door for me, and I slid into the passenger seat. The door clicked shut behind me, and I took a deep breath, feeling the coolness of the truck's interior against the warmth of the day.

The world outside was still, and for a moment, it felt like everything was right where it needed to be.

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The truck rumbled down the road, the wind whipping through my hair as we made our way toward town. I let the breeze tug at me, feeling it rush against my face.

"What does Mrs. Red need from the store?" I asked, glancing over at Billy, who was focused on the road ahead.

"The usual. Flour, corn bread, and a bottle of red wine," Billy replied, his voice steady.

I smiled, shaking my head slightly. "The wine that woman takes is gonna make her feel better than the wine itself."

Billy laughed a bit. "But it's still some tip money."

I nodded, agreeing silently. We continued down the road, the town coming into view. As we pulled into the parking lot, the noise and movement of the small town greeted us. It was busy this morning—mothers with their children, people chatting, moving through the streets. It was the life of the place I'd grown accustomed to over the past year.

We made our way into the store together, the cool air of the inside a welcome relief from the heat outside. Billy grabbed what we needed, his arms full as he moved through the aisles with ease. I followed closely behind, grabbing the last few items we needed.

At the front, the cashier scanned everything, bagging it in a simple brown sack. Billy took the bag from the counter, along with the change, and smiled at the cashier.

"Have a good day," she said as we turned to leave.

"Thank you. You too," Billy replied with a nod.

"Ready?" he asked, looking over at me as I adjusted the bag in my hands.

"Yeah," I answered, and we made our way out of the store.

As we stepped outside, the sound of commotion caught my attention. People had gathered around the police car, watching as two officers tackled a man to the ground. The scene was loud and chaotic, drawing the eyes of everyone nearby. I scanned the scene, and something about the man being arrested felt... familiar. I couldn't place why, but his face stirred something in me, even though his name didn't exist in my system.

The officers slammed his head onto the hood of their car, his arms restrained behind his back. His face twisted in pain, but his eyes—his eyes met mine. For a split second, our gazes locked, and I felt a jolt in my system, a strange, inexplicable connection.

The man's eyes widened in surprise at seeing me. I quickly scanned him—his dark outfit, the black leather, the knives hidden along his body. Something about him didn't add up. His presence felt... out of place, like I should have known him, but I didn't.

"Hey! Y/n!" he shouted suddenly, his voice strained as the officers kept him pinned to the car. The policeman hit him in the back with his baton, and he winced, but still, his eyes never left mine.

Billy's hand rested gently on my back, guiding me away from the scene. "Come on, Y/n, let's get to the truck."

I couldn't look away from the man as Billy nudged me toward the vehicle. His gaze never wavered from me, and I felt an odd tension in my system, a quiet hum that reverberated deep within. It was like a silent connection, a pull I couldn't explain.

Billy opened the door to the truck for me, and I slid into the passenger seat, the familiar weight of the bag in my lap. Billy shut the door behind me and went around to the driver's side. He placed the bag into the truck bed and climbed in.

As he started the engine and we pulled away from the store, my eyes lingered on the man. Even as we drove off, his gaze never left mine. My system still buzzed with the strange sensation of his stare, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something important had just happened.

We drove on, but the image of his eyes—sharp, dark, and full of recognition—remained with me, a memory I couldn't fully understand.

The truck rumbled down the road, kicking up dust as we made our way back to the farm. The wind rushed through the open window, tugging at my hair, but my system was stuck—looping, processing. The man at the store... he knew my name. His eyes locked onto mine like he had seen me before, like he recognized me. But why? How did I know that face?

A flicker of something—something buried deep—surfaced in my system. A fragmented file. Corrupted data. A feeling like déjà vu, but no name, no clear memory. Just... familiarity.

"You okay, Y/n?" Billy's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked, tuning back in to the present. He was still focused on the road, but his eyes flicked to me, concern laced in his voice.

I turned to him, forcing a small nod. "Perfect."

Billy didn't look convinced. "You sure?"

I hesitated for a moment before answering. "The man just caught my attention."

Billy exhaled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, I don't blame you. The scene he was making? Would've caught anyone's attention. Just glad we got out of there."

I nodded, but I wasn't thinking about the commotion. I was thinking about the way he looked at me. The way he said my name. The way my system flagged him as important—but refused to tell me why.

I turned back to the window, letting the warm Texas air rush against my face. But no matter how fast we drove, no matter how far we got from town, the image of his face remained. Etched into my system.

And I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somehow, I had just come face to face with a ghost from a past I couldn't remember.

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WORDS WRITTEN:
2215
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