Chapter Three

We walked for what felt like forever. The cold wind whipped around us, making my eyes water and my fingers numb. Gravel crunched beneath our shoes, and the only other sound was the soft rustling of trees swaying gently in the breeze.

I kept close to Aunt May, like she asked, even though every now and then I caught her glancing over her shoulder—like she sensed something. Like she didn’t trust the quiet.

Then, finally, just when I started to think we’d be walking forever, I saw it.

“There,” I said, pointing ahead. “Is that…?”

A small building stood in the distance, tucked just off the road behind a crooked sign that read GAS & SUPPLY in faded red letters. A single rusted pump stood out front, and beside it, an old vending machine that looked like it hadn’t worked in years.

Aunt May narrowed her eyes. “Looks like a gas station.”

“Should we check it out?”

She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes scanned the area—parking lot empty, windows dusty but unbroken. Then, finally, she nodded. “Yeah. Stay close.”

We stepped off the road and headed toward it, hope flickering in my chest.

Maybe we could fix the car.

Maybe we could go back.

Maybe everything wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

We pushed open the door to the gas station. A little bell above it jingled as we stepped inside. The place smelled like old wood and dust, but it was warm, and the lights were still working.

Behind the counter stood a girl. She looked about my age, maybe a little older. She had long blonde hair tied back in a braid, and her bright blue eyes looked up as we walked in.

“Hey there,” she said with a smile. “You guys okay?”

I blinked, surprised by her tone. It was soft. Kind.

She looked like the kind of girl I usually stayed away from—perfect hair, perfect skin, probably popular. Most of the blondes at my school had never been nice to me. They laughed behind my back or ignored me like I didn’t exist.

So I expected her to roll her eyes or act fake.

But she didn’t.

She smiled again and stepped out from behind the counter. “Do you need help?”

Aunt May gave a small nod. “Car broke down. About a mile back.”

The girl’s smile didn’t fade. “You’re lucky.

My brothers are out back—they kinda sorta fix cars.”

Aunt May raised an eyebrow. “Kinda sorta?”

The girl laughed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “They’re not exactly professionals, but they’ve fixed worse. I’ll go get them.”

She disappeared through a side door, leaving Aunt May and me standing near the counter. I rubbed my hands together, trying to warm them up. The heat inside the gas station felt good, but it didn’t reach the tight knot in my chest.

Aunt May wandered toward the dusty snack shelf, pretending to look at the faded wrappers, but I could tell she was listening closely—her ears perked, her shoulders tense.

A minute later, the girl returned, holding the door open. “They’re coming,” she said.

A few minutes later, two tall guys walked in through the door she had opened. They looked exactly alike—like twins. It was hard to tell them apart. Both had messy brunette hair, strong jaws, and clear skin that looked like they just stepped out of a TV commercial. Damn, they were handsome.

They were so tall too—almost 6’7”. I had to look up to meet their eyes.

They didn’t say much at first, just glanced over at Aunt May and me with quiet confidence.

The girl smiled and nodded toward them. “That’s Mufasa and Matisse.”

When the girl said their names—Mufasa and Matisse—I almost choked on my own breath. Mufasa? Like the Lion King? It caught me off guard.

One of the twins laughed quietly at my reaction, the sound light and easy. The other twin didn’t laugh at all. His eyes stayed serious, watching me carefully.

From that, I guessed the quiet one was Mufasa. The twin who didn’t laugh.

Aunt May cleared her throat and stepped forward. “So, can you help us with the car?”

Matisse smiled and nodded. “Sure, let’s go take a look at it.”

Without waiting for more, he stepped outside, the other twin right behind him. I followed Aunt May as we walked toward where our car was parked, not too far from the gas station.

Matisse opened the driver’s door and waved us in. “Hop in,” he said.

The inside of the car was clean and smelled faintly of leather and pine air freshener. I climbed into the backseat while Aunt May sat beside Matisse in the front.

He started the engine, and the car rumbled to life. “I’ll drive you to where your car broke down,” Matisse said, glancing at Aunt May in the mirror.

The twins didn’t say much, but the quiet confidence they had made me feel a little safer than before.

As we drove down the dusty road, I stared out the window, watching the trees blur by. The cold wind was gone for now, replaced by the warmth inside the car.

After a few minutes, the car slowed down and turned onto a narrow dirt path lined with tall trees. The sunlight barely touched the ground here, and the air smelled fresh but a little wild.

Matisse parked the car a short distance away from where our broken-down car sat, its hood still up like a sad sign of defeat.

I stepped out, my boots crunching on the dry dirt, and looked over at Aunt May, who was already pulling on her gloves.

Matisse and Mufasa didn’t waste time. They moved toward our car with easy steps, already talking quietly about what might be wrong.

I stayed close, heart pounding a little, hoping this wouldn’t take too long—and that we’d actually get the car fixed.

The twins knelt down and started inspecting under the hood. Matisse pointed here, Mufasa checked there, their movements smooth and practiced even if they called themselves “kinda sorta” car fixers.

Aunt May watched them carefully, still alert but slowly relaxing.

After a few minutes of working together, Matisse straightened up and gave a small nod. “Looks like it should start now,” he said.

Mufasa climbed into the driver’s seat of our car, his tall frame barely fitting comfortably. He took a deep breath, then turned the key in the ignition.

The engine sputtered once, twice, then roared to life with a steady hum.

A smile tugged at the corner of Matisse’s mouth. “Told you we could fix it.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, feeling the tight knot in my chest loosen just a little.

Aunt May gave a small, relieved smile. “Thank you.”

I climbed into the front seat next to Aunt May, not bothering to go to the back. The car felt warm and steady as Mufasa started driving.

We drove in silence for about ten minutes, the road winding through tall trees. Then I saw a sign by the side of the road that read: Welcome to Havensbrooke.

My heart beat faster. This was the place we were heading to—our new home.

After another twenty minutes, the car slowed down and we arrived.

Ahead of us stood a small, cozy house surrounded by trees and quiet. It looked peaceful.

For now, this was where we would stay.