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Eight years earlier...

The annual charity event held in the town of Darlington every year is hosted by Loretta herself. There's a huge bake sale and an auction the entire town looks forward to, or so I've heard. This is my first time attending the grand festivity, and when my Dad pulls up outside of her house, we can't even find parking. Cars are littered on the lawn and almost down the entire road before we actually find a spot.

"I heard they're auctioning off a typewriter," my Dad says excitedly. "I'm going to try and win it."

I tease a smile. "Even if it's five hundred dollars?"

He shrugs. "It's for the kids." The cancer society to be exact. Loretta puts all of this effort into doing this, and yet she's still the most feared woman in Darlington. I don't understand it. She may come off cold and harsh to others, but deep down, she has a heart of gold. She's treated me with nothing but respect since I've shown up here, and she single-handedly is the reason Wyatt and I are together in the first place.

Outside, we see the gravel pathway leading up to Loretta's lit up by fairy lights strung from wooden gondolas. Some people are scattered on the front porch drinking beers, but since the January weather is bitter cold, most have opted to remain indoors.

"Wyatt here?" My Dad guesses.

"How'd you know?"

"Please." He rolls his eyes as he holds open the door for me. "You wouldn't have come to this if he weren't here. I know my daughter better than anyone."

I laugh as we both step inside. He's not wrong. I haven't exactly been the best townsperson since coming here. I go to The Starlighter and sometimes the ice cream shop with Wyatt and his friends, but for the most part, I stay back at home or take Dolly on rides in the backyard of Wyatt's farm.

"Hey, Macey!" I whip my head around to see Parker leaning against the banister of Loretta's grand entrance of a staircase. A huge chandelier hangs from the almost twenty-foot ceilings, lighting up the smile on his face.

"Oh, hey Parker." My Dad waves goodbye and wanders through the crowd of people to more than likely get a good seat for the auction, leaving the both of us alone. "Have you seen Wyatt?"

"Uh, yeah. He just went to get a drink." He scans the thick heaps of people. "I can keep you company while you wait for him to get back." There's a strand of black hair that falls into his eyes, but he quickly swipes it away and clears his throat. "Have you tried any of the sweets yet?"

A huge table is lined up with an arrangement of cakes, cupcakes, and pies to the left of us. Shelly, who I've been told is the best baker in town, is seated behind the table in the dining room chatting up a pair of elderly women. "I haven't, but you can sure as hell bet I'm going to."

Parker laughs, and the sound is foreign. It's floaty and gruff and actually causes me to smile. "I think you're gettin' the hang of the southern slang, Macey."

"Me?" I gasp and place a hand over my heart. "No way. I'm always going to be a New York girl at heart. It's where I belong."

"Me too," he says, catching me off guard. "I can't wait to get the hell out of here."

"You're not staying in Darlington?"

"And do what? Hunt and fish for the rest of my life? In case you haven't noticed—" He waves his hand over his outfit which consists of a pair of black ripped skinny jeans and a graphic t-shirt. "I don't belong here. I never have."

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