“So…” I start, my face warming at the idea of Chloe listening in on my sappy thoughts—I still have some dignity left. “You needed help moving some stuff?”

“Yes!” She claps her hands, and a zing of golden excitement races through my veins. “I want to clear away some of my sculpture stuff to make room for Frank’s paintings and, well—”

“You’re built like a scarecrow?” I tease. She laughs, big and bright, and my whole body feels bathed in sunlight.

I’m about to ask who Frank is when a cloud comes in, smothering the sunlight. My shoulders tense as something big and foreign climbs on top of them. This isn’t like one of Adam’s storms. This is a tornado, an electrical storm, a fire, and a flood all at once.

“Frank! Hi!” I hear Chloe say over the slide of the metal door. I turn around and feel a spark of familiarity—both in the face and the feelings. Chloe is smiling warmly at the man—Frank—gesturing him into the studio. He’s older—maybe thirty—ratty clothes hanging off his tall frame, the dark skin of his cheeks sunken into his face. I’ve seen him before.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says, gentler than I could have thought possible from someone with feelings as big as his. They’re spinning me around—fear, sadness, anxiety—and I can’t find stillness long enough to grab on to any one of them. I’ve not only seen him before—I’ve felt this before.

“You’re the homeless man who sits outside the bank,” I blurt. Chloe visibly winces but I barely notice because there’s raw, cold fear clutching my heart.

“No, shit, sorry—” I apologize frantically. “I didn’t mean—I’ve just seen you around, that’s all.”

“Frank is a friend,” Chloe says in a way that makes me feel like a child who just broke a fancy vase. “I’m helping him work on his paintings.”

“Oh, right.” I nod. Frank is still standing in the doorway, staring at me with big, frightened eyes.

“Frank, this is Caleb.” Chloe’s sugary compassion is pushing me to move my feet in Frank’s direction. “Caleb, Frank.”

“Nice to meet you, man.” I stick out my hand like I didn’t just make an awkward spectacle of myself moments ago. He pauses before taking his hand off the door and reaching for mine. The moment our palms touch, the tornado starts again, making me sway. The fear is enormous—bigger than I’ve ever felt from anyone before—but it doesn’t spur a fight-or-flight response. I’m frozen in place, feeling like maybe I should just give in to the fear. Maybe I deserve it.

“Hey, Caleb, you okay?” A soft hand touches on my shoulder and I let go of Frank’s hand to look into Chloe’s concerned face.