Page 43 of Unfinished Noise

He’d thought Tom would come back.

He didn’t.

Jamie had wandered into the street, shaking so hard he could barely walk. Cars passed him, none stopping. He remembered thinking he might freeze right there on the sidewalk.

And then Spencer appeared.

A warm coat.

A gentle voice.

A stranger who looked at him like he mattered.

Jamie swallowed hard, forcing himself back into the present.

Tom drove as if nothing were wrong. Like he hadn’t abandoned Jamie in a snowstorm. Like he hadn’t left him to freeze.

Jamie’s jaw tightened.

Tom glanced over. “You okay?”

Jamie stared straight ahead. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t. Not even close.

Alfie leaned forward from the back seat. “Jamie?”

Jamie turned slightly. “Yeah, buddy?”

“You’re shaking.”

Jamie looked down. His hands trembled against his jeans. He curled them into fists. “Just cold,” he lied.

Tom said nothing, but Jamie saw his jaw clench.

The car turned onto their street. Jamie’s chest tightened with every passing house. He didn’t know what Spencer would say when he called. He didn’t know if Spencer was angry or hurt or disappointed. But he knew one thing:

Spencer would never leave him in the snow.

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

Tom parked in front of the house. “Inside,” he said. “Call them.”

Jamie stepped out, the memory still clinging to him like frost. Alfie followed close, eyes wide, nervous. Jamie didn’t look back at Tom.

He walked inside, ready to talk to Spencer—because Spencer had always been the one who found him when he was lost.

Tom stepped inside and looked around. “Nice home, Jamie.”

Jamie shrugged. “Yeah. It is.”

Tom pointed toward opposite ends of the enormous living room. “Alfie, over there. Jamie, over here. Call them. Now.”

Jamie grabbed his phone, the screen lighting up with a flood of missed calls and messages.

He called Spencer. Across the room, Alfie punched Nathan’s number. Tom waited, arms crossed, until both calls connected.