Jonah was smiling as he turned the key to unlock the door to Pop’s big, old house.

He’d been smiling ever since he left Mitch’s place. Actually, ever since before he even got to Mitch’s place.

Smiling was starting to become Jonah’s default expression, and he was… well… happy about it. He wasn’t sure whether it was being around Mitch, or Pop, or just being back in Hidden Creek—probably all of the above—but it was such a contrast to the way he normally felt these days that it really was like living someone else’s life while he was away from New York.

Someone who wasn’t stressed all the time. Someone who wasn’t trying to do everything alone. Someone who had a family and a home and… Mitch.

It was a support network that he hadn’t realized he’d been lacking in New York until he started to compare the two places.

Jonah looked around as he stepped inside the house. God, why was it always so dark in this front room? Sure, it was just past eight at night, but the summer sun had just set, leaving beautiful orange and purple streaks across the sky.

You’d never know it from the sitting room in Pop’s house, though.

It might as well be midnight.

Jonah moved through the dark room to the hallway that led back to the kitchen and living room, where Pop spent most of his time indoors.

The first thing he noticed was that the lights were off in this part of the house, too.

The second thing he noticed was that the door to the back yard was standing wide open.

Pop didn’t leave doors open. Not at night. Not with the air conditioner still running. Not ever.

“Pop?” Jonah called, but he was already moving quickly to the back door, not even bothering to check the bedroom. “Pop, are you out here?”

He opened the door and his heart jumped into his throat when he saw Pop slumped in a chair on the porch. Jonah rushed over, but even as he bent down to reach for the older man, he could see the faint rise and fall of his chest.

“Oh, thank God,” Jonah said out loud, hesitating for a moment with his hand outstretched.

If Pop was just sleeping out here, Jonah didn’t want to startle him. But if he was just sleeping, why had he left the door open? That still didn’t make sense.

“Pop?” Jonah called quietly, crouching down to eye level as he gently tapped his grandpa’s shoulder. “Pop, wake up. It’s time to go inside.”

He didn’t stir at all.

Jonah touched Pop’s arm this time, gently shaking him. “Pop,” he said, louder, then backed off a little as his eyelids fluttered. “Pop, wake up. I’m home now.”

“Jonah?” Pop’s voice sounded weak and his eyes were just barely open. “Is that you? Everything is…”

“It’s me, Pop. Jonah.” He was trying not to let the feeling of panic creep into his voice, but the more time that passed, the more Jonah could tell that something wasn’t right. “What were you gonna say, Pop? Everything is… what?”

“Fuzzy,” the old man said, but his speech was so slurred that it was hard to make out. “Everything… fuzzy.”

His eyes were open a little more, but his stare was vacant, like he was looking at Jonah from a mile away.

“Let’s get you inside, Pop.” Jonah stood and tried to help him to his feet. “Can you walk?”

“I—I don’t… think so…” Pop shook his head and slumped back against the chair. “I tried. Got to the door. But I… had to rest.”

“Oh my God.” Jonah was in full-on panic mode now, but he needed to breathe. Needed to think. Needed to take care of Pop. “I’m going to call an ambulance, okay? They’ll know what to do. It’ll just be a few minutes. Okay, Pop? Can you hear me?”

His head lifted in a barely perceptible nod, but that was enough confirmation for Jonah that he was doing the right thing. If Pop had been himself at all, he would have fought tooth and nail about going to the hospital.

Everything up to that point had seemed to happen in slow motion, but everything after went by in a blur.

The 911 call.

The blaring sirens and flashing lights that seemed so out of place on the quiet residential street.

The paramedics that had Pop bundled up and onto a stretcher within minutes of Jonah making the call.

“I’ll follow you in the car,” Jonah called out to nobody in particular. The paramedics weren’t paying attention to him and Pop looked like he was sleeping again, so frail and tiny-looking as they loaded him into the ambulance.

For a moment, Jonah just stood there. He thought about insisting on riding with Pop, but the one rational bit of his brain knew they’d need a way home from the hospital if—when—everything turned out okay.

Finally, one of the first responders turned in Jonah’s direction. “He’s gonna be okay. Can you follow us to the hospital? Are you okay to drive?”

Jonah nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be right behind you.”

He felt for his keys in his pocket and walked back into the house, then closed and locked the back door. His legs felt like they were weighted down with cement blocks as he walked back through the dark house to the front door, where he’d just come in feeling so happy and wonderful not even twenty minutes before.

His smile was gone.

The only family he knew was in an ambulance speeding toward the hospital.

For the first time since he’d been in Hidden Creek, he felt that same cold feeling that he’d previously thought was unique to New York.

He felt uncertain.

Helpless.

Alone.

But right now it wasn’t about him or what he felt. He had to get to the hospital.

He had to make sure Pop was okay.

“Jonah?” Pop’s voice was so soft that it had almost been lost among the faint hums and beeps from the machines that he was hooked up to.

Even in the otherwise silent hospital room, Jonah had almost missed it. But he had heard Pop’s voice, and had seen the thin bed sheet shift slightly as the older man tried to sit up.

“I’m here, Pop,” Jonah said, standing up from the chair where he’d been sitting at his grandpa’s side. “I’m right here with you. You’re going to be okay.”

Pop looked up at him, still as if he was coming out of a dream or a fog, but at least he had lost the vacant stare from earlier.

Thank God.

“What happened to me?” Pop asked.

“That’s a good question,” Jonah answered with a faint smile. “I was hoping you could tell me. The doctor said you were very dehydrated.”

For several long seconds, Pop was still and silent. If he hadn’t still been looking right into Jonah’s eyes, Jonah would have wondered if he had suddenly fallen back asleep.

Finally, Pop nodded. “I was out in the garden. I—I guess I must have lost track of time. I started to get hot, then cold, and I figured I should probably go inside.”

“The back door was open when I found you on the porch,” Jonah prompted.

He didn’t want to push for too much information while Pop was so weak, but he needed to know what happened, and the more time that passed, the less likely Pop was to remember all of it—or be willing to talk about it.

“I thought I could make it inside,” Pop said. “I got to the door and then everything started going dark. Thank God the chair was right there or I probably would have hit the ground.”

“Oh my God, Pop.” Jonah sat down hard on the chair and took his grandpa’s hand. “I’m sorry. I should have been there. I thought I’d be back well before sundown, but I just—”

“No.” Pop squeezed his hand gently and shook his head. “No, stop that. This is not your fault, Jonah.”

“It’s really not.” Mitch’s voice made them both turn toward the door. “But I feel like it is partly my fault, sir. I shouldn’t have kept Jonah out for so long. I’m sorry.”

“Mitchell?” Pop blinked, then furrowed his brow. “Stop talking nonsense and come over here where I can see you. What are you even doing here?”

“Mitch, it’s the middle of the night. I didn’t mean for you to come…” Jonah began, but couldn’t finish past the lump in his throat.

And even though he genuinely hadn’t meant for Mitch to come when he’d typed out a short, frantic text earlier, Jonah was still awfully glad to see him.

“You’re both here,” Mitch said, walking over to stand next to Jonah at the foot of the bed. “Where else would I be?” He turned his attention to Pop. “How are you feeling? Ready for us to bust you out of here?”

Pop grinned. He looked exhausted, but happy. “I wish. I’m tired but they say I’ll be just fine. I think they’re planning on keeping me overnight, though, just in case.” He shook his head. “It’s hell getting old. Can’t even garden without causing a fuss.”

Jonah opened his mouth to mention that gardening hadn’t been the main issue here, but stopped himself. The last thing he wanted was to make Pop feel bad, and it wasn’t like any of this was easy on him. It probably really was hell to realize that his body couldn’t keep up with one of his favorite activities anymore.

“We’ll have you back home and ready to garden real soon, Pop,” Jonah said instead. “And I’m gonna be right there with you to make sure you don’t need a thing.”

“And I’ll be here, too, if either of you need anything,” Mitch said, looking from Pop to Jonah.

“You don’t need to stay, Mitchell,” Pop began, but then shrugged and closed his eyes. “But thank you…”

“Yes,” Jonah nodded, turning his attention from Pop to Mitch. “Thank you.”

Mitch pulled up a chair next to Jonah’s and sat down, then reached over and gently rubbed small circles on Jonah’s back. “You don’t need to thank me. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Jonah smiled, suddenly feeling every bit as exhausted as Pop looked. It had been a long night for both of them—for all of them, really. But at least the worst was over.

And at least Jonah wasn’t alone. Just knowing that much made him feel better.

They would all get through this. They would all be okay.

Together.