“Macon!”

Macon Moultrie had been asleep, so at first he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard someone calling his name. After all, it was two in the morning on a school night.

And he was only twelve years old.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat still, listening for his name again. Maybe he’d just been dreaming…

“MACON MOULTRIE!”

Nope, someone was definitely calling his name— in a sharp whisper— as if they were trying to be loud and quiet at the same time.

It sounded like, whoever it was, was standing right outside his window.

Is this how serial killers lured their victims? Macon had to take pause for a moment and consider his options. He could ignore it, and stay up the rest of the night wondering who was calling to him, or he could look out the window and risk being murdered.

Against his better judgement, he decided to take a peek.

To his genuine surprise, it was his friend Josh Pruitt and Josh’s twin sister, Norah. They were looking up at him, their eyes wide, both of them shivering in their pajamas.

Macon cracked open the window. “Hey. What are y’all doing here?”

Josh looked at Norah, who looked like she was about to cry.

“Mom’s boyfriend,” he said. “He locked us out.”

Macon wasn’t completely shocked to hear that. Everyone in the trailer park knew the Pruitts’ mother had plenty of sketchy men coming in and out of her trailer at all hours of the night. There were always loud arguments at least once a week, many times only ending after Metro was called and a police officer or two would stop by to tell them to keep it down— that people had to work.

Macon had only known the Pruitt twins a couple months. He’d moved to Las Vegas with his mother after his grandpa died. Grandpa had left them a small inheritance, which gave them a chance to start over somewhere new.

Macon’s mother was the kind of woman who needed a lot of do-overs.

“What better place to start over than Vegas?” Momma had said.

“I can think of a few,” Macon had replied, but she’d just ignored him. Once his momma had an idea, there was no stopping her.

When they’d arrived in the desert from Broken Bow, Oklahoma, Macon had been less than impressed with their new digs. He’d hoped they’d at least graduate from trailer parks to an apartment or townhouse. But Momma liked how close the trailers were to the Strip.

“We’ll get something better eventually,” she’d said. “Once I hit the jackpot, we’ll buy a big ol’ house with a pool and a hot tub. It’s best we don’t spend too much on where we live now, this is just temporary. The thing about money is, you can either save it, spend it, or get it working for you. And in Las Vegas, you’d have to be a fool not to put your money to work. Macon, they even have slot machines in the 7-11! You’ll be glad we didn’t settle.”

Except this place felt like worse than settling.

His second day there he’d met Josh and Norah. They were nice enough kids, especially in a trailer park full of mean ones. Macon was a quieter sort, bookish and a loner, so he hesitated to play with the boys who hung out around the generators in the back of the park— smoking cigarettes and carving gang signs into their arms with safety pins. The one time he’d approached them and tried to introduce himself, they’d made fun of his country accent and made it very clear that he wasn’t welcome on “their turf.”

Josh and Norah were more like him. They stuck to themselves mostly, but they weren’t slow or dumb. Just outsiders, even among outsiders. All they had was each other. They were the first kids that made Macon feel cool because they were so uncool themselves.

And now here they stood, outside his window in the middle of the night. Josh was taller than Norah, even taller than Macon. He was a good looking kid; the kind you could tell would turn into a good looking man one day. And Norah was definitely his twin. They both had large eyes framed by long lashes.

If they’d been born to better people, they wouldn’t have had any problems in life.

“He really locked you out?” Mason whispered, looking around. “Well, what are y’all gonna do?”

Norah was full out crying now. She was trying her best to keep her sobs quiet, but her frail shoulders were shaking. Josh put his arm around her and pulled her close, whispering something in her ear. She nodded and looked up at Macon, the look on her face breaking his heart right there.

“We were hoping you might let us stay with you. Just until the morning,” Josh said. “We wouldn’t make a sound and we’d be out before your mom would even have to know. It’s just… really cold. And Norah is so tired. Even if it’s just her you let in, it would mean a lot to us, Macon. And we’re sorry to put you in this predicament.”

Josh Pruitt had a way of sounding so much older than he was. And Macon couldn’t stop staring at Norah and her sad eyes. They were like a Keane portrait. Macon’s mother had one piece of art in their trailer and it was a Keane print, a painting of one of the girls with big eyes that hung in her bedroom next to his third grade class picture. He’d never look at it the same after that night.

“Sure,” Macon said. “You can both come in. I have a trundle under my bed that I can pull out.”

Josh let out a sigh of relief and smiled at his sister, who was still somber, but slightly less so.

“See, Norah? This isn’t so bad,” Josh said. “We can sleep a couple hours and go back in the morning and get ready for school. Okay?”

Norah didn’t say anything, just looked up at Macon, her expression one of gratitude.

“I’ll let y’all in the front,” Macon said. “My mom isn’t even here. She works graveyard at Bally’s. She won’t be home until like nine or so.”

Macon was wide awake now. He walked quickly to the front door where Josh and Norah were waiting for him, eager to get out of the desert chill.

“We can’t thank you enough, Macon,” Josh said. “If there’s anything we can ever do to repay you, just let us know.”

Macon shook his head, “Naw, man. It’s the right thing to do. We’ve gotta look out for one another. My mom used to have a pretty mean boyfriend who would drink too much and get kind of crazy. So I get it.”

Josh nodded. “Thanks for understanding. Norah, you want the trundle?”

Macon spoke up. He was trying his best not to stare at Norah Pruitt.

“You can both have my room. I’ll sleep out here on the couch,” Macon offered.

Josh waved his hand. “No, man. That’s too much. It’s no big deal, we sleep on the couch at my mom’s place. We’re used to it.”

Macon insisted. “Seriously, no worries. Just get some rest. I’m gonna watch some TV for a while anyway.”

Josh shrugged. “Alright, I won’t fight you over it. It’ll be nice. You ready, Norah?” Josh looked at his twin, but she was staring at Macon.

Macon looked at her and it was like time stood still for a moment. Norah Pruitt was more than beautiful. She was angelic. He could barely stand to have her eyes on him. He didn’t feel worthy somehow.

Then she finally spoke.

“Thank you so much, Macon,” she said, in the sweetest voice he’d maybe ever heard. “I’ll never forget that you did this.”

As the Pruitt twins shuffled back to Macon’s tiny bedroom, Macon couldn’t help but think that it was he who would never forget.