Since 1998

How could someone so innocent, sweet, and sheltered have turned into a lethal weapon? Whether or not it's predestined, the way their paths cross consistently tells a chilling, complex love story. It was a hot summer day in South Carolina, 1998, when Devin stood at the edge of the ocean. He tried to remember what his parents looked like, but their faces were already slipping away. Tears streamed down his cheeks as some fell into the water. "Life is cruel," he whispered. Then, out of the heavy silence, something in the sky caught his attention—a kite tumbling rapidly and nearly hitting him. A girl hurried closely behind, determined to reach it before it touched the ground. She was petite and glowing with sunlight, with eyes as blue as the ocean and blonde hair flowing softly in the wind. The kite landed directly on Devin's head before sliding into the sand. He picked it up. He was lost for words. "Hi! Can I have my kite back?" she asked. Devin said nothing. "Are you mute?" Devin said to himself, "Well, I'm not, for sure." Until he finally spoke. It was the first time he'd talked to anyone in two years. "Blabbermouth." The girl tilted her head. "Blabbermouth?" "You're annoying, too," Devin added, turning his back to walk away. But she was right on his heels. "Stop following me." "My kite is still in your hand!" Devin stopped abruptly, realizing he was still clutching the frame. He handed it over and kept walking, but she didn't budge. "I said stop." "Tell me your name, at least," she pleaded. "I'm Allison. My nanny told me my name comes from my ancestors. What about you?" Devin halted and looked at her, a laugh suddenly bursting out of him. "Ancestors?" "Yes! And I'm ten, turning eleven in September. How about you?" "Ten? You talk like my uncle," Devin laughed again, the weight in his chest loosening. "I'm Devin. I'm a year older than you." "Nice to meet you, Devin." Allison tracked him all the way to his sandcastle, her face glowing with amusement. "You built this by yourself?" "Yep," Devin said. "Can I join?" "Okay," Devin answered coldly. "You're persistent, I give you that. You are now my friend." Allison smiled. Her happiness was priceless. Devin then played with her. He showed her how to shape a sandcastle to make it sturdy. As they were playing, Allison spotted a figure in the distance. "My nanny is coming," she said, pointing to Maria, a woman in her forties with curly hair and a distinct Spanish heritage. "Too bad," Devin muttered, shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched Maria approach. "She's probably here to pick you up." "What about you, Devin? Do you have a nanny?" "I kick their asses," Devin answered bluntly. Allison's eyes widened as her thoughts immediately turned to the only nanny she knew, Maria. "Are they big?" she asked curiously. "They're men," Devin said. As Maria drew closer, Devin realized why Allison had asked. Maria was tall and commanding, her presence seeming to fill the entire beach. From a distance, Ben, his sole guardian in his thirties, felt a sudden sense of relief. He hadn't seen Devin smile with anyone in a very long time. Daniel Hollingsworth, meanwhile, got out of the black Mercedes. He looked like a man in a suit, even though he was only ten. He stared at the waves with icy eyes, not even looking at the other children. He stood still while he watched the two kids giggling over sandcastles. His thoughts are deep, maybe he wished he had that same freedom. "Daniel!" His mother called out. He climbed into the back of the car but paused for a second, looking back at the shore. One day, Devin got tired of sandcastles. So he told Allison, "Let's build a fort." "A fort?" "A strong one. Something the water can't easily ruin." They spent the day dragging driftwood and abandoned crates to the dunes. By sunset, they had finished a tiny, lopsided house. The rough wood was still warm from the sun and smelled of old pine and dried salt. Allison crawled inside and sprawled out on the sand. "I could live here!" she exclaimed. "Just you, then," Devin replied. "I'm going home." "That's not fair, but it's okay; my nanny's right there." She pointed to Maria, who sat on a towel nearby, occasionally glancing up from her book. Allison leaned in, her voice a mischievous whisper. "Did you know she has three boyfriends? She's always laughing on the phone." Devin burst into laughter, a sound that was both strange and pleasant. "What about your mom? Why is it always your nanny? Isn't she around much?" "She's busy. Always." She looked at him quietly. "Devin? Where are your mom and dad? Can I meet them?" Devin looked out at the horizon, the orange light reflecting in his eyes. "They're in heaven," he said. Her eyes widened. "What are they doing in heaven?" Devin wanted to laugh, but he kept a cool demeanor. "They went shopping." "Really?" She sat up, dead serious. "My parents have never been to heaven. I'm going to ask if we can go there, too." "Seriously, Allison? You're not playing dumb, are you?" Devin laughed until his sides ached. "Heaven isn't a mall, Allison." "Then what is it?" "It's up there, silly," Devin replied. "It's a place where dead people go," as they said." "They?" "Older people, like my uncle," Devin answered patiently. That night, Devin returned home smiling. His home is a vast estate yet hollow. Devin passed his family portrait, his parents' painted eyes tracking him as he went up the stairs. "Hi Mom! Hi Dad!" "Devin, dinner is ready." Ben Austin stood in the doorway, dressed sharply in a charcoal suit that looked expensive even in the dim light. They sat at a table built for twelve, the clink of silverware the only sound between them. "She's becoming special, isn't she?" Ben asked. "What's her family name?" "Ainsley," Devin said. The glass hovered in the air. Ben’s face went stone cold. "Ainsley?" Devin narrowed his eyes. "Why? You seem surprised, Uncle."