Wesley hesitated, then shrugged. “I mean… yeah. I guess. But it’s not like it’s ruining my life or anything.” Henry tapped his fingers lightly against the bench. “Not in a way you notice.”

The night had settled in fully now, draping the park in a deeper shade of quiet. The distant hum of the city remained, but it felt different to Wesley now—less like background noise, more like something pressing in from the edges.

It was the kind of evening that made no demands. The air was still, crisp but not biting, and the city hummed in the distance, just enough to remind you it was there but not enough to pull you in. The park, tucked between old brick buildings, had emptied with the last light of day, leaving behind only the faint glow of a street lamp and the rustling of unseen things in the trees.