"So, are you ready?" — Charlie appeared from the kitchen, holding a sheet of paper covered with numerous notes.
When Stiles looked at the paper with interest, Charlie slightly hesitated but still replied:
"We're missing a lot of groceries at home, so we'll need to stop by the store. And this", — he pointed at the paper, — "is a shopping list. I always end up forgetting something — must be getting old," — Charlie smiled cheerfully.
It was fair to admit that this was how the man's daily life looked. Since he was usually overwhelmed with work, coming home and cooking a meal was beyond his strength. So it was easier to pop into one of the local eateries in the morning and grab a quick bite.
Only on weekends, and when he was in a particularly good mood, Charlie would buy groceries and cook enough food for a couple of days. Something simple and easy to prepare, something that wouldn't spoil in a day or two — maybe even last a week in the fridge.
"You're quite self‑critical," — the young man chuckled сдержанно at the police chief, who seemed to treat him as an equal. — "Yeah, I'm ready — and my stomach is too," — Stiles laughed at the end, feeling his stomach demanding food, preferably as soon as possible.
"After living as long as I have, you'll understand," — Mr. Swan joined in the laughter, then continued, — "Alright, let's fill our bellies!"
Before they left the house together, Stiles handed Charlie's phone back to him.
"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" — Charlie asked after starting the truck, which roared to life as if waking from a long sleep — so happily it sounded.
"Of course not, go ahead," — Stiles replied, settling into the front seat.
The drive to the café passed quickly. The simple music put them in a positive mood, and a light, meaningless conversation gradually gave way to a comfortable silence.
"So, what did you say your name was?" — Mr. Swan asked again once they had wished each other a pleasant meal and started eating. — "Sorry for being so inquisitive, I just want to get everything straight," — he smiled awkwardly at the corners of his mouth.
"It's fine, I understand," — the young man waved it off. — "Mieczysław, but my friends just call me Stiles."
At this, the man froze, furrowing his bushy eyebrows, clearly trying to recall something from the distant past. Stiles tensed up internally, like a tightly stretched string — it felt like if this man knew anything about him, it definitely wouldn't be… well, they weren't even acquainted!
"Is your last name Stilinski, by any chance?"
Had his family reported him missing when he disappeared? No, that couldn't be — he had literally fallen apart right before their eyes. So there must be another explanation.
"Yes, how do you know?" — Stilinski agreed, asking for clarification.
"I knew your father — we worked together once… You look a lot like him, though your eyes are your mother's. It's a shame what happened to them…" — Charlie took a sip of coffee and continued, — "So, after you ran away from the orphanage — did you decide to come back? I've got some good news for you — the orphanage was shut down because the director was embezzling funds allocated for maintaining the building. He was, of course, arrested — and not just for that — and the building was demolished as unsafe; otherwise, it would have definitely collapsed on its own and hurt people. What have you been up to for the past two years?"
The information was pouring over the young man like from a cornucopia. Every word the man said made his body tremble. What had happened to his family? Why had he ended up in an orphanage? Too many questions were starting to arise, and it certainly wasn't making things any easier.
"Two years?" — Stiles asked in shock. Had the fox been messing with his head for two whole years?! No, something definitely didn't add up here.
«Damn supernatural world… as much as I hate talking to Nogitsune, I guess I'll have to discuss a few things with him», — the sheriff's son thought, regaining control of himself.
At that moment, a blonde figure approached them — her outfit clearly identified her as a waitress. The young man briefly fixed his gaze on her, admiring her. The girl had a confident and bold figure, and, as they say, legs that went on forever.
She placed a stack of waffles in front of them and said:
"On the house," — the waitress winked at Stiles, and he exhaled, about to thank her, but the charming young woman swiftly moved on to serve other customers.
"Did you like her?" — Charlie smiled knowingly. — "That's Elizabeth. She's in high school and helps her family out by working at the café in her free time. But let's not get sidetracked… According to the director, you ran away from the orphanage two years ago — of course, you were reported as missing. I also joined the investigation and search efforts at the time — you weren't a stranger to me — but we couldn't find anything. It was like you just vanished. And now here you are again…"
"I… don't know… everything's like a fog… I don't really remember much before meeting you, just some fragments. Do you think I could have been kidnapped?" — the inner sheriff, buried deep within the young man, woke up.
"Well, unless you've learned to fly, then yes, I think so. During the investigation, we found a lot of documents indicating that the orphanage director was trafficking children under the guise of adoptions and fostering. But we couldn't figure out where exactly you were taken. There were many guesses — one worse than the other. So, how about we go to the hospital now and get you checked out? We need to figure out your condition. Do you mind?"
"No, of course not," — Stiles replied slightly bewildered by the sudden intensity, processing the information as he spoke. — "I'm grateful to you, Charlie."
"Don't mention it, son," — the man smiled dryly. — "After all, my daughter is about your age. Now, our town is small, and after the orphanage closed and you were reported missing, you didn't really have anywhere to go. How about I file for guardianship over you until you turn eighteen?"
"What? I…" — the young man hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do with himself, but reason told him to accept — this way, he could gradually figure out where he actually was and how to get home. He just needed to piece the puzzle together. — "I agree."
"Great!" — the sheriff exclaimed joyfully, glad that he could do something for the son of his old friend. — "Though, you'll have to catch up on your studies…" — Charlie mused thoughtfully, realizing the young man would definitely need to enroll in school.
«Maybe I should involve Jacob in this? He's quick‑witted — he might be able to give Stiles some pointers…» — Mr. Swan thought to himself.
"Settled, I get in touch with Jacob after we sort out the details. His father and I are old friends, so he won't refuse to help you with your studies!"
"Uh, yeah, okay…" — Stiles couldn't quite keep up with the sheriff's train of thought.
«But it seems Mr. Swan really is a great guy…» — Stiles noted cheerfully to himself, watching the energetic sheriff. It looked like his life was finally starting to get back on track.
"Elizabeth, could you settle our bill?" — Charlie called out to the waitress, taking his last sip of coffee.
"Coming right up, Mr. Swan."
«Maybe I really should get to know her?» — a thought flashed through the young man's mind…