The dusty town of Redemption Creek unfolded outside the bus window, a stark contrast to the city's sharp edges I was leaving behind. My duffel bag felt heavy with more than just clothes; it was weighted with a court order, my father's quiet disappointment, and the looming, awkward reality of living with a stranger who supposedly knew a version of my dad I never did. Uncle Leo—though he wasn't really my uncle—was waiting at the old depot, a man shaped by sun and hard work, his smile not quite reaching the cautious assessment in his eyes. This wasn't a vacation. This was my sentence, served under a wide, unforgiving sky, in the last place my teenage self ever wanted to be.