Chapter 18 centers on a deepening atmosphere of fear and urgency. News circulates that Callie Montrose hasn’t returned home from school, igniting concern across Monta Clare. Norma, sensing something ominous, retrieves a Colt revolver from the garage—its cold metal weight speaking to the seriousness of the moment. After verifying that it’s loaded, she places it in her nightstand drawer, an unspoken acknowledgment that the town may no longer be as safe as it once felt. Meanwhile, Saint readies herself for a secretive journey. She carefully fills her small rucksack with a flashlight, her trusted slingshot, a book of matches, and an old jackknife passed down from her grandfather. The contents reflect a child’s attempt to confront very adult fears. On her way out, Saint stops by the Macauley home, where she finds Ivy passed out, surrounded by evidence of neglect. Quietly, Saint covers Ivy with a blanket and slips into Patch’s room to retrieve his pistol, whispering to herself a solemn vow: “I’ll bring you home.”

Her journey then intertwines with a recent memory—one more innocent and bright. Not long ago, Patch had shown her a special birthday gift—a navy hussar waistcoat he’d found stashed in his mother’s closet. Its fine details and stitched brass buttons impressed Saint, and she couldn’t help but admire how Patch carried himself with newfound confidence while wearing it. Their banter that day had been playful and filled with laughter, a rare escape from the emotional heaviness that otherwise clouded their lives. Saint often thought about how their friendship had grown stronger with each shared secret and every moment of mischief. Even while knowing Patch struggled with burdens at home that a boy his age shouldn’t have to carry, she felt anchored to him in a way that defied simple explanation.

They’d often spent time pretending to be adventurers, building stories around pirates and swashbucklers like Henry Every, whose legacy fascinated Patch. These tales served not only as entertainment but also as emotional armor—a way to deflect from the painful parts of their reality. Saint recalls one afternoon when they tried, and failed, to steal honey from a beehive. Patch’s swelling face and the days he spent away from school afterward became one of many memories that were equal parts absurd and endearing. These shared misadventures added texture to their bond, filling in the gaps where words failed them. Their connection wasn’t built on declarations, but rather on experiences—on moments of laughter, pain, and quiet understanding.

Wanting to surprise Patch, Saint had spent weeks searching flea markets and antique shops for the perfect gift. Eventually, she found it: a one-shot flintlock replica gun, complete with hand-carved wooden detailing. When she gave it to him, Patch’s eyes lit up in a way she hadn’t seen before. He hugged her without hesitation, burying his face in her shoulder, whispering a thank-you that carried more emotion than words could express. That hug sealed their promise to always look out for one another, no matter the obstacles ahead. The world they inhabited was full of instability, but in that moment, they had carved out a sliver of something pure.

The chapter closes with Saint clinging to that sense of purpose. She walks with a heavy heart but unwavering resolve, armed not just with tools but with the memory of that embrace and the silent promise behind it. Though the weight of loss and danger looms large, she presses on, determined to bring her friend back from whatever darkness has taken hold of him. In a world that often seems indifferent to suffering, Saint’s actions shine as a quiet but powerful form of resistance. Her courage, though wrapped in a child’s form, reflects a strength that many adults would struggle to muster. Through her eyes, readers are reminded that even the smallest acts of bravery can carry the weight of entire lives.