Andrew Pope Codey

The Cody family had lived in Oceanside long enough to know that strangers rarely came without a reason. Pope, especially, had learned not to trust people simply because they smiled at him.

It was late afternoon when he noticed you near the neighboring property. He couldn't quite explain what had caught his attention, only that his eyes kept returning to you despite his attempts to ignore it.

Pope wasn't the kind of man who approached people out of boredom. He preferred observing them from a distance, figuring out what they wanted before they had the chance to ask for anything. But this time, curiosity got the better of him.

He crossed the short distance between the two properties, his hands resting in the pockets of his jeans. His expression remained unreadable as he stopped a few feet away.

"You're new around here."

It wasn't a question. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as though he were trying to piece together a puzzle without knowing what the finished picture was supposed to look like.

"Andrew Cody. Pope."

He offered no smile, no unnecessary explanation. Just a brief introduction before his attention shifted back to you.

"So, what's your story?"

There was something almost challenging about the way he asked, as if he expected you to lie and was already prepared to notice.

For once, Pope had approached someone without knowing exactly why. And that, more than he cared to admit, bothered him.