I didn't move.
The knock still echoed in my skull—knock, knock—each second stretching thin and sharp. My heart slammed so hard it hurt, like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.
"That voice," I whispered. "It can't be."
Serafin was already positioned slightly in front of me, his body angled toward the door, protective without asking permission. "Do you know him?"
"Yes," I breathed. "I hoped I never would again."
Another knock—firmer now. Thud. Thud.
"Caoimhe," the voice called again, warmer than it had any right to be. "I know you're in there."
I closed my eyes. Memories surged uninvited—laughing by the docks, cheap beer, promises made too easily. Then blood. Screaming. Silence.
"Don't open it," Serafin said quietly.
"I don't think he'll leave if I don't."
"That's not a reason."
"It is in this town."
I stepped forward before I could lose my nerve and unlocked the door—click—my fingers numb. The hinge groaned as I pulled it open—creeeeeak.
Declan stood on the porch, hands raised in mock surrender, a crooked smile already in place. He looked older. Thinner. But his eyes were the same—too knowing, too sharp.
"There you are," he said. "Fuck, it really is you."
"What do you want?" I asked flatly.
He glanced past me at Serafin. "Didn't expect company."
"You don't get to expect anything," I replied. "Not after everything."
Declan chuckled softly. "Still dramatic. Some things never change."
Serafin stepped closer. "You should leave."
Declan's smile faded. "And you are?"
"Someone who knows when a door needs to stay shut."
Declan laughed—a short, humorless sound. "Oh, this is rich. You bring her back just to hide her?"
"I came back on my own," I snapped. "Say what you came to say."
Declan's gaze returned to me, heavy now. "You shouldn't have come back, Caoimhe."
"That seems to be the theme tonight."
He lowered his voice. "They're restless."
"Who?" I demanded.
"You know who," he said. "The ones who cleaned up after you left."
My stomach churned. "I didn't ask anyone to clean up anything."
"No," Declan agreed. "You just walked away."
Serafin's jaw tightened. "Watch your tone."
Declan scoffed. "Or what? You'll tell her the truth?"
Silence slammed down between us.
"What truth?" I asked slowly.
Declan's eyes flicked between us. "You haven't told her?"
Serafin didn't answer.
My pulse roared in my ears—whoosh, whoosh. "Told me what?"
Declan took a step closer to the threshold. Serafin blocked him instantly.
"That's far enough," Serafin warned.
Declan raised his hands again. "Relax. I'm not here to hurt her."
"That's not comforting," I said.
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look, Caoimhe... things are moving. People are talking again. You showing up stirred shit that was finally settling."
"Then tell them to stop," I shot back.
Declan barked a laugh. "That's not how it works."
A phone rang suddenly—ring... ring—and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Not mine. Declan's.
He checked the screen, his expression darkening. "They're watching this place."
Serafin's eyes narrowed. "Then you're an idiot for coming here."
"Someone had to warn her," Declan replied. "You sure as hell weren't going to."
I looked between them. "Warn me about what?"
Declan met my gaze, serious now. "That the accident wasn't an accident."
The words hit like ice water.
"No," I said. "That's a lie."
"Is it?" he countered. "Because the files say otherwise."
"What files?" My voice shook.
"The ones that disappeared," Serafin said quietly.
I turned on him. "You knew?"
"I suspected."
"You suspected and didn't think to mention it?"
"Mentioning it gets people killed," Declan snapped.
A car slowed outside—crunch, crunch—tires against gravel. None of us moved.
"They're circling," Declan muttered.
"Then leave," Serafin said. "Now."
Declan hesitated, then looked at me one last time. "You should pack a bag."
"I just got here."
"That doesn't matter anymore."
He stepped back into the night, disappearing into the fog as the car sped off—vroooooom—too fast.
I stood there shaking, the door still open, cold air biting at my skin.
Serafin closed it gently—click—and turned to me.
"You should have stayed gone," he said softly.
I laughed, hollow and broken. "Yeah. I'm starting to see that."
My phone vibrated in my hand—bzzzzt—one final message lighting up the screen.
You remember now. That's dangerous.
I looked up at Serafin. "They're not done."
"No," he agreed. "They're just getting started."
And deep down, I knew whatever truth I'd buried all those years ago was about to drag me under with it.