Mara -POV
Ethan is still standing there after I told him to leave.
The receipt with his phone number sits on the counter between us. Lily has gone back to coloring, but her shoulders are tense. Listening.
"Just five minutes," Ethan says. "Then I'll go. I promise."
I should say no. Should lock the door behind him and never look back. But there's something in his face that I remember from before. From when we were seventeen and stupid and thought we could save each other.
"Not here." My voice comes out strange. Scratchy. "Tomorrow. Riverside Park. Two o'clock."
"Okay."
He leaves. The bell chimes. I lock the door and flip the sign to closed even though it's only five thirty and we usually stay open until seven.
Lily looks up from her drawing. "Is he nice?"
"I don't know anymore."
That night I can't sleep. Keep thinking about the postcard. About Ethan showing up after seven years. About Dominic's voice on the phone saying he knows where we are.
At midnight I pick up my phone. Put it down. Pick it up again.
Call Ethan's number before I can stop myself.
He answers immediately. "Elena?"
Hearing him say that name makes something in my chest crack. "How did you know it was me?"
"Been waiting."
I almost hang up. My thumb hovers over the button.
"Don't," he says. "Please."
"I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I called."
"That's okay."
We sit in silence. I can hear him breathing. Can hear traffic in the background like he's near a window.
"Tomorrow," I finally say. "At the park. I need you to tell me everything. Not just about Kira. About us. About what you remember."
"Okay."
"And Ethan? If you're lying. If this is some game Dominic is playing. If you're working with him."
"I'm not."
"How do I know that?"
"You don't. You have to trust your gut."
My gut. Right. The thing Dominic spent five years teaching me not to trust.
"Two o'clock."
"I'll be there."
I hang up. Stare at the ceiling until dawn.
The next day drags. I'm useless at the bakery. Burn two batches of scones. Give the wrong change to three different customers. Mrs. Patterson keeps giving me worried looks but doesn't ask questions.
At one thirty I close early. Pick up Lily from after school program. She chatters about her day, something about art class and how they got to use the good markers, but I'm only half listening.
Riverside Park is ten minutes away. Small playground, some benches, a basketball court. Usually full of kids and moms and teenagers skipping class.
Today it's almost empty. Too cold. November wind off the river cuts through my jacket.
I sit on a bench near the swings. Lily runs to the slide. I watch her climb, slide down, climb again. Normal kid doing normal things.
Except she keeps glancing back at me. Checking.
Ethan appears at two exactly. Jeans. Blue jacket. Hands in pockets. He looks nervous.
"Hi."
"Hi."
He sits on the other end of the bench. Leaves space between us. Smart.
For a while we just sit there. Watching Lily. Not talking.
"You wanted to know everything," Ethan finally says. "Where should I start?"
"The beginning. When you left for MIT."
He nods. Pulls out his phone. "I kept them. All of them. In case I ever found you."
"Kept what?"
He turns the screen toward me. Text messages. Dozens of them. All to a number I don't recognize. All from seven years ago.
Elena, I'm here. Made it to campus. Miss you already.
Called your cell. Says disconnected. Did you change numbers?
Elena please call me. I'm worried.
Your mom won't tell me where you are. What's going on?
On and on. Getting more desperate. More confused.
I scroll through them. My hands are shaking. "I never got these."
"I know."
"My phone wasn't disconnected. I had the same number until, until I left Dominic."
"Did you? Or did he tell you that?"
I try to remember. Can't. Just another gap.
"I came home in October," Ethan says. "Drove six hours because I was going crazy not hearing from you. Went to your house. Your mom answered. She looked, I don't know. Scared? Said you'd moved out. Wouldn't say where. Wouldn't let me in."
My mom. I haven't talked to her in five years. She believed Dominic's version. That I was unstable. That I'd abandoned my family. That I'd kidnapped Lily.
"I asked around," Ethan continues. "Friends from school. Teachers. No one knew where you were. Or they weren't saying. Finally someone, I think it was Sarah from your English class, she told me you'd gotten married. To Dominic Ashford."
The name sits between us like something rotting.
"I didn't believe it. You hated him. Remember? He was that senior who followed you around. Made you uncomfortable. You told me once he gave you creepy vibes."
I do remember that. Vaguely. Dominic in the hallways. Always there. Always watching.
"But I drove to Ashford anyway. Found his house. This huge place on the hill. Went to the door." He stops. Looks at Lily on the swings. "You answered."
"What did I say?"
"Nothing. You just stood there. You'd lost weight. Looked sick. I tried to talk to you but you wouldn't respond. Then Dominic came. He was so polite. Asked if he could help me. I said I needed to talk to you. He said you weren't feeling well. That you'd been having a hard time. That your therapist recommended limiting contact with people from your past."
My stomach twists. "I never saw a therapist."
"Are you sure?"
Am I? I try to remember. There are appointments. Offices. Someone asking questions. But the details are fuzzy.
"He asked me to leave," Ethan says. "For your sake. Said I was making things worse. And I left. Like a coward. I left."
"You were eighteen."
"Old enough to know something was wrong."
We sit in silence. Lily has moved to the monkey bars. Hanging upside down. Her jacket is riding up and I can see her belly. Too thin. I need to make her eat more.
"After you left," I say slowly, "Dominic showed me things. Photos of you with some girl. Pretty. Blonde. You had your arm around her. He said you'd moved on. That college was more important than some high school romance."
"I never, " Ethan starts, then stops. "Do you still have the photos?"
"No. I don't know. Maybe. I have boxes I've never unpacked. Things from before."
"If you find them, look at them closely. I guarantee they're fake. Photoshopped. It's not hard."
Maybe. But they looked real. Felt real.
"There was a letter too. You supposedly wrote it. Explaining why you couldn't be with me anymore. How you needed to focus on your future."
"I never wrote that."
"It was your handwriting."
"Was it? Or did it just look like my handwriting?"
I don't know. Can't trust my own memories. Can't trust anything.
Lily runs over. Face flushed. "Mama, did you see? I went all the way across without stopping."
"I saw. You were so brave."
She looks at Ethan. Studies him. "You're the man from yesterday."
"That's right."
"Are you Mama's boyfriend?"
"Lily." My face goes hot. "That's not, we're not."
"We're old friends," Ethan says. He's trying not to smile.
"Oh. Okay." She accepts this and runs back to the playground.
"She's great," Ethan says.
"Yeah."
"Looks like you."
"Poor kid."
"That's not what I meant."
I know. But I can't accept compliments. Can't believe them. Dominic trained that out of me pretty thoroughly.
Ethan pulls out the postcard. Sets it on the bench. I pull out mine. We lay them side by side.
Same harbor. Same handwriting. Different words.
"Why different messages?" I ask.
"Maybe she wants us to compare them. To make sure we go together."
"Or maybe someone's setting a trap."
"Who?"
I look at him. "You really have to ask?"
Ethan's jaw tightens. "If Dominic sent these, why? What does he gain?"
"Getting me back to Ashford. On his territory. Where he controls everything."
"Maybe. Or maybe Kira really is alive and she's trying to tell us something."
The idea is too big. Too impossible. "People don't just fake their deaths."
"People in danger do."
A jogger passes. Woman with a stroller. Normal people doing normal things while my world splinters.
"Tell me about that night," I say. "The night she died."
Ethan looks away. "You sure?"
"Yes."
He takes a breath. Lets it out. "I was supposed to meet you both at ten. The Marina. But my dad had a health thing. Thought it was a heart attack. Turned out to be anxiety but I didn't know that. By the time I got to the hospital and got him settled and drove to Ashford, it was past eleven."
He stops. I wait.
"There were police cars everywhere. Ambulance. I parked on the street and ran toward the water. They were pulling her out. Kira." His voice breaks slightly. "They did CPR but she was already gone. I could tell. Her lips were blue."
I can see it. Almost. Like a memory that's not quite mine.
"Where was I?"
"On the pier. Dominic had his coat around you. You were soaking wet. Shaking. Saying things."
"What things?"
"That you killed her. That it was your fault. Over and over."
My hands have gone numb. "What else?"
"Dominic told the police you'd been drinking. That you and Kira fought about me. That she fell in and you tried to save her but couldn't."
"Was I drunk?"
Ethan looks at me. Really looks at me. "No."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen you drunk. That wasn't it. Your pupils were wrong. Your words were slurred but chemical, not alcohol. And the way Dominic held you. It wasn't comfort. It was control."
The bench is hard under me. The sky is too bright. Everything is too much.
"I told the police something was wrong. They blew me off. Dominic was very convincing. Very concerned. And I was just some kid."
Lily is climbing the slide backwards. Going to fall and break her arm and I should stop her but I can't move.
"What do you remember?" Ethan asks.
"Nothing. I remember being home that day. Making dinner. Planning to meet Kira. Then blank. I woke up the next morning in bed and Dominic told me what happened."
"You don't remember the Marina at all?"
"No."
"Do you remember getting wet?"
"No."
"Do you remember being cold?"
"No."
He's quiet for a long moment. "Elena. What if you weren't just drugged? What if you were unconscious? What if everything Dominic told you happened is a lie?"
The world tilts.
"Are you saying he killed her?"
"I'm saying something was very wrong. And I think maybe you were meant to die too."
I stand up. Too fast. The park spins. "I need to, I can't."
"Elena."
"Don't call me that."
"Mara. I'm sorry. But if there's a chance Kira is alive. If there's a chance to find out what really happened."
"I have a daughter. I can't put her at risk."
"I know. I'm not asking you to decide now."
But he is. That's exactly what he's asking.
Lily runs over. "Mama, can we get ice cream?"
"It's November."
"So?"
"So it's cold."
"Ice cream is good when it's cold."
Six year old logic. Can't argue with it.
We walk to the parking lot. Lily skips ahead, singing something from school. Ethan and I follow at a distance.
"I can't go to Ashford," I say finally. "I can't face him there."
"What if I go? Check out the room. Report back."
"He'll know. He always knows."
We reach my car. I unlock it. Lily climbs in and starts buckling herself.
"Can I ask you something?" I turn to Ethan.
"Anything."
"That night. When you found me on the pier. Was I, did I see it happen? Did I watch her go in?"
Ethan's face drains of color. Actually drains. Like someone pulled a plug.
"What?"
"You were soaking wet. Your clothes were drenched. Screaming that you killed her."
"So I jumped in after her."
"Maybe. But there was something else. Something I didn't think about until later. You had a cut on your forehead. Bruise forming on your jaw."
My hand goes to my jaw automatically. Like I can still feel it.
"Someone hit you," Ethan says quietly. "And I don't think you jumped in the water to save Kira. I think someone put you there."
The parking lot pavement is cracking under my feet. The whole world is cracking.
"I have to go."
"Mara, wait."
I get in the car. Start the engine. He knocks on my window. I roll it down.
"If Dominic did this. If he killed her and made you think it was your fault. Don't you want to know?"
Yes. God yes.
But knowing comes with a price.
I drive away without answering.
That night I dream of water. Of being under. Of hands around my throat. Of Kira's face next to mine, eyes wide, both of us drowning.
I wake up gasping.
And I remember.
Not everything. Just a fragment. A flash.
Being underwater. The pressure. The burning in my lungs.
And Dominic's face above the surface. Watching.
I sit up in bed, heart hammering.
If I was underwater, if I was drowning, then I didn't stand on that pier doing nothing.
I was in the water with Kira.
Which means Ethan is right.
Dominic put me there.
And maybe, maybe Kira didn't die at all.