When the Past Knocks
The next evening in Rosewood felt heavier than the last.
Rosewood had always felt like a town that slept early.
By nightfall, lights dimmed behind lace curtains, doors clicked shut, and the streets fell into a hush broken only by the occasional passing car or the rustle of leaves. Audrey usually found comfort in that quiet. Tonight, it made her uneasy.
She stood by the kitchen sink at Mrs. Edith's house, drying her hands slowly, her thoughts far away. All evening, she had felt it again—that strange sensation of being pulled backward, as though something unfinished was tugging at her spine.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, dear," Mrs. Edith said gently from the table. "Penny for your thoughts?"
Audrey forced a smile. "Just tired, I think."
Alex looked up from his seat. His gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary, as if he could see through the words she didn't say. "You didn't sleep much last night."
She blinked, surprised. "How did you know?"
"You came downstairs for water around two," he replied calmly. "I was still up."
Mrs. Edith raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Later, Audrey stepped outside to get some air. The porch creaked softly beneath her feet as she wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself. The street was quiet—too quiet. A single car sat parked a little distance away, its engine off, lights dark.
Her stomach tightened.
She told herself she was imagining things.
Behind the wheel, Brian watched her silhouette under the porch light. Seeing her again stirred something ugly inside him—anger, longing, entitlement. She looked softer somehow, calmer. It infuriated him.
"You don't get to be happy," he muttered.
He was just about to step out when a shadow moved behind her.
Alex.
Brian froze as Alex joined her on the porch, standing slightly in front of Audrey without even realizing it. The way Alex's body angled protectively made Brian's jaw tighten.
"Let's go inside," Alex said quietly.
Audrey turned to him. "Why?"
Alex didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked briefly down the street—straight toward Brian's car. Their gazes met.
Just for a second.
It was enough.
Alex's expression hardened.
Inside the house, Audrey paced her room, heart racing. "Alex," she said when he followed her in, "what's going on?"
He hesitated. This time, the silence stretched too long.
"There's someone in Rosewood you didn't expect to see again," he finally said.
Her breath caught. "Brian."
Alex nodded once.
The name hit her like a blow. Her chest tightened, memories crashing in all at once—humiliation, betrayal, pain she had barely begun to heal from.
"How do you know?" she whispered.
"Because he's been asking questions," Alex replied. "And because I've been watching him watch you."
Fear flickered across her face, quickly followed by anger. "I left to escape him."
"I know," Alex said softly. "And I won't let him hurt you again."
The conviction in his voice made her look at him differently. Not just as a friend. Not just as comfort. But as someone who stood between her and the darkness without hesitation.
Miles away, Alison sat on her bed, staring at her phone. Brian wasn't answering her calls anymore. Panic crawled up her spine. She hadn't planned for this—for obsession, for consequences.
She had wanted Audrey broken. Not hunted.
Back in Rosewood, Alex stood watch by the window long after Audrey fell asleep, his reflection staring back at him in the glass. He had crossed lines before. Broken rules. Protected people who couldn't protect themselves.
And he would do it again.
Because some
pasts didn't stay buried.
They knocked.