Vivian was numb. Every ounce of fight, of rage, of desperate hope had drained away, leaving her hollow and empty. Her limbs felt detached, impossibly heavy, as if they belonged to someone else entirely. Noah’s arms tightened gently around her, trying to anchor her, but she barely registered the contact. Serena’s face, pale and lifeless beneath the icy sheen, was etched into her vision, haunting her every breath.

  “Please, let’s just… ask her,” Noah whispered urgently, his voice thick with barely restrained panic.

  Vivian remained silent, her eyes vacant, staring blankly at nothing.

  “Promise me, Viv, please,” Noah begged softly. “Promise me you’ll just hear her out.”

  The silence stretched painfully, broken only by Vivian’s ragged breathing.

  “…I’ll hear her out,” she finally murmured, voice hollow and distant.

  Noah slowly helped her rise from the cold basement floor, guiding her gently up the stairs. Every step seemed insurmountable, like moving through thick, cloying tar. Once back in the kitchen, Vivian collapsed into a chair, her eyes fixated on the grain of the wooden table as if it could somehow ground her.

  Martha sat across from her, still bound, her head bowed, silent and resigned.

  “Why?” Vivian’s voice cracked, raw with pain and exhaustion.

  Martha lifted her head, her expression filled with genuine remorse. “…I didn’t want to,” she began, her voice low and weary. She inhaled shakily before continuing. “I was originally investigating Marcus’s death. It led me to a police officer—the man I thought was responsible for everything.”

  She paused, her gaze flickering toward Noah, whose body had gone rigid beside Vivian. “But he knew things about me, things I thought no one else knew. Things I’d buried so deep, not even Noah knew.” Martha swallowed heavily. “Like how I have a son. He’s disabled, in a medical facility. I’ve kept him hidden, protected. But this cop… he knew.”

  Her voice trembled, filled with fear and guilt. “He threatened my son. Said he’d have him tortured, killed, if I didn’t do what he wanted. If I didn’t take out Serena.” Her eyes met Vivian’s, pleading for understanding, for forgiveness she knew would never come. “I am sorry. I know that means nothing, but I am. …she didn’t suffer.”

  Vivian’s eyes hardened, cold fury replacing the numbness. Noah stepped closer, ready to intervene, but Vivian made no move. Her voice, when she spoke again, was ice-cold, detached. “And who is this cop?”

  Martha shook her head, desperation coloring her features. “I can’t tell you. He’s got my son.”

  Noah stepped forward, anguish etched across his face. “Martha, you need to help us. Tell us where your son is. We’ll take him, we’ll hide him. Just tell us who this cop is.”

  Martha hesitated, her face contorted with internal struggle. “Please, just stop this,” she begged weakly. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

  The silence stretched painfully. Noah paced the kitchen, desperately trying to convince Martha. But Vivian remained unmoved, relentless in her silent demand for answers.

  Finally, Martha’s resolve crumbled. “Fine,” she whispered hoarsely. “But first, we have to get my son.”

  They started to leave immediately, urgency spurring them onward. Noah took Martha’s keys, insisting he would drive. Vivian climbed silently into the backseat, Martha beside her, wrists still bound. Noah slipped into the driver’s seat, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it casually beside him.

  Just as Noah was about to start the car, Martha spoke up. “Noah, wait. I forgot my medication. Can you grab it from the house? It’s on my nightstand.”

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  Noah hesitated briefly, suspicion flickering momentarily in his eyes, but then nodded. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered, exiting the vehicle quickly.

  ? An uncomfortable silence filled the car. Vivian stared ahead blankly, the weight of Serena’s death pressing heavily on her.

  “He cares a lot for you,” Martha finally said quietly.

  Vivian said nothing, refusing even to acknowledge her words.

  Martha laughed softly, bitterness dripping from every syllable. “But you two are no good for each other. You’re both… too dead inside.”

  Vivian’s response was immediate, cold as ice. “I don’t give a shit what you think.”

  Martha sighed, resigned, a faint, wry smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t suppose you would.”

  Vivian saw Noah approaching from the house, medication in hand. Martha’s voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Tell Noah I’m very sorry.”

  The strange tone made Vivian turn sharply, brows knitted in confusion. Then she saw it—a small device clenched tightly in Martha’s bound hands.

  There was a quiet, deadly click.

  Vivian’s eyes widened in instant terror, her body reacting before her mind caught up. She bolted from the car, screaming Noah’s name in panic. Noah froze momentarily, confusion giving way to understanding, running toward Vivian.

  The explosion was small but violent, shattering windows and sending flames licking hungrily outward. Vivian felt the force throw her forward, arms suddenly wrapped around her as Noah shielded her from the worst of the blast.

  For a long moment, there was only ringing silence, broken by the crackling flames. Vivian staggered to her feet, heart racing. Noah was beside her, visibly shaken but unharmed.

  Then, without warning, Noah sprinted toward the burning wreckage.

  “Noah! Stop!” Vivian screamed, heart in her throat. “She’s dead!”

  But Noah ignored her, plunging recklessly toward the inferno. Vivian watched helplessly, frozen in horror, until he finally emerged, scorched but determined, frantically smothering flames on something he’d retrieved.

  Vivian approached shakily, fear mingling with confusion. Noah clutched his charred jacket, desperation in his eyes. A wave of suspicion and betrayal hit Vivian like a physical blow.

  She snatched the jacket from him, her voice shaking. “What’s in this, Noah? Why did you risk your life for this? What else are you not telling me?!”

  Noah opened his mouth to explain, but Vivian was past listening. She tore through the smoldering fabric until her hand closed around something familiar, something impossible. Her heart stopped.

  She held it up, staring in disbelief. A bracelet—her bracelet. The uneven knots, unmistakable and painfully familiar.

  “How…why do you have this?” she choked out, shock turning to anger.

  Noah looked stricken, desperate. “Viv, we should go. I’ll explain later.”

  “Why do you have this?!” Vivian screamed, hysteria rising.

  Suddenly, the past and present collided, overwhelming her entirely. Vince’s lifeless body. The man she’d killed. Serena, frozen and gone. Every fragile wall she’d built inside herself fractured at once, memories surging forward in merciless, vivid clarity.

  Blood, hot and sticky on her small, shaking hands. Her mother, collapsed behind the convenience store counter, eyes open yet empty. The teenage robber, frantic, grabbing cash scattered across the floor as her father lay gasping, shirt soaked deep crimson.

  Her trembling fingers closed around the heavy fire extinguisher, and she felt again the brutal jolt as it struck bone and flesh, again, again, and again, until the boy stopped moving. She remembered her father’s pale face, the hand reaching weakly toward her, his fading voice gentle and calming even as blood bubbled from his mouth. “It’s okay, Vivian. They’ll think I did it. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

  Another memory sliced through—a bully from high school, lying battered and bloodied in the park. Serena’s terrified voice as she held Vivian close, whispering, “Viv, what have you done?” Vince’s quiet calm as he cleaned blood from her shaking hands, murmuring softly, “It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

  And then Harbor House. Standing small, frightened, alone. A younger Noah leaning toward her, whispering something foolish just to coax out a shy laugh. Bullies cornering her, and Noah stepping boldly between, absorbing each violent blow intended for her until he finally collapsed, barely conscious. Her own small fingers pressing the awkward, unevenly knotted bracelet into his bloodied palm as paramedics carried him away.

  A cold fury swelled within her, the anguish transforming into something sharper, darker, more deadly.

  Gentle hands, Vivian.

  She saw Serena smiling warmly, heard Vince’s quiet laughter. Her mother playfully teasing her. Her father’s strong embrace.

  But didn’t I do everything right?

  She had. She had studied, laughed, smiled when expected. She didn’t hit things anymore, didn’t lash out at people. She’d made friends. She had been good.

  She had done everything right.

  So why… why was everyone gone?

  Her vision blurred, darkness pressing in at the edges. Her legs buckled beneath the crushing weight of all she’d lost.

  The last fragile piece of her shattered, splintering apart inside.

  Vivian collapsed, consciousness slipping away before she even hit the ground, disappearing into the dark.