The sky was bruised with stormlight as Tadan stood outside a crumbling apartment block on the east side of town.
He held the old news article in one hand, Elias Vair’s name circled in red. In the other, a slip of paper he found tucked between archived police notes. A location. A note scribbled in shaky handwriting:
"Don’t look for me. If she remembers, I’m already dead."
But Tadan was looking.
He climbed the narrow stairwell. Each creak of the old steps echoed like a countdown. He didn’t know what he’d find—but something told him Elias wasn’t just a memory. And if Danam knew that, Ruha might be in more danger than either of them thought.
The door at the end of the hall was cracked open.
Tadan pushed it gently.
Inside was a dark, cluttered space. Newspaper clippings. Burnt photos. A map with pins and strings—and in the middle, a photo of Ruha.
A voice rasped from the corner. “I told you not to come.”
Tadan turned.
Elias Vair.
Alive.
Barely.
Gaunt, pale, with a burn scar climbing the side of his neck like a twisted vine. His eyes were the same color Ruha had described from her nightmare.
"You’re supposed to be dead," Tadan said.
Elias gave a crooked smile. “Aren’t we all, in some way?”
Back at Ruha’s apartment, she stared at the message Danam had sent.
“You forgot him. But he didn’t forget you.”
Elias.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqTh9FpQTKu
The warehouse.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd8ICU0Nk9a
Her screams.
Suddenly it all slammed back.
Elias had been Danam’s best friend. The three of them had gone to that abandoned place to escape, to drink, to burn off the world. But that night, Danam and Elias argued—loud, dangerous, bitter.
And then there was fire.
And she had tried to stop it.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlIcrVepvvw
Tried to pull someone out—37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAt1OW5GnjZ
But someone had pushed her.
Ruha stumbled back, breath catching.
She hadn’t set the fire. She had witnessed it.
But what if she saw more than she remembered?
“You’re Tadan, right?” Elias’s voice was gravel. “The one she ran to?”
“I’m the one who’s not playing games with her mind,” Tadan snapped.
Elias coughed a laugh. “Good. She needs someone like that.”
“Then help me. Tell me what happened that night.”
Elias looked away. “If I tell her the truth… it’ll break her.”
“She deserves it.”
“She doesn’t deserve him.”
Tadan’s fists clenched. “Danam started the fire, didn’t he?”
Elias’s silence was the only answer he needed.
But then Elias added, quietly, “She saw it. All of it. She just doesn’t know yet.”
That night, Ruha stood at the window, watching the rain smear the city lights.
Her phone buzzed again.
No message. No name.
Just a video.
She hit play.
The footage was grainy, filmed through a crack in a wall. But there were three voices. One was hers. One was Elias’s.
And one was Danam’s—shouting.
"You said she wouldn’t come!"37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8epU4FEMdi
"She wasn’t supposed to see this—"
And then the sound of fire catching.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb7ohf0BvkW
A scream.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzl33z7IApZ
A push.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjPorxXrKNy
Glass shattering.
Then silence.
Ruha’s breath stopped.37Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVGJU3QpalR
Her hand flew to her mouth.
And behind her—
A knock at the door.
ns216.73.216.95da2
and then Add to home screen.