Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMDYNY1YB9PNAQQHGVH5N9

The green neon sign above the entrance flickered, casting an eerie glow over the old cobblestone street. Aurora Carter, known to her friends as Rory, pushed open the heavy wooden door of The Raven's Nest and stepped inside. The dimly lit interior was a welcome respite from the brisk London evening. She scanned the room, her bright blue eyes adjusting to the gloom. "Rory! It's been too long!" The familiar baritone voice belongs to Silas Blackwood, the bar's proprietor and a man she once trusted more than anyone else in this world. He looked like he'd aged a decade in the five years since she'd seen him last, his auburn hair now streaked with grey, matching the neatly trimmed beard that framed hisaquiline nose and firm jaw. His hazel eyes still carried that same intensity though, which used to make her feel like he could see right through her. Rory forced a smile as she approached the bar, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. "Silas. It's good to see you." The words felt hollow, inadequate. She wanted to say more, to ask why he'd left without a word, why he'd abandoned her when she needed him most. Silas must have sensed the tension because he quickly changed the subject. "What brings you back to London?" Before Rory could answer, the door swung open again, letting in a blast of cold air and a man Rory had never seen before. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a shock of black hair falling into his eyes. He scanned the room with a practiced ease, his gaze lingering on Rory for just a moment before he slid into a booth in the corner. Silas watched him too, his expression unreadable. Finally, he turned back to Rory with a sigh. "That's Idiris Mal. He's been asking about you." Rory's heart skipped a beat. "About me? Why?" "He didn't say." Silas frowned, his gaze shifting back to the man in the corner. "I don't like it. There's something not right about him." Rory glanced over her shoulder, studying the stranger with a newfound curiosity. He was watching her now, his eyes dark and inscrutable in the dim light. She quickly looked away, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Silas leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Listen, Rory, I know we have a lot to catch up on, but I need to talk to you about something important. It's about your mother." That got Rory's attention. She'd been so focused on the strange man, on trying to keep her composure in front of Silas, that she'd almost forgotten why she'd come back to London in the first place. "What about her?" Silas glanced around the bar, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. "She's in trouble, Rory. Serious trouble. I've been trying to help her, but she's in over her head." Rory's mind raced as she processed this information. Her mother had always been secretive, always keeping her at arm's length, but Rory had never imagined she could be mixed up in something dangerous. "What kind of trouble?" Silas hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell her. "It's complicated, but let's just say she made some enemies in some very high places." He paused, his gaze intense. "I need you to do something for me, Rory. I need you to go see her, talk to her. She won't listen to me, but she might listen to you." Rory stared at him, trying to understand what he was asking of her. She hadn't seen her mother in years, not since the day she'd walked away from everything and everyone she'd ever known. The thought of facing her now, after so much time had passed, filled her with a deep sense of dread. Silas must have seen the hesitation in her eyes because he placed a hand on hers, his touch gentle but insistent. "I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, Rory. Please. Your mother needs you." Rory took a deep breath, letting the warmth of Silas's hand seep into her skin. She knew he wouldn't have asked unless it was truly necessary. And despite everything, despite the years of silence and secrets, she knew she couldn't turn her back on her mother now. "Okay," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "I'll do it. I'll go see her." Silas sighed with relief, his shoulders sagging as if a weight had been lifted from them. "Thank you, Rory. You have no idea how much I appreciate this." He started to say more, but the door opened again, letting in another blast of cold air. This time, a woman entered, her long red hair catching the light from the flickering neon sign above the door. She scanned the room with a practiced ease, her gaze landing on Rory with a jolt of recognition. Rory felt the blood drain from her face as she stared at the woman she'd once considered her best friend. Eva. The girl she'd left behind without a second thought, the girl she'd promised to never forget. Eva approached the bar slowly, her steps unsteady as if she were seeing a ghost. She stopped in front of Rory, her green eyes wide with shock. "Aurora? Is it really you?" Before Rory could answer, Silas stepped in, his voice smooth and assured. "Eva, I think you two need some time alone. Why don't you take a seat in the back, catch up properly?" Eva glanced at him, her expression unreadable. Then she turned back to Rory, holding her gaze with an intensity that made Rory's heart race. "Please? I just want to talk." Rory hesitated, her mind spinning with memories she'd tried so hard to forget. But in the end, she nodded, allowing Eva to lead her to a secluded booth in the back of the bar. They slid into the leather seats, the years melting away as they faced each other across the scarred wooden table. Rory couldn't help but stare at her old friend, seeing the changes time had wrought on her once-familiar face. Eva had always been beautiful, with creamy skin and a mass of unruly red hair, but now she looked tired, worn down by life. There were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there before, and a sadness in her expression that made Rory's heart ache. "How have you been?" Eva asked softly, her voice barely audible over the buzz of conversation from the other patrons. Rory hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could she possibly explain the last five years, the choices she'd made, the things she'd seen? "It's been a long time, Eva. A lot has changed." Eva nodded, her gaze drifting to the scar on Rory's left wrist. "I can see that. But some things never do, do they?" Rory looked down at the crescent-shaped mark, a relic from another life. She remembered the day she'd gotten it, remembered the sharp pain and the warm blood trickling down her arm. She remembered how Eva had held her hand, pressing a clean cloth to the wound as they waited for Rory's father to come home and take her to the hospital. "No," she said softly. "Some things never change." They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the past settling over them like a heavy blanket. Then Eva reached across the table, taking Rory's hand in her own. Her touch was warm, familiar, and for a moment, Rory felt like she was home again. "I've missed you, Rory. Every day, I've missed you." Tears pricked at the corners of Rory's eyes as she squeezed Eva's hand, feeling the same warmth and familiarity in return. She knew she should say something, should tell Eva how much she'd missed her too, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she just sat there, letting the silence stretch out between them until it became unbearable. Finally, Rory stood up, pulling her hand free from Eva's grasp. "I have to go," she said quietly, not meeting Eva's gaze. "I have something I need to do." Eva nodded, her expression resigned. "Of course. You always had somewhere else to be." Rory winced at the bitterness in her voice, hating herself for causing it. But she knew there was nothing she could do now, no way to make up for the past. So she just turned and walked away, leaving Eva alone in the booth, just like she had all those years ago. As she stepped out into the cool London evening, Rory couldn't help but feel the weight of the past pressing down on her. She knew she had a long road ahead of her, knew that facing her mother would be one of the hardest things she'd ever done. But as she thought of Silas's words, of his plea for help, she knew she couldn't turn back now. She had to see this through, no matter the cost. She owed it to her mother, to Silas, to herself. So she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath of the crisp night air, and started walking, ready to face whatever the future might bring.