Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMFN5M5P77XGXPFJCYAK2S

The dim lights of The Raven's Nest flickered on as Rory Carter pushed open the heavy wooden door, stepping into the familiar embrace of Silas' bar. She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scents of aged whiskey and worn leather. It had been far too long since she'd last found solace within these walls. Glancing around, Rory spotted Silas behind the bar, his grey-streaked auburn hair catching the light as he polished glasses with meticulous care. His eyes meet hers, and a flicker of recognition sparked within their hazel depths. Setting aside his cloth, Silas moved to greet her, his stride measured despite the slight limp in his left leg. "Rory, lass, it's been far too long," he said, his voice warm with genuine affection. "How've you been keeping?" "I'm doing alright, Silas," Rory replied, mustering a smile. "Just trying to stay afloat, you know?" As they settled into a secluded booth, Rory couldn't help but feel the weight of the unsaid. She'd left London so abruptly, without a proper goodbye to those who mattered most. Eva's words echoed in her mind, a painful reminder of their strained friendship. "I heard about what happened with Evan," Silas said gently, as if reading her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Rory." She nodded, her throat tightening. "It's... complicated. I just needed to get away, start fresh." Silas studied her, his keen gaze missing nothing. "You're thinner than I remember. And those shadows under your eyes... Are you taking care of yourself?" Rory shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tracing the condensation on her glass. "I'm managing. The job at the restaurant keeps me busy." A heavy silence fell between them, punctuated by the distant murmur of the bar's patrons. Silas leaned forward, his signet ring glinting as he rested his elbows on the table. "Rory, I know I'm not your father, but I've always considered you like a daughter. I just want what's best for you." A lump formed in her throat as she met his sincere gaze. "I know, Silas. And I appreciate that more than you can imagine." As the night wore on, they shared stories and laughter, reminiscing about old times. But beneath the surface, Rory could sense the undercurrent of unspoken words, the regret that hung heavy between them. It was late when the bar's door swung open, admitting a gust of damp London air. Rory glanced up, her breath catching as her eyes fell upon a figure from her past. "Laila?" the man said, his voice rich with disbelief. "Is that really you?" Rory felt the blood drain from her face as she rose to her feet. "Vincent... I don't believe it." Time seemed to stand still as they stared at each other, the years melting away. Vincent had changed, his once-clean-shaven face now framed by a rugged beard, his hair longer and tousled. "What are you doing here?" Rory asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She could feel Silas' eyes on her, his curiosity piqued. Vincent took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "I'm meeting someone. But I'd much rather catch up with you." Rory's heart pounded in her chest, a storm of emotions swirling within her. She glanced back at Silas, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. "I'm free for a bit," she said, her words feeling thick and clumsy. "We could... grab a coffee or something?" Vincent's smile was warm, genuine. "I'd like that, Laila. It's been too long." As Rory stepped out into the chill of the night, arm in arm with a ghost from her past, she couldn't help but wonder if the wounds of time could ever truly heal.