Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPC6MZSGXHH8FCZRRAB3KZ

Aurora Carter leaned against the bar of The Raven's Nest, tapping a finger against the worn, mahogany surface. Her straight black hair fell across her face, partially obscuring her bright blue eyes as she glanced at the green neon sign outside, casting a surreal glow on the cobblestone street of Soho. She decided she'd been on her feet long enough today, making deliveries across the city for Yu-Fei Cheung's Golden Empress restaurant. Her wrist throbbed faintly, a ghostly reminder from childhood marked by the crescent-shaped scar. Silas Blackwood, the bar's owner, moved with deliberation, his slight limp barely noticeable as he made his way over. His hazel eyes appeared to see through the dim light as he greeted her. "Rory, surprised to see you settling down here tonight," he said, his neatly trimmed beard catching the soft light emanating from the old maps and black-and-white photographs that covered the walls. "Needed a change of scenery," she replied, her voice even, concealing the weariness of a day fraught with memories. She took a sip of her drink, some local gin with a splash of tonic, feeling the cool liquid wash down the lingering heat of her rush-hour deliveries. The bar door creaked open behind her, and she turned slightly to see who had entered. Silas, standing behind the bar, served another regular before glancing toward the new arrival. Aurora’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized the man who had just stepped in. Evan. Her ex-boyfriend stood just inside the entrance, looking around the bar as though he were searching for someone. The years had changed him. His once-clean-shaven face was rough with a beard, his dark hair longer and pulled back into a messy ponytail. But despite the changes, those deep green eyes were unmistakable. She quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn't recognize her. "What's wrong?" Silas asked softly, noticing her sudden tenseness. "Nothing," she murmured, avoiding his gaze. Her fingers traced the edge of her glass, the cold condensation blending with the cool sweat forming on her palm. Aurora could barely hear the muted conversation over the hum of the bar. However, Evan had already seen her. His steps, heavy against the wooden floor, grew closer until he was just a few feet away, cleared throat signaling his presence. "Rory?" The name hung in the air between them, a fragile link to the past. She turned slowly to face him, her expression schooled into neutrality. "Evan." Her voice was clipped, almost robotic, as if uttering his name might drag up a flood of memories she had no intention of revisiting. Silas, ever the perceptive host, sensed the intrusion and offered a refuge. "I've got to check on something in the back. Give me a shout if you need anything, Rory," he said before he discreetly took his leave, heading towards the hidden back room. Evan took Silas's vacated spot at the bar, sitting on the stool next to her. The silence stretched out, pregnant with unresolved tension. "It's been a while," Evan finally said, his tone softer than she remembered, lacking the sharp edge it once had. "Yeah. Years," Aurora replied curtly. She sipped her drink, keeping her gaze fixed on the counter in front of her. They both knew the weight of unspoken apologies, of regret, of words that had never been uttered. The bar, with its dim lighting and nostalgic décor, might have been the stage for some bygone era, a setting too timeless to bear witness to such a contemporary web of fractured relationships. "Do you want to talk, Rory? Just for a little while?" Evan’s voice was tentative, almost hopeful. Against her better judgment, Aurora sighed and nodded. "Fine. Talk." Evan looked visibly relieved. "How have you been?" "Doing alright," she said curtly. "Working at the Golden Empress. Deliveries mostly." "I heard. I've... asked about you," Evan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and he looked sincere enough. It still didn’t explain why it took him years to show any sign of remorse. "And what about you, Evan? What are you doing now?" "I'm working at a community center not far from here," he said. "Trying to do some good, I guess. You look... different. You seem stronger." Silas emerged from the back room just then, casting a brief glance at Aurora before returning to serving other patrons. The quiet bar chatter seemed almost invasive in the silence that had built up between Aurora and Evan. "People change," Aurora said coolly. "I've changed too, Rory. I'm not that person anymore." "That's nice to know," she said, her sarcasm barely veiled. "But you being a better person now doesn’t erase the old you." Evan swallowed hard. "I know. I just... I just want to say I'm sorry. For everything." Aurora closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. The apology, as sincere as it sounded, couldn't just erase the nights she spent crying, feeling completely broken after all the subtle manipulations and less-than-subtle explosions of anger. "I’m not looking for apologies, Evan," she said finally, opening her eyes. "I just want to move on. I've built a life here, without you. And it's a life I'm proud of." Evan nodded slowly, accepting her words. "I understand. And I respect that. I really do." Aurora stood up, ready to leave the conversation behind. "Enjoy your drink, Evan. It was... good to see you." He stood up too, but made no move to stop her. "You too, Rory. Take care." She walked towards the exit, head held high, feeling the eyes of Silas on her as she passed him. As she stepped out into the cool night, the green neon sign of The Raven’s Nest casting an eerie glow over her, she felt something lift off her shoulders. She'd faced a demon from her past tonight, and while it hadn’t exorcised every old ghost, it was a step. From behind the bar, Silas watched her go, a small, approving nod showing his silent support. Aurora would be alright. She had learned to be her own refuge. As she disappeared into the night, the bar door closing softly behind her, a feeling of bittersweet resolve settled over her. Life would go on, and she would keep moving forward—one step at a time.