Run: 2026-02-17-01KHNFNVS68GEZ15KHTHHCHR75

The Raven's Nest was a dim cocoon of amber light and worn wood, the kind of place that had seen too many secrets to keep count. Rory pushed through the door, the familiar green neon sign buzzing overhead like a trapped insect. The air smelled of whiskey and old books, and she could already feel the knots in her shoulders beginning to loosen. It was late, but not late enough that the bar had filled with the usual Friday night crowd. Just a few scattered patrons hunched over their drinks, and Silas behind the bar, polishing glasses with the same methodical precision he'd always had. She slid onto a stool, the vinyl creaking beneath her. Silas looked up, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. "Evening, Rory. The usual?" "Please." She watched as he poured the bourbon, his hands steady despite the slight limp in his left leg. The silver signet ring on his right hand caught the light as he slid the glass toward her. "Quiet night," she observed, taking a sip. The bourbon burned pleasantly down her throat. "Until now." Silas leaned against the bar, his grey-streaked auburn hair catching the light. "You look tired." "Long day." She shrugged. "Deliveries, then class. You know how it is." "I do." He nodded toward the stack of law textbooks peeking out of her bag. "Still chasing that degree?" "Reluctantly." She smiled wryly. "Dad would have a fit if I quit." "Your father always did have strong opinions about education." Silas' expression softened. "How is Brendan these days?" "The same. Still thinks I should have followed him into law." Rory swirled the bourbon in her glass. "Sometimes I wonder if he's right." "Following in your father's footsteps is one thing. Finding your own path is another." Silas' voice was gentle but firm. "You're doing just fine, Rory." "Thanks, Si." She took another sip, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. "Hey, speaking of paths—do you remember Eva?" Silas' eyebrows lifted slightly. "Your childhood friend? The one who convinced you to move to London?" "Yeah, that's her." Rory hesitated. "I ran into her today. At the restaurant." "Ah." Silas nodded, understanding in his eyes. "How was it?" "Strange." Rory set down her glass. "She's... different. Not bad different, just... changed. We used to be so close, you know? Now it's like there's this whole ocean between us." "People change." Silas' voice was matter-of-fact. "Especially after years apart." "I know." Rory picked at a loose thread on her jacket. "It's just—she's engaged now. To some guy named Liam. And she kept talking about this whole 'grown-up' life she's built. Mortgage, career, the works." "Sounds like she's doing well." "She is." Rory sighed. "And that's great. It really is. But it made me realize how far behind I feel. I'm still delivering Chinese food and studying for exams I'm not even sure I want to take." "Life isn't a race, Rory." Silas' voice was gentle. "Just because Eva's on a different path doesn't mean yours is wrong." "I know that." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar. "But it's hard not to compare sometimes. We used to dream about traveling the world together, opening our own business, all that stuff. Now she's planning a wedding and I'm trying to figure out if I can afford next month's rent." "Dreams change." Silas' fingers drummed lightly on the bar. "What matters is that you're still moving forward. Still trying." "I guess." Rory's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing at the screen. "It's Eva. She wants to meet for coffee tomorrow." "Then you should go." Silas nodded toward the phone. "Old friends are worth keeping, even if the dynamic has shifted." "You're right." She tucked the phone away. "It's just—there's this weight, you know? Like all the years we didn't talk have piled up between us. I don't even know where to start." "Start with honesty." Silas' eyes met hers. "Tell her how you feel. Even if it's messy. Even if it's hard." Rory nodded slowly. "You always did know what to say, Si." "I've had a lot of practice." He smiled faintly. "Now, finish your drink. I'll call you a cab." As she sipped the last of her bourbon, Rory's mind drifted to the scar on her left wrist—that small crescent-shaped reminder of a childhood accident, of scraped knees and fearless adventures with Eva. They'd been inseparable once, two girls with matching friendship bracelets and grand plans for the future. Now, years later, they were strangers bound by memory alone. The bourbon was gone. She set the glass down and stood, shouldering her bag. "Thanks, Si. For the drink and the advice." "Anytime, Rory." He walked her to the door, his limp more pronounced in the low light. "Remember—you're exactly where you need to be." She stepped out into the cool night air, the neon sign buzzing behind her like a promise. The city stretched out before her, vast and unknowable, full of paths not yet taken. And somewhere in that sprawling labyrinth, Eva was waiting. Rory squared her shoulders and started walking, the weight of years and unspoken words settling around her like a familiar coat. Some conversations couldn't be avoided forever. Some friendships deserved a second chance. Even if they'd both changed beyond recognition.