Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRJ4417AHVR4KGQ2ZZ07YP

The door to The Raven’s Nest swung open with a familiar jingle, metal catching a sliver of dim yellow light as it clanged shut behind a figure. Aurora Carter paused briefly in the doorway, blinking against the haze of cigarette smoke and muted amber lamps that draped the room. Her black hair caught a flicker of neon, shadows shadowing her bright blue eyes, giving her an almost spectral appearance as she stepped inside. She hadn’t been here in years, not since before the night her hand was sliced by that reckless boy and everything else spiraled out of control. She moved slowly, senses sharpened, memories flickering like static in her mind. The bar was quieter than she remembered, just a handful of patrons clustered in the shadows, lost to their own drinks and secrets. A jukebox played something faint and far away, the bass hum resonating beneath her skin. She found the familiar scent of aged whisky and old leather promising safety, even here. Her eyes swept over the room, settling on the corner where Silas Blackwood always sat. The man looked up from behind the bar, his hazel eyes narrowing before an unmistakable flicker of recognition crossed his face. The lines around his eyes deepened as he pushed off the barstool, older but still calm, still guarded. Aurora hesitated, then made her way over. The space between them shrank with each step, thick with unspoken histories. Silas reached out, one hand resting on the bar’s edge as he looked her over with quiet scrutiny. His voice was gravelly, but smooth with an undercurrent of curiosity. “Rory.” It was the nickname she had long buried, buried beneath years of moving on, of burying herself deep into this new life. She nodded, unable to speak at first, a ghost of a smile flickering. “Silas.” He gestured to the empty stool beside him. “Long time.” She perched on the edge, unconventional for her usual composure. “Too long.” Her voice was softer than she expected. He studied her face, the subtle shift in her expression. “You look different. Changed somehow.” Her gaze dropped onto her hands, fidgeting with the cuff of her jacket. “Life does that,” she said vaguely, then took a steadying breath. “I didn’t mean to run into you like this.” His eyes flicked to her scar, a small crescent on her wrist visible with her sleeve rolled back. “That scar.” She touched it absentmindedly, the memory flickering sharp and bitter. “Thought I’d outlive its story. Guess I was wrong.” Silas looked away briefly, fingers tapping the bar. “People change. That’s what life presses into you.” Aurora nodded again, though her jaw clenched. “Sometimes, it feels like I’m carrying someone else’s history, not my own.” He studied her silently, then reached into his pocket, producing a small glass of amber liquid. “How about a drink?” She shook her head slightly. “No, thanks. I’m not really here to drink.” He let out a low chuckle, dry and regretful. “You’re always such a troublemaker, Rory. Even now.” His eyes darkened briefly, and his voice turned intimate, quiet enough to hide behind the low hum of conversation. “What’s really brought you back?” She hesitated, then let her gaze drift past him, over the photographs on the wall—black and white shots of spies and locations, stories she once knew intimately. “Just passing through. Needed the familiar.” He studied her again, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been on the run since Cardiff. That’s a long way to come for just the comfort of a bar.” Her laugh was short, humorless. “Sometimes, comfort is just a memory. I wanted to see if you’re still around.” “I’m around,” Silas said softly, voice a whisper, “but I don’t think I’m the same anymore. And maybe neither are you.” She looked at him sharply, momentarily caught off guard. "What makes you think that?" He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “You look different. Less of the girl who ran her head into trouble, more of someone who’s learned how to hide it. I can see it in the way you carry yourself. You’re not fleeing anymore. You’ve decided to stand still, even for a moment.” Aurora’s throat tightened. “Maybe I just ran out of places to run.” He nodded, as if that explained everything, but she sensed he knew more. “Ever think about what would’ve happened if you stayed? Tried to make peace with what you left behind?” Her eyes flashed, tinged with something undefinable. “No. I didn’t stay. I ran so I wouldn’t be buried under all that regret.” Silas leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “Regret doesn’t go away. It gets darker. You learn to live with it.” She looked away, the words interior blueprints of her struggle. “Living with it’s the hardest part.” She paused, then spun a little, fixing her gaze on the flickering neon sign outside the window. “I came here for a reason, Silas. I didn’t just want to see an old friend. I need help.” His face didn’t change, but his fingers traced the signet ring on his hand. “Help’s not exactly what I give out easily, Rory.” “I know.” She pressed her fingers against her thigh, trying to find solid ground. “But I’m not asking for much. Just... advice. The kind only you can give.” He studied her deeper now, the lines of his face softening for a moment. “Advice has come at a price.” “I’ve paid enough.” Silas exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. “Whatever’s chasing you—” “It’s not chasing me,” she interrupted quietly. “It’s waiting, and it’s the reason I can’t stay still anymore.” For a beat, Silas looked at her in silence. A flicker of something—concern? Understanding?—crossed his face before he leaned back. “Then we’re both running from shadows,” he finally said, voice low. “And shadows aren’t easy to outrun.” Aurora met his gaze, her voice steady. “It’s not about outrunning. It’s about finding a way to live with them.” The silence between them grew thick with the weight of shared history, unspoken regrets pressing into the space. The door to the bar swung open again, faintly, wind slipping inside, bringing with it a cold breath and the distant, familiar hum of London night. They both turned, the moment suspended, caught between what was and what might never be.