Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTX573S5PRN4KFRJZ83Z2KW

The green neon glow of the raven sign cut through the London fog, casting an ethereal light on the wet pavement. Inside The Raven's Nest, the air hung thick with the scent of aged whiskey and wood polish. Black-and-white photographs of forgotten conflicts and yellowed maps of continents redrawn by history adorned the walls, their corners curling with time. Aurora Carter traced the crescent-shaped scar on her left wrist, her bright blue eyes fixed on the amber liquid in her glass. The ice cubes clinked as she swirled them, the sound echoing in the quiet afternoon bar. 'Another?' Silas Blackwood leaned against the polished mahogany, his silver signet ring catching the low light as he gestured to her nearly empty glass. The grey streaks in his auburn hair seemed more prominent today, framing a face that had seen more secrets than most would ever know. 'I should get going. Yu-Fei needs me back by six for the dinner rush.' 'Delivery work waits for no one, eh?' 'Exactly.' Rory smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. 'Though I doubt anyone would complain if their crispy duck was a few minutes late.' Silas poured a measure of whiskey into her glass anyway, the liquid flowing in a steady stream. 'One more. On the house.' 'I'm not going to win this argument, am I?' 'Rarely do where alcohol is concerned.' His limp was barely noticeable as he moved down the bar to serve a new customer, his presence commanding even in the empty room. The bell above the door chimed, a sharp sound that made Rory turn. A woman stood in the doorway, shaking rain from her designer coat. Her blonde hair was cut into an asymmetrical bob, a stark contrast to the wild curls Rory remembered. Her clothes screamed money - tailored and impractical. 'Welcome to The Raven's Nest,' Silas called out. 'What can I get you?' The woman approached the bar, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Her gaze swept the room, lingering on the maps, the photographs, the shadows in the corners. Then it landed on Rory. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by something else - surprise, perhaps, or embarrassment. 'Rory? Aurora Carter?' Rory straightened, her fingers tightening around her glass. 'Eva?' The years had carved new lines around Eva's eyes, but her voice remained the same - precise, clipped, carrying the weight of private education and unspoken expectations. 'God, it's been what, five years? Six?' 'Something like that.' Rory took a sip of her whiskey, the burn familiar and comforting. 'What brings you to Soho?' 'Business meeting nearby.' Eva slid onto the stool next to Rory, removing her gloves finger by finger. 'I didn't expect to find you here. Last I heard, you were still in Cardiff.' 'People move.' 'So they do.' Eva signaled to Silas. 'Gin and tonic, please. With a lime.' Silas nodded, already reaching for the gin bottle. His eyes met Rory's for a fraction of a second, a question in them. 'Eva and I go way back,' Rory explained, though her explanation was unnecessary. Silas understood more than he let on. 'Since we were seven,' Eva added. 'Remember when we tried to run away to London?' 'I remember we made it to the end of the street before your mother found us.' 'And she made pink lemonade and told us London would always be there tomorrow.' Eva laughed, but the sound was hollow. 'She was right, I suppose.' Silas placed the drink in front of Eva, his movements economical and precise. 'On the house for friends of Rory.' 'Thank you.' Eva took a sip, her eyes never leaving Rory's face. 'You look different.' 'Do I?' 'Not bad different. Just... settled. More yourself, maybe.' Eva touched her own blonde bob. 'Unlike me, apparently.' 'Change isn't bad.' 'No, but some changes are more permanent than others.' Eva's gaze drifted to the photograph above the bar - a faded image of men in military uniforms standing before a Prague street scene. 'You still in touch with anyone from university?' 'Not really.' 'Me neither. Well, except for Robert from law school, but that's business.' Eva swirled her glass, the ice cubes clicking against the sides. 'I heard about Evan.' Rory's hand instinctively went to her wrist, fingers finding the crescent scar. 'Word travels fast.' 'Cardiff is a small city.' 'And your family is well-connected.' Eva set down her glass with a soft thud. 'I called. After it happened. Your mother told me you'd left.' 'I needed space.' 'I understand.' Eva's voice softened. 'I just wish you'd called me.' 'I couldn't face anyone.' 'Not even me?' Eva's eyes held a hurt that had been buried for years. 'After everything?' The silence stretched between them, filled with all the words they hadn't said, all the messages that had gone unanswered. Silas moved to the other end of the bar, giving them privacy that was both necessary and suffocating. 'I'm sorry.' The words tasted foreign in Rory's mouth. 'You were right about London, though. About everything.' 'Being right isn't as satisfying as people think.' Eva finished her drink. 'I should go. My meeting.' 'Of course.' Eva stood, adjusting her coat. 'Maybe we could—' 'I'm here most evenings,' Rory interrupted. 'After work.' 'Good.' Eva smiled, a genuine expression that transformed her face. 'It was good to see you, Rory.' 'You too.' Eva left as abruptly as she had arrived, the bell above the door chiming her exit. Rory stared at the empty stool beside her, at the condensation ring on the bar where Eva's glass had been. 'Someone from your past?' Silas asked, returning to her end of the bar. 'My oldest friend,' Rory replied. 'Before everything changed.' 'Time does that. Changes people.' 'Some more than others.' Rory finished her whiskey in one gulp. 'I'll take that delivery job now.'