Run: 2026-02-20-01KHXQDJJMBN4B1Y2JPVQZ83GM

The Raven’s Nest hummed with the low murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter that rose and fell like a tide. Rory wiped her hands on her apron, balancing a tray of empty pint glasses against her hip as she weaved through the crowd. The green neon sign outside cast a sickly glow over the faces of the patrons, turning them into shifting shadows. She didn’t see him at first. Not until she turned, tray tucked under her arm, and nearly collided with a man leaning against the bar. His auburn hair was streaked with grey now, the lines around his eyes deeper, but the signet ring on his right hand caught the light just the same. Silas. His gaze flicked up, hazel eyes locking onto hers. A beat of silence stretched between them, thick as the smoke curling from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. "You’re still here," he said. Rory set the tray down with a clatter. "Where else would I be?" Silas exhaled a slow stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the air. "Last I heard, you were halfway to Paris with that girl—what was her name? Eva?" "Things change." She wiped her hands on her apron again, though they weren’t wet. "You look like hell." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "And you look like you haven’t slept in a year." She bristled. "I sleep fine." "Do you?" The question hung there, heavy. Rory turned away, busying herself with the glasses. "What are you doing here, Silas? Thought you’d be off in some safe house, counting your secrets." "I own the place, remember?" She stilled. Of course. The Raven’s Nest had always been his. She’d just never thought he’d actually stick around. Silas stubbed out his cigarette. "You’re working here now?" "Part-time. Yu-Fei needed someone for deliveries, and I needed the cash." She shrugged. "It’s not exactly the legal career your old man wanted for you, is it?" His jaw tightened. "Brendan’s not here to care anymore." Rory flinched. She hadn’t known. Hadn’t even thought to ask. Silas must have seen it on her face. "Cancer. Two years back." "I’m sorry." He waved a hand, as if brushing away the words. "You didn’t know." No, she hadn’t. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? The years had slipped by, and she’d let them. Let people fade. Let herself fade. Silas leaned in, voice dropping. "You ever think about how things might’ve been different?" Rory’s fingers curled around the edge of the bar. "All the time." A silence settled between them, not uncomfortable, but heavy. The kind that came with things left unsaid. "You ever hear from Evan?" Silas asked. The name hit like a punch. Rory’s breath caught. "No. And I don’t want to." Silas studied her, his gaze too sharp, too knowing. "You’re lying." She turned away, busying herself with the glasses again. "What do you want from me, Silas?" "The truth." Rory laughed, sharp and bitter. "The truth? The truth is I ran. From him, from Cardiff, from everything. And I don’t regret it." Silas didn’t blink. "Then why do you jump every time the door opens?" Her hands stilled. The glasses clinked softly as she set them down. Silas leaned back, satisfied. "That’s what I thought." Rory exhaled, long and slow. "It’s not that simple." "Nothing ever is." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a fresh cigarette. "You ever think about leaving again?" She hesitated. "Sometimes." "Then do it." He lit the cigarette, the flame flickering in his eyes. "Before it’s too late." Rory looked at him, really looked at him. The grey in his hair, the lines on his face, the way he held himself like a man who’d spent a lifetime waiting for something that never came. She’d known him when he was younger. When he still believed in things. "What about you?" she asked. "You ever think about getting out of this place?" Silas took a drag, exhaled. "This place is all I’ve got left." Rory wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him he deserved more. But the words stuck in her throat. Because she knew what it was like to feel trapped. Silas flicked ash into the tray. "You ever wonder if we just got too good at running?" Rory didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The door to the bar swung open, letting in a gust of cold air. Rory didn’t jump this time. But she did watch it, just for a second, before turning back to Silas. He was watching her too. Neither of them said a word.