CHAPTER 33: Before the Fire
The door didn't slam.
It closed gently—too gently.
That was what broke her.
Ava stood rooted in the middle of the room, the message still clutched in her hands like it could hold her together. But it couldn't. Nothing could. Not when Eli walked out like that—with the weight of their past hanging between them like smoke refusing to clear.
She sank onto the edge of the couch, dazed. Every breath felt like glass. Her fingers loosened, letting the phone slip to her lap.
And still, she waited.
Waited for the sound of footsteps coming back.
Waited for the door to open.
Waited for him to turn around.
But he didn't.
Instead, the silence wrapped around her, thick and punishing.
It wasn't the silence of anger.
It was the silence of grief.
When her phone buzzed again, she almost didn't check it.
But the screen glowed with an unknown number and a single message:
"Before the fire… ask him what he saw."
Her heart nearly stopped.
She read it again.
Before the fire?
Ask who? Eli?
She stood, the words clawing at her. Her mind raced back to that day—those half-memories flickering at the edge of her mind. The screaming. The flames. A small hand pulling her out. A promise whispered in the dark.
Before the fire.
What had they both forgotten?
She grabbed her coat and ran out the door.
She had to find him.
The wind bit at her face as she reached the street. Eli wasn't far. She spotted him at the edge of the road, hands buried deep in his pockets, head tilted like he was trying not to break in half.
"Eli!"
He turned, slowly.
His expression was unreadable. Hurt. Distant. But not closed.
"I got a message," she said, panting. "It said: Before the fire… ask him what he saw."
His eyes darkened. "Who sent that?"
"I don't know. But… I think it's time we stopped avoiding the past."
He hesitated. Then nodded, once. "Come with me."
He led her to a small, forgotten building at the edge of town. One Ava didn't recognize until she stepped inside—and the smell hit her.
Ash. Wood. Old smoke, buried in walls.
"This is it," Eli said. "The old center. Where it happened."
Her knees almost gave out.
He guided her to a back room.
There, beneath layers of dust and forgotten boxes, was a small, scorched metal cabinet.
He opened it and pulled out a black flash drive.
"I found this after… after they closed the case," he murmured. "It's the security footage. The part they didn't show anyone."
"Why not?"
"Because it shows someone lighting the fire. And it wasn't an accident."
Ava's blood ran cold.
"Eli…"
He met her eyes.
"You want the truth?" he said. "This is where it begins."