"You're looking for your brother, huh?" the man said, his voice dripping with malice. "Well, he's safe for now. But not for long. You know, it's funny. I used to think people like you had it all. But look at you now, scrambling to save someone else when you've always been so wrapped up in yourself."
Kara's stomach churned. The words hit too close to home, bringing back the feelings of inadequacy she had tried so hard to bury. But she couldn't let this man—whoever he was—see her weakness.
"What do you want?" Alden asked again, his voice more tense than before.
The man grinned, but there was no humor in it, only cold, unsettling menace. "What I want? You're in no position to be asking questions, Alden. You've got something I want. Something very valuable. And I'll make sure your precious daughter learns the cost of not giving it to me."
Kara's blood ran cold. What could this man possibly be talking about? What did he want from them?
She took a step forward, determined not to show any fear. "What are you talking about? If you've got Ethan, I don't care what you want—just tell me where he is!"
The man chuckled darkly, the sound like nails scraping across a chalkboard. "Patience, dear. You'll learn soon enough. But first, I need to see how far you're willing to go to save him. Let's see if you've learned anything from all this time you've been running away from your past."
Kara's head spun, her thoughts tumbling over each other. What did he mean by that? And then it hit her. She had been running—running from everything she couldn't face, from the mistakes she'd made, from the person she had become. And now, everything was coming to a head.
"I'll do anything to get him back," Kara said, her voice strong despite the trembling in her chest. "Tell me what you want."
The man stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt suffocating. "I think you already know. It's time for you to stop hiding, Kara. Time for you to face the truth. If you want your brother back, you'll have to confront everything you've been avoiding—the people you've hurt, the choices you've made. All of it."
A wave of nausea washed over Kara. She had tried to move past the things she'd done, the mistakes she'd made, but now it seemed like the universe was forcing her to confront them. She felt her body trembling with a mix of fear and frustration.
"I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice strained but defiant. "But if you hurt my brother, I swear to God…"
"You won't do anything," the man interrupted, his voice icy. "You've always been all talk, Kara. And now, you'll see what happens when you don't follow through."
The man turned to leave, but just as he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "I'll be in touch. Don't take too long."
Before Kara could react, he was gone, disappearing into the night as if he had never been there. The house felt emptier now, the silence almost suffocating.
Alden slowly turned to Kara, his face filled with worry and concern. "Do you have any idea who that was? What he meant?"
Kara swallowed hard, the weight of his words crashing down on her. She shook her head, unable to speak for a moment.
"No," she finally whispered. "But I don't think this is just about Ethan. This... this is about everything. Everything I've done. Everything I've tried to hide."
Her father's expression softened, his hand reaching out to gently place it on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this alone, Kara. Whatever he wants, we'll face it together."
But Kara couldn't shake the feeling that something much darker was at play.
As the door slammed shut behind them, a chilling realization dawned on her: This wasn't just about Ethan.
Kara sank onto the edge of Ethan's empty bed, the rough quilt twisting beneath her. Her fingers traced the indentation where he'd slept, as though she could summon him back with the memory of his weight against the mattress. Alden's footsteps in the hallway told her he was there, waiting—hesitant, worried.
"I found this," Alden said quietly, holding out a folded piece of paper. Kara took it with trembling hands. It was Ethan's handwriting, messy and small:
Kara,I'm sorry I ran. I couldn't watch you break yourself anymore.I had to get away. I'll be safe.Don't come looking for me—you have your own battles to fight.I love you always.E.
The note was both a plea and a confession: Ethan was trying to protect her—again—just as he had all those years ago under the bridge. And now he had vanished into the night, leaving her to face her demons alone.
Tears blurred Kara's vision as she crumpled the paper. "He's right," she whispered. "I have to face this—to stop running."
Alden knelt beside her, his voice soft. "Then let's start tonight. We'll gather what we know, and we'll go find him. Together."
Kara looked up at him, searching his eyes for certainty. Instead, she saw only love—and the weight of every mistake she'd ever made mirrored in his expression. She inhaled and nodded.
They moved silently through the house, gathering coats, flashlights, her phone—anything that might help. In the study, Kara paused before a wall of framed photos: her and Ethan at birthdays, holidays, quiet afternoons in the garden. Each snapshot a reminder of what she was fighting for—and what nearly slipped away forever.
Outside, the sky crackled with distant thunder, as though the heavens themselves were warning her of the storm ahead. Alden started the car, and they drove into the night, the city's glare fading behind them.
Every streetlight they passed felt like a countdown: Ethan could be anywhere—huddled in an alley, hiding in an empty warehouse, or lost in the maze of his own grief. And time was slipping through their fingers.
As they turned onto a deserted road leading out of town, Kara's phone buzzed. A single text:
Look under the old bridge. Come alone. —A Friend
Her heart seized. A friend? Or something worse?
She glanced at Alden, whose steady gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. Without a word, she slid out of the car, leaving the engine running, and stepped into the rain-slicked darkness.
Alden called after her, but she didn't turn back. Every drop lashing her face felt like a wake-up call—this was her moment. To save her brother. To reclaim herself.
Under the bridge, the midday sun couldn't have felt colder. Shadows shifted in the water below, and on the wet ground, she saw a single footprint, too large to be hers.
Her breath caught. She took another step forward—and into the echo of a familiar voice:
"Kara…"
She froze.