Chapter 5 Echoes of the Past

The heat of August pressed down on Maplewood like a suffocating secret.

For days, the sky hung low and gray, and even the birds seemed quieter, as if the world was holding its breath. Jane and Damien had grown used to this tension-the stares, the whispers, the occasional silent phone calls that came late at night and said nothing.

But on the third Friday of the month, it wasn't a phone call or spray-painted fence that shook their stillness.

It was Brad.

Jane was shelving books at the library when she saw him.

He stood at the far end of the aisle, near the biographies, wearing that same smug smile he always wore when he knew he held power. Blond hair slicked back, dressed in a navy blazer like it was still 1992, and holding a book he wasn't actually reading.

"Hello, Jane."

Her breath caught.

"Brad."

He walked toward her with deliberate slowness. "Didn't expect to find you still here. I thought by now you'd have left this little town."

"Some of us find reasons to stay," she said, steadying her voice.

His eyes narrowed. "So I heard."

She stiffened.

"You know, people are talking. Even in Montgomery. Word travels."

Jane folded her arms. "Let them."

He tilted his head. "I came back because I thought maybe we could talk. You and me. Maybe get coffee. Reminisce."

"About what? The engagement you ran from? The way you humiliated me in front of my family?"

"People change. I was young. Stupid."

"You were cruel."

There was silence.

He stepped closer. "You think he cares about you the way I did?"

Jane didn't blink. "He sees me in a way you never could."

Brad smirked. "Jane, people like him don't stick. He's not one of us."

And there it was. The rot beneath the smile.

"I suggest you leave," she said.

"He's putting a target on your back. On both of you. I'm just looking out for you."

"We don't need your protection."

He turned and walked off, but not before throwing one last line over his shoulder.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

---

That night, Jane sat on Damien's porch, legs pulled to her chest, a storm building behind her eyes.

"He came back. Brad."

Damien, who had been trimming one of his records for a mix tape, paused. "What did he want?"

"To scare me. To reclaim some old piece of me."

Damien exhaled slowly. "And did he?"

She shook her head. "Not even close."

He put the record down and came to sit beside her.

"He thinks you're a phase," she said quietly. "He thinks you'll leave."

Damien took her hand. "I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes shimmered. "Promise me. When it gets harder-because it will-you won't push me away."

He looked at her, every word etched in his voice. "You're the only thing that feels like home. I'm not going anywhere, Jane. Not unless you're walking beside me."

They kissed, slow and fierce, and Jane leaned into it like she needed it to breathe.

But just as the kiss deepened, the phone inside Damien's house rang.

Once.

Twice.

He ignored it. Then it stopped.

Then rang again.

He sighed and went inside.

Seconds later, his voice changed.

"What do you mean she's in the hospital? What happened?"

Jane stood in the doorway, heart hammering.

Damien turned, eyes wide. "That was my sister. My mom collapsed back in Chicago. Stroke."

"Oh my God. Damien-"

"I need to go. Tonight."

---

Within the hour, he had packed a small bag.

Jane stood at the curb as he loaded it into the trunk. The air was thick with unsaid things.

"I wish I could come with you," she said.

He smiled weakly. "You can't leave the library mid-week. And... they don't know about you. Not yet."

Her face fell.

"It's not that I'm ashamed," he said quickly. "It's just... complicated."

"You don't owe me an explanation. Just come back. Please."

He kissed her forehead.

"You're all I'll be thinking about."

Then he drove off.

Jane stood alone, the tail lights fading into the dark, and for the first time since they met, she felt something cold settle in her chest:

Fear......