Anchors in the Shadows

The Witness

The silence of the library pressed against his ears, heavy and familiar, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above. He sat at the back table, the evidence from the funeral home heavy in his bag, Amelia’s words from last night circling in his mind. A soft shuffle broke the quiet. Damien looked up. A kid, maybe a year younger than him is standing awkwardly at the end of the aisle. His hoodie hung loose, his eyes sharp but nervous. “You’re Damien Lockey, right?” the kid asked. Damien frowned. “Yeah. Who are you?” The boy stepped closer, voice low. “I’m Eli. Henry was my grandfather.” His throat tightened on the name. “I know you were at the funeral home. I know you saw what happened.” Damien’s chest tightened. “How do you know?” Eli hesitated, then pulled a folded paper from his pocket. “Because he told me. He said if anything ever happened to him, someone had to make sure the truth didn’t disappear. He said she didn’t want anyone to know.” Damien’s pulse jumped. She? Like Nyx? The thought twisted in his chest, doubt creeping in. If Nyx had known more than she let on… maybe Amelia was the only one he could still talk to. “I don’t know who she is, that’s just what my grandfather said,” Eli added quickly, eyes darting toward the door. Damien unfolded the paper, breath catching at the words, Witness statement, child at the dock. His stomach dropped. A witness. Someone else had seen the day he drowned. Damien shoved the paper into his bag, heart pounding. Nyx was gone. Eli’s warning echoed in his ears. But Amelia was still here. Still steady. Still the one who had always been by his side. Damien tightened his grip on the bag. After everything that had happened tonight, he needed her, not as someone to interrogate, but as someone to lean on. She was the closest thing to family he had left. Tonight, he would talk to her. He had to.