Anchors in the Shadows

The Sunroom

The night air was cool against Damien’s skin as he crept along the side of the Rockens’ house. His bag was tight against his shoulder, flashlight tucked away, every step measured and quiet. He was almost past the garden when a sound stopped him cold. Voices. He crouched low, heart pounding. The sunroom’s windows were open, spilling faint lamplight into the yard. Shadows moved inside Amelia’s silhouette, sharp and familiar, and another figure he couldn’t quite make out. Her voice carried, low but distinct. “Is it done?” A pause. The other voice murmured something Damien couldn’t catch. Amelia again, firmer this time. “Good. He’s never going to go away. Never.” Damien’s breath caught. He pressed closer to the wall, straining to hear more, but the words blurred into whispers. He caught fragments “keep quiet”… “not yet”… “mine.” Then the figure shifted, speaking for the first time. “Is this the last time?” Damien’s mind spun. What was she saying that about? The thought gnawed at him, but he forced himself to push it aside. He couldn’t afford to get tangled in Amelia’s secrets now. Not when answers about his parents about the accident, the drowning were waiting somewhere else. He pulled back, careful not to let the gravel crunch under his shoes. The lamplight flickered across Amelia’s silhouette, her braid swinging like a shadow across the window frame. Damien slipped into the dark, moving quickly toward the street, Amelia’s and the figure’s words echoing in his head. Is it done? Never going to go away. Is this the last time? He tightened his grip on the bag. Whatever Amelia was hiding, it was bigger than he’d imagined. But tonight wasn’t about her. Tonight was about Nyx, the clock tower, and the past he’d forgotten.