Chapter 13 - A Kiss in the Dark
1181 Words
Anna stood frozen in the room, her pulse a rapid drumbeat in her ears. The past was no longer a distant nightmare—it was here, suffocating, pressing against her from all angles. The air was thick with memories, each one unravelling from the tightly wound threads she had spent years knotting together.
She had heard footsteps.
Someone had been there.
Someone had run.
Damien’s sharp gaze never left her. He was assessing her, waiting for her to piece it together, waiting for something in her expression to confirm what he was already beginning to suspect.
Anna swallowed hard. “I—I don’t know if it was real. My head was spinning. Everything was blurry. Maybe I imagined it.”
Damien’s jaw tightened. “Or maybe you didn’t.”
He turned away, scanning the room, his eyes moving like a predator analyzing its prey. “If someone was here that night, they saw something. They might have even been involved.”
Anna hugged her arms around herself. “But why wouldn’t they have come forward?”
Damien shot her a look. “Because they didn’t want to be caught.”
She inhaled sharply. The thought made her stomach turn. If there had been someone else there, someone who had seen what really happened, then that meant—
She had spent years rotting in a prison cell while the real murderer had walked free.
Damien must have seen the flicker of realization in her eyes because his features hardened with determination. “We need to find out who was here.”
Anna turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. “It’s been years, Damien. The police already closed the case. No one is going to talk.”
“Someone will.”
His voice was absolute. A promise.
She exhaled, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Even if we find out someone was here, what do we do? Go to the cops and say, ‘Hey, I suddenly remembered something after all these years. Mind reopening the case?’”
Damien crossed his arms. “If it leads to evidence, yes.”
Anna scoffed. “And if it doesn’t?”
His eyes darkened. “Then I’ll make sure we get it.”
The certainty in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. Damien wasn’t the type to back down. Once he had a target, he wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.
And right now, what he wanted was the truth.
They left the house in silence. The sky was beginning to darken, casting long shadows over the abandoned street. Anna couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. It wasn’t logical—there was no one around. But after what had just surfaced, paranoia felt like a natural response.
Damien drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting against his jaw, deep in thought. Anna stared out the window, her thoughts a chaotic mess.
After a while, she finally broke the silence. “So what now?”
Damien’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Now, we find out who was at that party.”
Anna sighed. “Easier said than done. Most of those people are long gone.”
“Not all of them.”
She turned to him, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Damien exhaled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I had my investigator pull records on the people closest to Allen and Gizelle back then. Some of them left the city, but a few stayed.”
Anna’s stomach clenched. “You were already looking into them?”
His jaw ticked. “I’ve been looking into everything since the moment I found you.”
There it was. The reminder of why he had entered her life in the first place.
Anna shifted uncomfortably. “And what do you expect to find?”
Damien glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “The truth.”
She exhaled, shaking her head. “You say that like it’s simple.”
“It is.”
“It’s not,” she muttered. “The truth doesn’t change what happened.”
“No,” Damien agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “But it might change what happens next.”
Anna didn’t know how to respond to that. So she said nothing.
Later that night, Anna sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. Damien had dropped her off at her apartment a few hours ago, telling her to get some rest while he followed up on some leads.
But rest was impossible.
She had scrolled through her contacts five times already, her thumb hovering over a number she never thought she’d call again.
Finally, before she could talk herself out of it, she pressed dial.
The phone rang three times before a familiar voice answered.
“Anna?”
Her throat tightened. “Hey, Jason.”
A pause. Then, “Wow. It’s been—”
“Yeah,” she cut in. “I know.”
Jason had been one of the few people from high school who hadn’t turned his back on her completely. He hadn’t spoken out for her either, but at the very least, he hadn’t joined the mob that had condemned her.
She took a deep breath. “I need to ask you something.”
Jason hesitated. “Okay…”
Anna swallowed. “The night of the party. Were you there?”
Another pause. Then, a slow, cautious, “Yeah.”
Her pulse kicked up. “Do you remember anything… strange? Someone leaving in a hurry? Someone acting off?”
Jason was silent for a moment. Then, when he spoke again, his voice was lower, like he was suddenly afraid someone might hear him. “Why are you asking about this now?”
Anna’s stomach clenched. “Because I think there’s more to what happened that night than what we were told.”
Jason let out a slow breath. “Anna… I don’t know if I should be talking about this.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “Jason, please.”
There was a long silence. Then, finally—
“There was someone,” he admitted.
Anna’s breath caught. “Who?”
Jason hesitated. “I don’t know. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time. But I remember someone leaving the house really fast. I thought they were just drunk, but now… I don’t know. It was weird.”
Anna’s heart pounded. “Did you see their face?”
Another pause. Then, slowly—
“No. But I remember what they were wearing.”
Anna’s pulse thundered in her ears. “Jason—what were they wearing?”
Jason exhaled. “A red hoodie.”
The room tilted. The air was sucked out of her lungs.
Because suddenly, she wasn’t in her apartment anymore.
She was nineteen years old, trapped in a nightmare, blinking through the haze of drugs and blood, watching a figure disappear into the night.
A figure wearing a red hoodie.
And just like that, the first missing piece of the puzzle slid into place.
- Writer
