“That's him.”
Dave's voice was barely a whisper.
I stared at the photograph on my phone.
The old house stood exactly as I remembered it.
Same faded white walls.
Same rusted gate.
Same huge mango tree beside the driveway.
But there was one thing that didn't belong.
Ethan.
Standing in front of the house.
Alive.
I looked at Dave.
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“That's Ethan.”
“Maybe it isn't.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I'd know him anywhere.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then why is he there?”
Dave didn't answer.
Because we both knew the question that followed.
Why now?
After twelve years?
After everything?
Why would Ethan suddenly appear?
My phone vibrated again.
Another message.
«You have until sunrise.»
Then another.
«Come alone.»
I frowned.
“Again with t
