Chapter 9: Dream Of What Could Be

As we sipped the smooth wine, the conversation drifted naturally towards family. Brian leaned back in his chair, a touch of vulnerability replacing his usual easy smile. "Family's important to me," he began, his voice softer than you'd heard all night. He spoke fondly of his sister, their bond evident in the way his voice softened when he mentioned her name. "My mom, she's a real diamond in the rough," he said, his eyes twinkling with affection. A shadow flickered across his face as he mentioned his father. "We lost him to leukaemia a few years back. He was a pillar of the community and owned Spring Island. They even have a creepy nickname for it – 'The Dead Island' some folks call it." A frown creased my forehead.

The Dead Island? I must admit, that doesn't sound very inviting.

Brian's smile faltered slightly. "This house," he began, his voice a low murmur, "used to be filled with laughter. But after we lost Dad..." He trailed off, a pained expression flickering across his face.