Chapter 12: The Blood At The Cliff

We found fresh blood.

It belongs to Ethan.

My whole body went still, my heart stopped beating, my breath got stuck in my throat. I could not move, I could not speak.

The blood belongs to Ethan.

Just hours ago, he stood in front of me alive and strong. Just hours ago he looked at me in a way that felt new, like he was finally seeing me for the first time. And now this word kept ringing in my ears.

Blood.

My chest ached, and the pain shocked me. Somewhere along the way, Ethan had stopped being the man who hated me, he had become someone I needed, someone whose silence could break me.

How much blood? Arthur’s voice cut through the heavy air.

The officer paused before answering, Not enough to say he is dead.

Everyone froze like statues.

My head shot up. What do you mean?

We found blood in the car and on the rocks nearby, the officer said.

Hope rushed into my chest like warm air filling a balloon. So he’s alive?

We don’t know yet the officer said, but we found footprints. Signs that someone moved after the crash.

What kind of movement? Arthur asked, stepping closer.

The officer pointed toward the trees past the cliff. Two sets of footprints.

My stomach dropped like a stone into water.

Two? Not one?

One set belongs to Mr. Kingsley, the officer said.

The whole group went silent, holding their breath.

The other belongs to a man we cannot identify.

The air left my lungs as someone punched me.

The mystery man, it had to be him. The same man from the old photograph, the same man everyone believed was dead, the same man tied to Lily, the same man tied to my accident three years ago.

Arthur’s face turned dark, like storm clouds covering the sun.

It looks like Ethan left the scene with this man, the officer said carefully.

Nobody understood, not even me.

Was Ethan forced to go? Was he hurt? Or did he walk away on his own two feet?

Before anyone could answer, another officer ran over holding a small plastic bag. My heart nearly stopped again.

Inside was a silver necklace.

My necklace.

The one I had not seen in three years.

My hands began to shake so hard I had to hold them together. No, I whispered.

You know this? The officer asked.

I nodded slowly, my throat tight. That’s mine I lost it three years ago, the day I woke up in St. Mary’s Hospital.

A heavy silence fell over everyone like a wet blanket.

The officer looked confused, but Arthur cursed under his breath. He understood, we all did. This necklace should have disappeared forever, Instead, it showed up here at Ethan’s crash site.

That was not luck, that was a message. Someone wanted us to connect my old accident to Ethan’s crash tonight.

My whole body turned cold like ice water running through my veins, the past was not over, It had never been over, It had only been sleeping, waiting to wake up and bite us again.

Then a phone rang, sharp and sudden. Everyone jumped.

It was Lily’s phone, her face turned white as paper when she saw the name calling. She hit reject fast — too fast.

Arthur noticed, So did I.

Seconds later, a message popped up on her screen. She tried to hide it, but I caught her face before she could. Pure fear, raw and open, like a small animal caught in a trap.

My stomach twisted into a knot.

What is it? Arthur asked.

Nothing, Lily said, gripping her purse tight.

Lily.

It’s nothing! Her voice cracked in the middle.

She grabbed her bag and turned to leave. Arthur stepped in front of her, blocking her path like a wall.

No, he said. Just one word, but it stopped her cold.

For the first time, nobody rushed to protect Lily, nobody believed her. She stood there completely alone, and I could see how much she hated that feeling.

A second police car pulled up. A detective got out, his face as serious as stone. He walked straight to Arthur and handed him a tablet.

We found footage from a gas station ten miles from the crash, he said. Recorded forty minutes after the accident.

We all crowded around the small screen, I held my breath so tight my chest hurt.

Then the video began.

There he was.

Ethan.

Alive, standing, walking on his own legs.

My knees went weak with relief, like they might give out under me, he was alive.

But my relief did not last long, because Ethan was not alone in that video. A second man stood beside him — tall, broad shoulders, dressed in dark clothes.

The same man from the hospital photo, the man the world thought was buried and gone.

In the video, the two men talked, argued, then Ethan followed him.

Not dragged, not forced.

He walked with him of his own choice.

The video ended and nobody said a word, the silence felt like it could crush us all.

Finally, Arthur looked at the detective. Where are they now?

We don’t know, the detective admitted.

My stomach sank again.

Another officer came running, holding a paper. Sir! We traced the messages.

Everyone turned to listen, the detective opened the file and his face changed — shock first, then disbelief. He looked at Arthur, then at me.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

What is it? I asked.

He took a breath before speaking. These messages were not sent from a burner phone, they came from an account created twenty-five years ago.

Nobody understood — not yet.

The account belongs to a man listed as dead, the detective said.

My blood turned to ice.

Arthur closed his eyes like he was in pain. Lily looked like she might collapse where she stood.

And in that moment, I understood something new. This mystery man was not just connected to Ethan, not just connected to Lily, not just connected to my accident.

He was tied to something much bigger, something buried for many years.

Then the detective asked the question that changed everything for me.

Mr. Kingsley, he said slowly, Why does a man everyone believes is dead keep asking about Ivy Evans?

The whole cliffside went silent.

Arthur’s face lost all its color, turning pale as paper.

And for the first time, I understood — he knew exactly who that man was.