Clara stepped off the ferry, the salt-heavy air stinging her cheeks as she pulled her coat tighter. The dock creaked under her boots, a sound she hadn’t heard in ten years but recognized instantly. The town hadn’t changed—same weathered planks, same fog clinging to the water like a second skin. She hesitated, staring at the empty lot where her father’s house had stood, now just a shell of broken windows and sagging roof. A man stood at the edge of the pier, his back to her, arms crossed against the chill. She knew that posture, that stubborn angle to his shoulders. Eli. He hadn’t moved when she approached, his voice low when he finally spoke. “You’re late.” The words were a challenge, a blade wrapped in velvet. She swallowed the sting of memory. “I had things to do.” His laugh was bitter, sharp as the wind. “Things? Or someone?” She turned to leave, but he stepped in front of her, blocking the path. The scent of salt and diesel clung to him, unchanged. “This place is dying,” he said, gesturing to the dilapidated buildings. “You think selling the house will save it?” She met his gaze, steady. “It’s all I have left.” His hand brushed hers, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through her. “You always ran from what you couldn’t fix,” he muttered. The words hung between them, a truth she’d spent years avoiding. She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the tension. A woman in her thirties approached, her smile strained. “Clara?” Clara’s breath caught. The woman’s face was a mirror of her own, younger, frayed at the edges. “Mom?” The woman’s eyes filled with something like relief and guilt. “I tried to call. I didn’t know if you’d come.” Eli stepped back, his expression unreadable. Clara turned to him, heart pounding. “You knew?” He nodded slowly. “She left after your dad’s accident. Said she couldn’t stay here.” The air between them crackled with unspoken accusations. Clara’s mother hesitated, then reached for her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Clara pulled away, tears blurring her vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye.” The words came out raw, a wound reopened. Eli watched, silent, as the two women stood there, the past pressing in on all sides. The wind howled, carrying the scent of rain and regret. Clara closed her eyes, the weight of it all threatening to crush her. When she opened them again, Eli was gone, his silhouette vanishing into the mist. Her mother reached for her again, but Clara stepped back, shaking her head. “I need time,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. The dock felt colder now, the air thick with unspoken secrets. She turned away, heading toward the empty lot, the house that had once been her refuge now a tomb of memories. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the water. Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out, a sound that echoed through the quiet. Clara stopped at the edge of the property, staring at the broken windows. A part of her wanted to run, to leave this place and everything it represented. But another part, deeper and more stubborn, refused to let go. She reached into her coat pocket, fingers brushing against the key she’d taken from her father’s desk. It was cold against her skin, a tangible link to the life she’d left behind. The wind shifted, carrying with it the faintest hint of seaweed and something else—something familiar. She turned, expecting to see Eli again, but the pier was empty. Only the waves remained, crashing against the shore in a rhythm as old as time. Clara exhaled, the tension in her chest easing ever so slightly. She didn’t know what came next, but for the first time in years, she wasn’t alone. The house behind her stood silent, its secrets waiting to be unearthed. And somewhere in the distance, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and violet. Clara stepped forward, the key clutched tightly in her hand, and crossed the threshold into whatever came next.
