# Chloe Pierce's POV
The white roses tremble in my hands as I stare at the man sitting cross-legged before the Knight family grave. The morning sun casts harsh shadows across his face, but there's no mistaking those features.
"Aiden?" The name escapes my lips like a prayer.
He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just watches me with those dark eyes that have haunted my dreams for five years.
My legs feel like water. The roses slip from my fingers and scatter across the frost-covered grass.
"You're supposed to be dead." My voice cracks. "They said... everyone said you died that night."
He takes a long pull from the wine bottle in his hand. "Maybe I did."
The casual way he says it makes my chest tighten. I take a shaky step forward, then another, until I'm close enough to see the exhaustion etched into his face.
"How long have you known?" he asks.
