The silence between them had grown too loud to ignore. Aiden sat at the edge of the hotel bed, his fingers intertwined tightly, knuckles white with tension. Elena leaned against the wall, her eyes not leaving the rain sliding down the windowpane like silent tears.
"You lied to me," she said, her voice sharp and steady. It wasn't a question. It was an accusation she had rehearsed over and over on her way back from the archives.
Aiden looked up, his jaw tightening. "I didn't lie. I protected you."
Elena turned slowly, finally meeting his gaze. "From what? The truth?"
He stood. "From everything you weren't ready to face."
There was a bitter laugh in her throat, but she swallowed it. "So you decided what I could or couldn't handle?"
"Elena—"
"No." She cut him off. "You knew what I was looking for. You let me walk into that place blind, while you sat on the truth like it wasn't burning your conscience."
His silence spoke louder than any confession.
She stepped forward, closing the distance. "How long have you known?"
Aiden's shoulders slumped. "Since the beginning."
The room spun. The words hit harder than any slap. "Since the beginning?" she echoed, barely recognizing her own voice.
He nodded. "Your mother's death wasn't just an accident. She was silenced. And my father… he was part of it."
Elena staggered back as if struck. "Your father? The senator?"
"I didn't want you to find out this way."
"But you were okay with me never finding out at all?" she snapped.
Aiden moved toward her, but she raised a hand. "Don't."
"Elena, I love you."
Her heart twisted. She hated how those words still moved her. But trust was a currency that had been drained.
"I don't even know who you are anymore," she whispered.
"You do," he insisted. "Everything I did, I did to keep you safe."
She stared at him, eyes glistening. "But you forgot something, Aiden. Safety without truth is just another form of control."
A knock on the door interrupted them. Elena wiped her eyes quickly and stepped aside. Aiden opened it to find Mason, drenched and breathless.
"We have a problem," Mason said, stepping in. "The files you pulled from the archives? Someone's looking for them. They're tracking your location."
Aiden cursed under his breath. Elena's expression hardened. "Let them come. I'm done running."
"No," Aiden said. "We move now. Tonight."
Mason shook his head. "Too late. They're already here."
Lights from black SUVs flashed through the rain outside.
Aiden grabbed the bag by the bed. "Emergency route—stairwell, service exit, we head to the safehouse in Sector 6."
Elena didn't move. She looked out the window at the men stepping out with rifles, scanning the building.
She whispered to herself, "It's starting all over again."
Aiden took her hand. She didn't pull away. Not yet.
"Stay with me," he said.
"I don't trust you," she replied.
"You don't have to. Just trust yourself enough to survive this."
That was enough—for now. She nodded, and they ran.
Down the stairs, through the back halls of the hotel. Mason disabled the camera feeds. The sound of boots echoed above them.
At the back alley exit, a figure waited.
It was Lara.
Elena froze. "You…"
Lara smiled coldly. "Did you really think I'd let you escape twice?"
She drew a weapon. Aiden stepped in front of Elena, but Lara had already raised her gun.
"Move," she said. "Or I'll make sure the truth dies with her."
From the shadows, another shot rang out—Mason had fired first.
Lara collapsed, screaming. Not dead. Not yet.
Elena grabbed Aiden. "Go!"
They ran into the storm, the city unfolding before them like a battlefield. Every step forward was a step away from the past—and a step closer to the danger still lurking in the shadows.
They were no longer just searching for answers. They were running from everyone who wanted the truth buried forever.