The days in Seabrook had begun to blur together sunlight, laughter, and the soft rhythm of waves. But to Ariana, it felt like waking from a dream she didn't want to end.
Ethan had become her constant.
He taught her how to fix nets, how to tell a storm was coming by the color of the clouds, how to let go of the fear of what she didn't know.
Sometimes, he'd watch her as she talked with the townspeople, a faint smile playing at his lips like he couldn't quite believe she was real.
One afternoon, as rain drizzled softly outside, the two of them sat in his workshop. She was trying to paint again, her fingers hesitant on the brush.
Ethan leaned over her shoulder, his voice low. "You're not holding it right."
She turned slightly and froze.
He was close. Too close. His breath brushed her cheek, his scent of sea salt and cedarwood making her heartbeat stumble.
"Then show me," she murmured.
He reached around her, his hand steadying hers. Together, they moved the brush a single stroke of blue across the canvas.
The room felt smaller. The air, heavier.
She turned her head and suddenly, their lips were inches apart.
Neither of them moved for a long moment, caught in the quiet tension that hummed between them.
Then Ethan stepped back, his voice rough. "Mira… you should rest."
Her heart ached at the distance. "Why do you always pull away?"
He hesitated, his jaw tight. "Because you don't know who you are yet. And I don't want to be the reason you stop looking."
That night, Ariana couldn't sleep. The dreams returned this time clearer.
A necklace like hers, but shining under chandelier lights. A man's voice calling out Ariana!
Her reflection in a mirror elegant, cold, unrecognizable.
She woke gasping, clutching the locket.
The photo inside was clearer now a woman with her face, standing beside an older man in a tuxedo.
Her hands trembled.
Who was she really?
Outside, she saw Ethan walking toward the beach, his flashlight cutting through the mist. She almost called after him but something stopped her.
Instead, she whispered into the darkness,
"Maybe you're keeping secrets too."