Aria's POV
Damien fired.
The gunshot exploded in the confined space, deafening. But Marcus was already moving, ducking behind the doorframe with the practiced ease of someone who'd expected it.
"Now!" Damien shoved me toward the window.
I ran, glass crunching under my feet, wind screaming through the broken panes. The catwalk was old and rusted, swaying dangerously as I stumbled onto it.
Behind me, I heard scuffling. A grunt of pain. Damien's voice, sharp and commanding: "Stay down!"
But I couldn't leave him. Couldn't run while he fought my battles.
I turned back—and froze.
Kira stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light from inside. The knife in her hand gleamed.
"Kira?" My voice cracked. "What are you doing?"
She stepped onto the catwalk, moving with strange, mechanical precision. Up close, I could see her face clearly for the first time in five years.
Same red hair, though duller now. Same green eyes, though empty. Same scar above her eyebrow from when we were eight and thought we could fly off the swings.
But everything else was wrong.
"You were there," she said. Her voice was flat, emotionless. "The night of the fire. You were there, Aria."
"I wasn't! I was home with Marcus—"
"That's what he told you. That's what he made you believe." She took another step closer. The catwalk groaned under our weight. "But I remember. I remember everything."
My back hit the railing. Nowhere left to go. Below us, the ocean crashed against rocks fifty feet down.
"Then tell me," I pleaded. "Tell me what happened!"
"He called you that night. Said I was in trouble. That I'd been in an accident and needed you." Her eyes focused on me for the first time, and the pain in them was unbearable. "You came to the beach house. You found me with the financial records. You were going to help me take them to the police."
Fragments flickered in my mind—driving in the dark, my phone ringing, Marcus's voice urgent and concerned.
"Marcus arrived," Kira continued. "He was angry. So angry. He grabbed the papers from me. You tried to stop him." She raised the knife, and I saw her hand was shaking. "You fought him, Aria. You were so brave. You actually fought him."
"I don't remember—"
"Because he drugged you!" The words burst out of her, raw and broken. "He held you down and forced pills down your throat while you screamed. I tried to help you. I swear I tried. But he hit me so hard everything went dark."
Tears streamed down my face. "Then the fire—"
"I woke up tied to a chair in the basement. The house was burning. Marcus had set it himself—multiple locations, just like the investigators said. He wanted everyone to think I died." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But he came back. Pulled me out at the last second. Told me if I ever told anyone the truth, he'd kill my little sister. She was only twelve, Aria. I couldn't let him hurt her."
My legs gave out. I slid down against the railing, gasping for air that wouldn't come.
"So you've been alive this whole time? In that psychiatric facility?"
"He kept me drugged. Compliant. Told the doctors I was delusional, dangerous to myself. They believed him. Everyone always believes Marcus." Her laugh was bitter and broken. "And he visited me every week. Reminded me what would happen if I tried to escape. Showed me pictures of my sister at school, at home, with her friends. Proof that he was always watching."
"But you escaped three days ago—"
"Because he wanted me to." She finally met my eyes, and I saw the truth there. "Don't you understand? This was all part of his plan. He let me escape. Let me contact you. Led you right here."
Behind us, inside the lighthouse, something crashed. Damien shouted. More gunshots.
"We have to help him!" I started to stand, but Kira grabbed my arm.
"Wait. There's more you need to know. About that night. About what happened after Marcus drugged you."
My blood turned to ice at the look in her eyes.
"He put you in your car. Drove you back to the beach house while you were barely conscious. And then he..." She swallowed hard. "He put matches in your hand, Aria. Made you hold them. Pressed your fingers around the box and the lighter fluid can. Your prints are all over the crime scene."
The world spun. "No. No, I would never—"
"You didn't! But that's what it looks like. That's what the evidence shows. Marcus has been holding that over both of us for five years. If I talk, he'll prove you started the fire. You'll go to prison. You'll lose Lily."
"That's why you've been sending me those messages? To warn me?"
"No." Her voice broke completely. "I sent them because Marcus told me to. Because he said if I didn't, my sister would die. I'm so sorry, Aria. I'm so, so sorry."
She raised the knife higher, and I finally understood.
This wasn't a rescue. This was an execution.
"He's watching right now," Kira whispered, and I saw the tiny camera clipped to her collar. "He's watching, and he told me exactly what I have to do. You or my sister. That's the choice."
"Kira, please—"
"I can't let him hurt her. I can't." Tears poured down her face even as she stepped closer, knife steady. "You have Lily. You understand. You'd do anything to protect your child. Anything."
She was right. I would do anything for Lily.
Even die for her.
"Do it," I said quietly. "Do what you have to do."
Kira's face crumpled. "I loved you. You were my best friend. My sister."
"I know." I closed my eyes. "I love you too. It's okay."
I waited for the pain. For the knife to sink into my chest. For everything to finally be over.
Instead, I heard Kira scream.
My eyes flew open.
She'd turned the knife around, pressing it against her own throat.
"I won't do it!" she shouted at the camera. "You can't make me! Not anymore!"
"Kira, stop!"
But she wasn't looking at me. She was staring at something over my shoulder.
I spun around.
Marcus stood in the doorway, his gun pointed directly at Damien's head. Damien was on his knees, blood running from his temple, hands raised in surrender.
"Drop the knife, Kira," Marcus said calmly. "Or I shoot him. Then Aria. Then I drive to Sophie's house and finish what I started five years ago."
"You're bluffing," Kira said, but her voice shook.
"Am I?" Marcus smiled. "Test me. See what happens."
The knife trembled against Kira's throat. One slice and it would all be over—she'd bleed out in seconds.
"Don't," I begged. "Please don't."
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "For everything. Tell my sister I tried to protect her."
"Kira—"
She sliced.
Blood sprayed across the catwalk.
I screamed.
But the knife hadn't cut deep—just enough to draw blood, to make a point. Kira stumbled backward, dropping the weapon. It clattered through the grating and disappeared into the ocean below.
"You missed," Marcus observed. "How disappointing."
"Go to hell," Kira spat.
"Eventually. But not tonight." He shifted his gun from Damien to me. "Tonight, we're going to finish what we started five years ago. And this time, there won't be any evidence. No cameras. No witnesses. Just three people who tragically died in a murder-suicide."
"The police will know," Damien said through gritted teeth. "James knows where we are—"
"James is currently unconscious in a ditch two miles from here. My men are very efficient." Marcus's smile widened. "No one's coming to save you. No one even knows you're here."
He was right. We were alone. Trapped. Completely at his mercy.
And Marcus had never been a merciful man.
"Here's how this works," he said pleasantly. "Aria, you're going to walk over here. Slowly. And then you're going to get on your knees and beg me to forgive you for leaving me. For taking my daughter. For ruining my life."
"Never," I said.
"Then I shoot your boyfriend first. Make you watch him die. Then Kira. Then I'll make it look like you did it before shooting yourself." He shrugged. "Your choice, darling. But choose fast. I'm getting bored."
I looked at Damien. Blood ran down his face, but his eyes were alert, calculating. He gave me the tiniest shake of his head.
Don't do it, he mouthed.
But what choice did I have?
I took a step toward Marcus.
And that's when the catwalk gave out beneath us.
Metal shrieked. Bolts tore free from ancient concrete. The whole structure tilted sideways at a sickening angle.
I grabbed for the railing, but my hands slipped.
I was falling.
The ocean rushed up to meet me.
And the last thing I heard before I hit the water was Damien screaming my name.