Julian looked at the photograph again.
The scar.
The black case.
The man's hand resting on its handle as though he had every right to be there.
He remembered the alley.
The figure beneath the streetlight.
The quiet voice.
You remembered.
And now Silas was telling him that this was the man who had pulled him from the river.
Julian slowly lifted his head.
"Where is he?"
Silas didn't answer.
"Where is the man in this photograph?"
"I don't know."
Julian laughed once, without humor.
"Of course you don't."
"Julian—"
"No."
He placed the photograph on the table.
"You don't get to say my name like that and expect me to stop asking questions."
Silas fell silent.
Julian turned toward the stranger.
"You have another copy of this photograph?"
"No."
"Where's the original file?"
"Back at the apartment."
"The apartment that's probably crawling with people looking for us?"
The stranger didn't answer.
Julian shook his head.
"Wonderful."
Mara folded her arms.
"We can't go back there."
"We aren't going back."
Silas looked at him.
"Then where are you going?"
Julian met his eyes.
"Somewhere you can't follow."
Something flickered across Silas's face.
It was gone almost immediately.
"You think leaving me behind will make you safer?"
"No. I think it will make it harder for you to decide what's safe for me."
Silas's jaw tightened.
For a moment, Julian thought he would argue.
Instead, Silas reached into his coat and placed a phone on the table.
"Take it."
Julian stared at it.
"What is it?"
"A phone."
"I know what a phone is."
"Then why did you ask?"
Mara sighed.
The stranger looked like he regretted every decision that had brought him into the room.
Julian picked up the device.
It was old, with no visible branding. The screen was already unlocked.
One contact had been saved.
ADRIAN.
Julian looked at Silas.
"You said you didn't know whether he was alive."
"I don't."
"Then why do you have his number?"
"Because he contacted me three years ago."
The room went quiet.
Julian looked at the screen again.
"What did he say?"
"That you were gone."
"That's all?"
Silas hesitated.
"No."
Julian waited.
"He said that if you ever returned, I shouldn't let you remember the river."
A chill moved through Julian.
"And you listened?"
Silas looked at him.
"I tried."
The honesty of the answer was almost worse than a lie.
Julian placed the phone in his pocket.
"Did Adrian tell you to take me home?"
"No."
"Did he tell you to pretend we were lovers?"
Silas's expression changed.
"No."
"Then what did he tell you?"
Silas looked away.
"To keep you alive."
Julian stared at him.
"And you decided the best way to do that was to keep me ignorant."
"I decided the best way to do that was to keep you where I could protect you."
"Those aren't the same thing."
"I know that now."
Julian wanted to believe him.
That was the problem.
Some part of him still wanted to believe Silas had been trying to protect him, even when protection had become indistinguishable from imprisonment.
But wanting something to be true didn't make it true.
He turned toward the door.
"We're leaving."
Silas stepped aside.
No argument.
No attempt to stop him.
Julian paused.
He had expected resistance.
The absence of it made him suspicious.
"You're letting me go?"
Silas looked at him.
"I never stopped you from leaving."
Julian's expression hardened.
"You built a cage around me."
"I built a place for you to survive."
"You locked the doors."
Silas had no answer.
Julian left before he could invent one.
Mara followed.
The stranger came last.
Outside, the afternoon light had faded into a dull grey. Traffic moved along the road, and ordinary people walked past without noticing the tension between the three figures emerging from the building.
Julian envied them.
They could walk through the world without wondering who had arranged their lives before they were old enough to understand them.
He couldn't remember whether he had ever been able to do that.
"Where are we going?" Mara asked.
Julian took out the phone Silas had given him.
"To find Adrian."
"You don't even know if he's alive."
"Then we'll find out."
"And if the number is a trap?"
Julian looked at her.
"Then we'll know someone wants me to follow it."
Mara stared at him.
The stranger gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
"There he is."
Julian turned.
"Who?"
"Locke."
Julian's expression went cold.
"Don't."
The stranger raised his hands.
"All right."
They walked to the end of the street.
Julian switched on the phone.
A single message appeared.
No notification sound.
No sender.
Just text.
If you're reading this, you have the key.
Julian stopped.
Mara leaned closer.
"What's it say?"
He showed her.
Her face tightened.
Another message appeared.
You have until midnight to decide whether you want the truth.
Then a location.
An abandoned railway station on the northern edge of the city.
Julian studied the screen.
"Do you know the place?" he asked.
The stranger nodded.
"Old Meridian Station."
"Is it still in use?"
"No. It was closed years ago."
Mara looked between them.
"This is too easy."
Julian slipped the phone into his pocket.
"Nothing about this has been easy."
"You know what I mean. Someone has led us from the apartment to the bridge, then to Silas, and now to a location."
"Yes."
"And you still want to go?"
Julian looked toward the road.
"I want to know who has been moving us around like pieces on a board."
The stranger studied him.
"And if the person waiting there is the one who tried to kill you?"
Julian's face remained calm.
"Then I'll finally meet someone who doesn't need to pretend they care about me."
Mara looked away.
Neither of them argued after that.
They found a taxi several streets away and travelled without speaking.
As the city thinned, Julian watched the buildings give way to empty lots and overgrown fences. The station appeared beyond a rusted gate, its windows dark, its platform swallowed by weeds.
The driver refused to go any farther.
Julian paid him and stepped out.
The air smelled of damp earth and rust.
He looked at the station.
A memory surfaced.
A platform.
A train waiting in the dark.
His own voice.
If I don't come back, don't look for me.
Then another voice.
Silas.
You don't get to make that decision for everyone.
Julian blinked.
The memory disappeared.
Mara noticed his expression.
"What did you remember?"
"Nothing useful."
"Julian—"
"Later."
He pushed open the gate.
It creaked loudly.
Inside, the station was silent.
They crossed the platform and entered the main building. Dust covered the ticket counter. Old departure boards hung above them, their letters frozen in a timetable that no longer mattered.
At the far end of the hall, a light was on.
Julian approached it.
A man stood beside a wooden table.
Black coat.
Dark gloves.
A pale scar across his left hand.
The stranger from the alley.
The man who had pulled Julian from the river.
He turned when Julian entered.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the man smiled faintly.
"You came."
Julian stopped several feet away.
"You left me in the river."
The smile disappeared.
"Yes."
"You watched me disappear."
"Yes."
"And now you expect me to walk in here and listen to whatever explanation you've prepared?"
"No."
The man removed his gloves and placed them on the table.
"I expect you to ask the question you've been avoiding."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
"Which question?"
The man looked directly at him.
"Why did I save you?"
Silence.
Julian stepped closer.
"All right. Why?"
The man reached into his coat and withdrew a small envelope.
He placed it on the table.
"Because you asked me to."
Julian stared at him.
"What?"
"Three years ago, before you disappeared, you came to me with a request."
"What request?"
The man pushed the envelope toward him.
"To make sure that if you ever forgot who you were, you would never find out why you had done it."
Julian's fingers hovered above the envelope.
"That makes no sense."
"It wasn't supposed to."
The man looked toward Mara.
"You're still wearing the ring."
Mara instinctively covered her hand.
Julian turned to her.
"You knew him."
She didn't deny it.
The man continued.
"You all knew enough to keep the truth buried. Until someone decided it was time to dig it up."
Julian opened the envelope.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
His own handwriting.
He recognized it immediately.
The words were written in black ink, firm and precise.
If I return, do not tell me what happened at the river.
Below it was another sentence.
Tell me who I was trying to save.
Julian read it twice.
Then a third time.
He lifted his head.
"Who was I trying to save?"
The scarred man looked at him.
"You weren't trying to save someone."
Julian's chest tightened.
"Then what was I doing?"
The man leaned forward.
"You were trying to stop someone from saving you."
Julian went still.
The station seemed to fall away around him.
A flash of memory.
Water rushing past.
A hand reaching toward him.
His own voice, desperate and furious.
Don't bring me back.
Then the scarred man's voice.
It's too late, Locke.
Julian stumbled backward.
Mara caught his arm.
He barely noticed.
The man watched him with an expression that was almost pity.
"You remember now."
Julian shook his head.
"No."
But he did remember something.
Not everything.
Just enough.
The river hadn't been an accident.
And the person he had been trying to escape hadn't been Silas.
It had been himself.
Julian looked down at the letter again.
At the final line.
Tell me who I was trying to save.
He raised his eyes.
"Who was it?"
The scarred man hesitated.
Then he gave an answer Julian had never expected.
"Silas."