Summer kills

In the dim light cast from the hallway's overhead lights she could discern a figure, hunched under a hooded cloak, their identity shielded by shadows. Olivia felt a shiver of apprehension creeping up her spine yet curiosity edged her on,

nudging caution to the side. She unlocked the door slowly, careful not to make a sound.

As she opened it just a crack, a gust of wind rushed in carrying with it the chill of late night and a hint of rain. The person looked up at her; his face still obscured by the hood but his eyes held an urgency she couldn't ignore.

"Can I help you?" Olivia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The stranger remained silent for a moment before reaching out a gloved hand to lower his hood. Olivia felt her breath catch in her throat as she recognized the man standing in front of her. It was Ethan, Ruby's brother who had left town years ago under mysterious circumstances.

"I... I need to see Maddie and Jaxon," he said, his voice rough from the cold or possibly from suppressed emotion. Olivia felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"They aren't here, Ethan," she explained gently, "Maddie just left, but Jaxon...Jaxon's gone home. It's late."

Ethan's features hardened slightly at this information and he nodded stiffly, lowering his gaze to the ground. "I suppose it'll have to wait till morning then."

Despite her surprise at seeing him again after so many years, Olivia found herself nodding in agreement. She had so many

she had always found curious. His eyes, once deep pools of youthful optimism, now bore the heavy lines of a man who had faced the world too early and seen too much. His lips carried a persistent tightness that spoke volumes of suppressed pain and apology.

Yet amid the etched worries on his face, the essence of Ethan was still there - in the way he held his gaze steady, how he looped a stray lock of hair behind his ear when he was deep in thought, and the small half-smile that would grace his lips when something amused him. She knew these subtleties, they were ingrained in her memory like an old song she couldn't forget.

Her heart constricted with tenderness at the sight before her. In all his weary ruggedness, Ethan was still Ethan the boy who had blossomed into a man under her watchful eyes, the friend who had turned into something more, then less, then undefined over the span of numerous starlit years.

"Ethan," She found herself whispering his name, the weight of years and shared experiences tangling up in that single word. He looked up at her, surprise flickering briefly in his eyes before being replaced with a familiar guardedness. "I shouldn't have come," Ethan muttered, his gaze shifting to the dimly lit hallway behind Olivia. She saw the defeat seeping into his stance and held out a hand towards him. "Ethan, wait."

His attention swung back to her, the lines of their past visible in the way he observed her - equal parts fondness and regret. The silence hung heavy between them, carrying the echoes of conversations left unfinished.

"You should stay," Olivia said finally, each word sounding foreign to her own ears. Never in a million years did she think she would be inviting Ethan back into her life after all that had transpired yet here she was, standing with her front door ajar and her heart attempting to mend old wounds. "At least until morning

a testament to their shared history. There was the dusty old typewriter, its well-worn keys a remnant of the nights they spent crafting tales of adventure and romance. A dried bouquet of wildflowers sat atop an antique dresser, each petal a symbol of a day spent in joyous abandon. The worn rug they had bought from the Sunday flea market, now threadbare and fraying at the edges, still held traces of their shared laughter and whispered dreams etched within its coarse fibers. His gaze shifted to the carved cedar chest at the foot of their bed. A treasure trove of memories lay within its robust frame - yellowed letters tied with faded ribbons, photo albums filled with snapshots of a time that felt like a lifetime ago, trinkets collected from their travels around the world. He remembered her smile when he'd presented her with each souvenir, her heart-shaped face glowing with delight as she traced over each object with delicate fingers. The ache in his heart grew more pronounced.

How long had it been since they had shared such moments of simple happiness? He wondered, a wave of melancholy washing over him. He remembered the smell of her hair, the sound of her laughter echoing in their apartment, the curve of her body against his in the bed they used to share. These memories were treasures he held dear, preserved in the vault of his heart.

Ethan's gaze finally fell on Olivia, who was standing by the door, her arms uncrossed and palms open in a gesture that was as much an invitation as it was a plea. It was this woman, this beautifully flawed human being, who had once held his heart in her hands that he couldn't forget.