Avery's POV
Impossible to forget that look.
Even if he had changed clothes, even if his appearance were different, I would have recognized him anywhere.
The stranger from the café.
The one from the cemetery.
Even though his hair and eye color were lighter, the intensity of his gaze gave him away.
It was him.
I was certain.
My heart immediately raced, pounding too fast, too hard, as if it were trying to break free from my chest. My throat tightened the instant our eyes met.
He was already looking at me.
As if he knew I would recognize him.
There was no surprise in his eyes.
No hesitation.
Just that same unreadable expression—calm, almost familiar… and yet deeply unsettling.
Beside him, the second man stayed slightly in the background. He didn't try to draw attention to himself, but something about him felt strangely familiar. His eyes swept over the room without lingering, as if he were assessing the place rather than the people in it.
But him…
He never took his eyes off me.
"Avery," my mother said.
Her voice was controlled.
Too controlled.
I forced myself to look away from the man and turned toward her.
And I understood.
She knew.
She didn't look surprised.
Not even truly worried.
Just tense.
Like someone who had been waiting for this moment for far too long.
Daniel, on the other hand, looked completely lost. His gaze shifted between my mother and the two men, searching for an explanation that never came.
"Were we expecting someone?" he asked, not really addressing anyone in particular.
My mother didn't answer right away.
The man then stepped forward.
"Good evening, Avery," he said calmly.
Just hearing my name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine.
I felt Daniel's questioning stare on me, while a dull anxiety radiated from my mother.
"It's been a long time," he added, as if we were meeting again after a long absence.
I remained frozen.
I already knew our encounters had never been mere coincidences.
He had told me so himself, the very first time we met.
They never had been.
"You… you know each other?" Daniel asked, growing more suspicious by the second.
The man curved his lips into a faint smile.
"You could say that."
My mother took a deep breath before turning to Daniel.
"They're acquaintances," she finally said.
Her voice barely trembled.
"Old acquaintances."
The man's gaze returned to me.
"Yes," he confirmed softly. "Very old acquaintances."
---
They entered the house and moved away almost immediately, their voices lowering as they disappeared into another room.
Daniel and I stayed behind.
Impatient.
Perplexed.
We paced back and forth like intruders in our own home, throwing furtive—too obvious to be truly discreet—glances toward where they had stopped. The words that reached us were muffled, unintelligible, but their mere presence was enough to tighten the air.
Daniel eventually turned to me.
"You said you knew him…?"
I gave a small shrug.
"Not really," I answered evasively.
And that was the truth.
At least, the version of it I was still able to accept.
Even I wasn't convinced that I truly knew him.
Footsteps suddenly echoed behind us.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
Daniel and I exchanged a glance before straightening instantly. In one almost too-synchronized movement, we headed back toward the living room, feigning a casualness that fooled no one.
As if nothing were wrong.
But my heart was still beating far too fast.
---