The words didn't echo.
They didn't need to.
"You killed him."
They landed heavy and final, like something breaking that couldn't be fixed.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. The wind dropped, almost respectfully, and the sea seemed to hold still—hiss…—as if it were listening.
Then the woman laughed.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't cruel. It was worse than both.
"Oh, Caoimhe," she said gently, stepping away from the car. "You really are confused."
My hands shook. "Don't."
"You've been through so much," she continued, voice soothing, practiced. "Trauma does strange things to memory."
Serafin snapped, "You're gaslighting her."
One of the men scoffed. "Watch your mouth."
"Or what?" Serafin shot back. "You'll do to me what you did to Liam?"
The man from my memory took a step forward. "Enough."
His eyes locked on mine. Cold. Assessing.
"You should have stayed silent," he said.
"And you should have gone to prison," I replied, my voice hoarse but steady.
A murmur rippled through the group—whisper, whisper—unease spreading now that the word killed had been spoken aloud.
The woman glanced around sharply. "Stop talking."
"No," I said. "I'm done stopping."
Serafin's hand brushed mine, grounding me. "You don't control her anymore."
The man's jaw tightened. "You think this ends with a confession?"
"I think it ends with the truth," I said.
He laughed, sharp and humorless. "Truth is only powerful when someone listens."
A car engine roared in the distance—VROOOOM—then another. Headlights appeared at the far end of the road, approaching fast.
The woman swore under her breath. "Who called them?"
"I didn't," one of the men said quickly.
Neither did Serafin. I could feel it.
The approaching cars slowed abruptly—screech—doors slamming—BANG, BANG—voices shouting.
"What's going on here?"
"Step back!"
My heart slammed into my ribs. "Police?"
Serafin leaned close. "Maybe."
The man from my memory stiffened. "That wasn't part of the plan."
The woman hissed, "We didn't have a plan anymore. She ruined it."
I laughed weakly. "You ruined it eight years ago."
Flashlights snapped on—click—brighter, harsher than before.
"Everyone stay where you are," a voice commanded.
The man turned to me slowly. "You think they'll believe you?"
I met his gaze. "I think you're scared they might."
For the first time, he didn't smile.
An officer stepped closer. "What's your name?"
I opened my mouth—but the woman cut in fast.
"She's disoriented," she said. "We were just helping her."
Serafin snapped, "She's not disoriented. She's accusing him of murder."
The officer frowned. "Sir?"
The man lifted his hands calmly. "This is a misunderstanding."
"Is it?" I said. My voice shook, but I didn't stop. "Because I remember now. I remember you pushing him."
The officer looked at me. "You're saying you witnessed a homicide?"
"Yes."
The word felt enormous. Terrifying. Real.
The woman reached for me—grab—and Serafin knocked her hand away instantly.
"Don't touch her," he warned.
The officer barked, "Ma'am, step back."
Everything moved at once after that.
Voices overlapping. Orders shouted. The sea roaring back to life—CRASH—like it was angry it had been ignored.
The man leaned toward me, his voice low. "You don't know what you're starting."
"I know exactly what I'm ending," I said.
Another officer approached him. "Sir, we're going to need you to come with us."
The man smiled thinly. "On what grounds?"
"Witness testimony," the officer replied. "For now."
The woman looked at him, panic breaking through her calm. "Say something."
He didn't.
Instead, he leaned close enough that only I could hear. "If you keep digging, you'll drown."
The officer pulled him away.
As he passed me, his shoulder brushed mine—thump—intentional.
"Remember," he murmured. "Everyone here has blood on their hands."
Then he was gone, lights flashing—WEE-OO, WEE-OO—cutting through the dawn.
My knees finally gave out.
Serafin caught me before I hit the ground. "Hey. I've got you."
I laughed, breathless and broken. "I said it."
"You did," he said softly.
The woman stared at me from the road, hatred burning through her shock. "You think this makes you safe?"
I met her gaze. "No."
"But it makes you nervous," I added.
She turned away without another word.
The officers dispersed slowly. The town retreated. But the air stayed heavy—charged with something unfinished.
Serafin helped me to my feet. "We need to leave town. Now."
"Why?" I asked. "They're taking him."
"They're taking one of them," he replied. "That doesn't mean the rest will stop."
My phone vibrated in my pocket—bzzzzt.
One last message glowed on the screen.
You spoke. Now live with what follows.
I looked up at the brightening sky, the town behind us, and the road ahead.
For the first time, the silence was gone.
And I had no idea what would replace it.