**Emma's POV**

The fluorescent lights in Murphy's Grocery buzzed above my head. I pushed my cart down the cereal aisle, trying to remember if Lily wanted the one with marshmallows or the one with chocolate.

My phone was heavy in my pocket. The text message burned in my brain: *Come tonight. Don't trust anyone. Not even Marcus.*

I reached for a box of cereal and froze.

Someone was watching me.

I felt it like cold fingers on the back of my neck. Slowly, I turned around.

Marcus Lee stood at the end of the aisle.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. Fifteen years. Fifteen years since I'd been this close to him. He looked different—taller somehow, with gray in his dark hair and lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before. But those eyes. They were the same. Dark and intense, like they could see right through me.

He didn't smile. Didn't wave. Just stared at me like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment.

My cart handle felt slippery in my sweaty hands. Run, my brain screamed. But my feet wouldn't move.

Marcus started walking toward me.

Each step made my heart beat faster. I backed up, and my cart hit a display of soup cans. They rattled but didn't fall.

"Emma." His voice was deeper than I remembered. Rougher. "Please don't run."

"What are you doing here?" The words came out shaky.

"Shopping." He stopped a few feet away, giving me space. "Same as you."

"No. I mean—" I gripped the cart tighter. "What are you doing in Havenport? You left. You've been gone for—"

"Fifteen years. I know." Something flashed in his eyes. Pain? Anger? "I came back three weeks ago."

Three weeks. He'd been here for three weeks, and I didn't know. Hadn't seen him until today. Or had I? That feeling of being watched. The shadow outside my window. Had that been Marcus?

"Why?" I asked.

"I bought a house. The old Morrison place up on—"

"I know where it is." Everyone in Havenport knew that house. Big and empty, sitting on the cliff like a lonely giant. "But why come back?"

Marcus looked at the soup cans, the cereal, anywhere but at me. "This is my home."

"You hate this town. You couldn't wait to leave."

"I didn't leave because I hated the town, Emma." Finally, he looked at me. Really looked at me. "I left because staying here was killing me."

My throat felt tight. "That doesn't make sense."

"It will." He took a small step closer. "We need to talk."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Emma, please. It's important."

"I have to get home. Lily will be done with school soon, and—"

"I know her schedule," Marcus said quietly.

Everything inside me went cold. "What?"

"I—" He ran a hand through his hair. "That came out wrong. I just meant—I've seen you pick her up. From a distance. I wasn't stalking you or anything weird."

But it was weird. Really weird. My hands started shaking.

"You need to leave me alone." I abandoned my cart and headed for the exit.

Marcus followed. "Emma, wait. I'm sorry. That sounded creepy. But I've been worried about you."

I pushed through the automatic doors into the parking lot. The cold October air hit my face.

"You don't get to be worried," I said, spinning to face him. "You don't get to disappear for fifteen years and then show up acting like you care."

"I never stopped caring." His voice got rough. "Even when I was gone. Even when I was trying to forget. I never stopped."

Tears burned my eyes. "You left the day after Kara's funeral. You didn't call. Didn't write. Nothing."

"I had to go."

"Why?"

"Because watching you with him was destroying me!" The words exploded out of Marcus. "Because I loved you, Emma. I've always loved you. And seeing you choose Daniel, seeing you marry him—I couldn't stay. I would have done something crazy."

The parking lot spun around me. "You loved me?"

"Love," he corrected. "Present tense. I still love you. I never stopped."

A car honked. We were standing in the middle of the parking lane. I stumbled to the sidewalk, and Marcus followed.

"This is too much," I whispered. "Everything is too much. The postcards and Daniel and the court and now you're saying—"

"What postcards?"

I bit my lip. Stupid. I shouldn't have mentioned them.

"Emma." Marcus moved closer. "What postcards?"

I could lie. Should lie. But I was so tired of carrying everything alone.

"They started coming a few days ago," I said. "They're signed with a K. They say things that only Kara would know. Things about that night at the lighthouse."

Marcus went pale. "Show me."

"I don't have them with me."

"Then let me come to your house. Let me see them."

"No. Daniel is already saying I'm unstable. If he finds out you're at my house, he'll use it against me in court."

"Daniel." Marcus said the name like it tasted bad. "He's the one you should be worried about. Not me."

"What does that mean?"

Marcus looked around the parking lot. Checking to see if anyone was listening. "Not here. Meet me somewhere private. Tonight."

"I can't. I have plans."

"Plans to meet whoever's sending those postcards?" His eyes narrowed. "Emma, that's dangerous. You can't go alone."

"How do you know I'm going alone?"

"Because I know you. You don't trust anyone anymore. Daniel made sure of that." He grabbed my hand. His palm was warm and rough. "But you can trust me. I swear. I came back to help you."

I pulled my hand away. "Help me with what?"

"With remembering."

"Remembering what?"

"The truth about that night." Marcus's voice dropped low. "The night Kara died. Emma, what you remember—it's not the whole story. Someone made you forget. Someone wanted you confused and scared and doubting yourself."

My head started to hurt. "Who?"

"I'll tell you everything tonight. Just tell me where you're meeting them, and I'll—"

"No." I backed away. "The text said to come alone. That I shouldn't trust anyone. Not even you."

Marcus flinched like I'd slapped him. "What?"

"The message. It said—" I stopped. His face had changed. Gone from hurt to something else. Something that made my stomach twist.

"What else did the message say?" he asked carefully.

"Nothing. I have to go."

I tried to walk away, but Marcus grabbed my arm. Not hard. Not like he wanted to hurt me. But firm enough to stop me.

"Emma, listen to me. Whoever's sending those messages is playing a game. They want you scared and alone and making bad choices. Don't fall for it."

"Let go."

"I'm serious. If you go to that meeting, you could get hurt. Or worse."

"Worse than what? Losing my daughter? Going crazy? Being alone forever?" My voice cracked. "I don't have anything left to lose."

"You have Lily."

That stopped me. He was right. Lily was everything.

"Which is why I have to go," I said quietly. "Because someone knows the truth about that night. And if Daniel finds out what really happened—if he can prove I'm lying about my memories—he'll take her away forever."

Marcus stared at me for a long moment. Then he let go of my arm.

"I can't stop you," he said. "But I can give you something. Information. About what really happened fifteen years ago."

"Tell me now."

"Not here. Meet me at my house. Six o'clock. Before your midnight meeting. Let me show you what I know." He pulled a card from his wallet and pressed it into my hand. "My address. Emma, I'm not the enemy. I never was."

He walked away before I could answer. Got into a black truck and drove off.

I looked down at the card. His name. His address. His phone number.

And written on the back in pen: *She's not dead. She's been waiting. And Emma—so have I.*

My phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number.

*I saw you talking to him. Did he tell you about the promise? About what he did? About why I had to disappear? Come tonight, and I'll tell you what Marcus won't. He's hiding something. Something that will change everything. —K*

I stood in the parking lot, Marcus's card in one hand and my phone in the other.

Two meetings. Two people claiming they had answers.

One of them was lying.

But which one?

And what would happen when I found out the truth?