Olivia's POV
After everything in the car—the tears, the truth, the quiet, love we shared—we drove straight to my house. My parents were gone, who knows where. Probably some charity event or business gala, or as we can say, their Project ECHO, pretending like everything in their perfect little world wasn't crumbling underneath. Mehusa was home, though. The lights in the hallway were off. She was likely asleep.
I tiptoed through the front door with Sebastian close behind me. My heart thudded louder than our footsteps. We slipped past the living room like shadows and climbed the stairs in silence. I pushed open my bedroom door and closed it behind us. Only then did I let myself breathe.
Then I kissed him.
Hard. Like I needed to remind myself he was real.
Seb's hands came up, cupping my face, and before I knew it, we were stumbling backward. He pushed me gently onto the bed, and our mouths collided again, this time deeper, hungrier. His hands slid beneath my shirt, calloused fingers dragging against my skin. A soft moan escaped before I could stop it. He started kissing down my neck, and for a moment—just one perfect, weightless moment—I forgot everything.
Later, we lay tangled on the bed, catching our breath in the quiet glow of my bedside lamp. My fingers brushed his chest, and I turned to him. "Is Eve alone at home?"
He nodded, chest rising and falling. "Yeah… don't worry. Dad's gone somewhere—another 'business trip,' I guess. I don't want to know. Honestly, it's a relief when he's not there."
He gave me a tired smile, and God, I loved that smile. I bit my lip, unable to help myself.
He sighed, brushing my lower lip with his thumb. "Liv… how many times do I have to tell you not to do that? You know what it does to me."
I laughed quietly, and he leaned in to kiss me again—just a soft, lingering kiss, the kind that said he didn't want to stop being near me.
Afterward, I pulled out the folder—the folder. The one Luke and I found with names, papers, pieces of a past no one wanted us to know. I told him everything. About the man who stopped me that night. About my parents' strange reaction when I mentioned Mr. Patterson. About Vince.
Seb listened quietly, but I could feel the tension building in him like a wave—panic, confusion, anger. All of it flickering in his eyes.
"I don't remember much about Vince," he said finally, voice low. "I saw him around when I was a kid… maybe six or seven. Back when things were still… bearable. After my mom died, he just disappeared. Never came back."
He paused, then added, "Maybe I can find something at home. If there's anything left."
"I'm coming with you," I said immediately.
He stiffened.
"Liv…"
"Don't say no."
His eyes searched mine, torn between fear and love. "It's not that I don't want you there. It's just… it's hard. That house—it's where I lose every fight. It's where I fall apart."
I cupped his face, my thumb brushing under his eye. "Then let me be there when you don't fall."
He exhaled, and for a second, something softened in him. "Okay. Just… be ready, alright? It's not pretty."
"I'm not looking for pretty," I whispered. "I'm looking for truth."
We stayed like that for a while, forehead to forehead. Then I kissed him again—soft this time. Healing.
"Sleep now," I murmured.
He nodded, pulling me close.
The next morning, sunlight spilled across the floor like golden silk. I blinked awake, turning to find Seb still asleep beside me, his hair a mess, his face so peaceful I didn't want to disturb him. But eventually I slipped out of bed and went to wash up.
When I returned, he was sitting up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked at me and smiled—this small, sleepy smile that made my heart ache in the best way.
We headed downstairs for breakfast. Mehusa was already in the kitchen, humming quietly as she stirred something on the stove.
Her eyes flicked up when she saw us, and for a moment she said nothing. Just… smirked. One brow lifted. She glanced between me and Sebastian, then turned back to the stove.
"Well," she said, her voice dry but amused. "At least tell me you used protection."
My face went up in flames.
"Mehusa!"
Sebastian choked on air behind me, half laughing, half mortified.
"I may be old," she said, flipping a pancake with a knowing look, "but I'm not blind. You think I didn't hear you sneaking in last night? You kids are louder than you think."
I groaned, hiding behind Sebastian. "Please stop talking."
But Mehusa's teasing faded into something warmer. She glanced at me again, softer this time. "Just be careful, Olivia. That's all."
After breakfast, Sebastian stood, grabbing his keys.
"I should head home," he said, though I could tell he didn't want to leave.
"I'll come over this afternoon," I said. "So we can look together."
His jaw tightened, that same flicker of hesitation returning to his face. The house still haunted him—I could see it. The walls, the rooms, the memories of every time he'd been hurt.
"I know it's hard," I whispered. "But I want to see it. I want to know where you've been. You're not alone in this anymore."
He nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll be waiting."
And then he left.
Sebastian's POV
I used to hate coming home.
I used to dread it so much that I'd drive in circles, wasting gas just to give myself ten more minutes of breathing before walking through that front door. But today… it felt different.
He wasn't here.
And for once, the silence didn't feel like it was waiting to punish me.
I closed the door quietly behind me and stood in the hallway. I could hear Eve moving around in the living room—blanket rustling, the soft creak of the old chair she always curled up in.
The weight in my chest hadn't left, but it sat differently now. Not crushing. Just heavy. Like something was trying to wake up inside me.
I walked in slowly and dropped into the chair across from her.
"I need to find something," I said, my voice quieter than I expected. "Anything about this Project Echo."
Eve didn't look surprised. She didn't even ask why. Her eyes stayed fixed on the window, watching the raindrops race each other down the glass.
"Then stop looking at Dad," she said softly. "Start with Mom."
I blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
Eve shifted, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "You remember the attic?"
My heart thudded. "The attic?"
"She used to go up there all the time when we were little. Said it was for storage, but she never brought anything down. She'd just sit there, for hours, when Dad wasn't home. Sometimes she'd cry. Sometimes she just… sat in silence. I always thought she was hiding something up there."
The attic.
That narrow, shadow-drenched space above the second floor with the old pull-down ladder. I hadn't been up there in years. Not since Mom—
I swallowed hard.
"Maybe that's where you'll find something," Eve said, her voice lower now, gentler. "About her. About what she knew."
My mind was already spinning—visions of old boxes, dust-covered journals, maybe photographs or letters she couldn't bear to throw away.
"Liv's coming this afternoon," I said, my voice catching.
Eve finally looked at me, and this time, she smiled. "She is?"
I nodded.
"Good," she said, her smile deepening.
"You think so?"
"She grounds you, Seb. And you let her. That's not nothing."
I smiled faintly and stood. "I should shower. And, uh, clean a little."
"Try not to break your neck on the ladder if you go snooping around up there," she said lightly. "And hey—don't take an hour messing with your hair."
I laughed, shaking my head. "She already likes me, huh?"
"Unfortunately."
By the time two o'clock rolled around, I was halfway to losing my mind. I'd tried cleaning the living room, vacuuming places that hadn't been touched in months, but the second the doorbell rang, I dropped everything.
I heard the door open downstairs—Eve's voice lighting up, playful and full of energy I hadn't seen in days. "There she is!"
I moved to the stairs just in time to see Eve wrapping Liv in a tight, genuine hug. Liv smiled, hugging her back with that natural warmth that made you feel like the world might be okay again.
My chest tightened.
How was it possible to love someone more every time you looked at them?
Olivia turned, her eyes finding mine, and for a moment everything else faded. She crossed the room, her steps light but certain, and kissed me without hesitation.
"Hey," she whispered.
"Hey," I breathed, trying not to fall apart from the way her voice softened just for me.
Then she looked around.
Her gaze brushed over the peeling walls, the faded photos, the hollow way this house seemed to hold its breath even when it was empty. I felt the shame hit me like a brick—sharp and sudden and ugly. I dropped my eyes, hands stiff at my sides.
I didn't want her here. Not because of her—but because of what she might see.
Because she'd walk into the same rooms where I bled in silence and learned how to smile through fear. She'd feel the ghosts I kept caged behind closed doors.
But then—
Then she stepped closer.
She didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
She just wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her cheek on my back, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
And somehow, that was worse and better all at once.
Because she didn't need words to understand. She just held me like it wasn't her first time seeing my scars. Like it wouldn't change a damn thing.
"Come on," I murmured, gently taking her hand. "I wanna show you something first."
I led her up the stairs to my room. It felt quieter than usual—like the house itself was holding its breath, watching us.
As soon as Liv stepped into my room, her gaze swept over everything like she was stepping into a secret she'd waited too long to unlock.
"So," she said, turning toward me with a knowing smirk, "this is the room where you used to lay around thinking about me, huh?"
I blinked, then let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, we're starting there?"
She crossed her arms, playful but smug. "Don't lie. I know you did."
"And what about you?" I asked, stepping closer. "You're the one who messaged me first, remember?"
"Exactly," she said, raising a brow. "I had to save you from suffering in silence."
"Right," I murmured, my voice dipping lower as I closed the distance between us. "And now you're standing in my room, all confident like you didn't just look around thinking about everything we could do in here."
She stilled, caught off guard—but only for a second.
Her lips curled slowly. "Oh, I thought about it. Especially that bed."
I raised an eyebrow, moving in even closer. "Want to test your imagination?"
Her breath hitched just enough for me to notice.
I leaned in like I might kiss her again—slow, purposeful—but stopped at her ear, my voice barely a whisper."But not today, love," I murmured. "You'll just have to keep imagining."
She exhaled hard, flustered and flushed in the best possible way. "You're such a tease."
"And you love it," I said, grinning as I pulled back to see her wide-eyed and glowing. God, she was beautiful.
Then she did it again—that thing where she bit her lip without even thinking, like her body was reacting before her mind caught up.
I swore my chest ached watching her.
"You keep doing that," I said, brushing a thumb lightly across her mouth, "and I'm not going to have the strength to keep teasing."
She stared up at me, something unspoken flickering in her gaze. "Then don't."
"Fuck It" I said and I kissed her—slow and warm, with the kind of hunger that didn't need to be rushed. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer until we were tangled in each other, heartbeats matching.
When we finally pulled away, she wandered around the room, fingertips brushing across shelves and old books like she was trying to understand the boy who lived here.
There was a knock, and Eve poked her head inside the room. "Need any help with the clue-hunting?" she asked, eyeing us with a teasing smile.
Liv and I turned, slightly breathless.
"I was gonna check the attic," I said. "Could you head over to Luke's? See if there's anything new?"
Eve nodded. "Got it. But before I go…"
She glanced between us, and then grinned. "Please use protection. I don't wanna be an aunt that soon."
"Eve!" I groaned, cheeks heating.
Olivia burst into laughter, her face flaming red as she buried it into my shoulder. Eve just cackled and waved her way out. "I'm just saying! Later, lovebirds."
Once the door shut, Liv peeked up at me, still giggling. "She's never gonna let us live this down, is she?"
"Never," I sighed, but I couldn't stop smiling.
We made our way up to the attic, and the second I opened the door, a wave of musty air greeted us. Dust floated like ash in a sunbeam, spiderwebs clinging to every corner of the ceiling. I cleared a path, swatting them away while Liv followed close behind.
The small attic window bathed the room in soft light, and for a second, everything looked peaceful. If we were here at night, we could probably see the stars.
I was caught in the thought of stars and silence, of what this place used to mean, when I heard the sharp flutter of paper hitting wood.
I turned fast. Olivia was kneeling on the floor, a stack of old files scattered like fallen leaves around her.
"Sorry," she whispered, fingers scrambling to gather the mess, guilt flashing in her eyes like she'd broken something sacred.
"It's okay," I said gently, already crouching beside her. "They're just old files."
But they weren't just paper. Not to me. They were pieces of a life I couldn't make sense of. Pieces of her. My mother.
"My mom…" I said quietly, eyes drifting to the old floorboards beneath our feet. "She used to come up here a lot. Just… sit. For hours sometimes. I never knew why when I was younger, but now…" My voice faltered. "Now I wonder if she was up here and when she thought about leaving. If she stood in this exact spot, trying to convince herself there was no other way." I looked up at Olivia, my throat tightening. "Do you think she ever thought about taking us with her? Me and Eve? Even for a second?"
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything either of us could say.
But Olivia didn't speak right away. She just stepped closer, her hands reaching for my face, her eyes searching mine like she was looking straight into the part of me I kept hidden from the world.
"She did," she said softly, her voice like a warm thread pulling me back from the edge. "Maybe not out loud. Maybe she couldn't see the way out back then. But in here—" her fingers brushed gently against my chest "—she did. She was a mother. And even if she was breaking, I know a part of her wanted to take you with her. She just didn't know how. And I think... if she were still alive, she would've come back for you. I know she would have."
I felt the tears before I could stop them—hot, shameful, too much and not enough. But then she leaned in. And kissed my forehead.
And God, that broke me.
Because no one had ever kissed me like that before.
Not because they wanted something from me. Not to make me stop crying.
But just to say, I see you. I love you anyway.
My hands found her face without thinking, and I kissed her—deeper this time, desperate. Not for lust. But for connection. For comfort. For her. Because in that moment, she wasn't just the girl I loved.
She was my anchor in a house made of ghosts.
When we finally parted, our breaths were uneven, tangled. Her lips were flushed, eyes a little dazed, but smiling.
"God," I whispered, brushing my thumb across her cheek. "How the hell did I get this lucky?"
"You earned it," she whispered back, leaning into my touch. "Even when you thought you didn't deserve anything good… you still protected everyone else. You never stopped trying."
And just like that, I kissed her again.
Because there weren't words big enough for what I felt.
Eventually, we turned to the boxes, though my heart still beat wild from the feel of her mouth on mine. We sifted through photo albums and notebooks, the air thick with dust and old memories. It felt like digging through someone else's life. One I'd lived in, but never fully seen.
Then Liv pulled out a photograph.
It was me—maybe three or four years old. Wearing nothing but a cheeky grin and a cowboy hat far too big for my head.
She burst out laughing. "Oh my God. Sebastian, look at you."
I groaned, snatching for the photo, but she held it out of reach.
"You were so cute."
"Were?" I raised an eyebrow, smirking.
She paused, eyes slowly scanning me like she was weighing her words. "Okay, fine. Now you're hot. Like… hot-hot. Sexy. But back then? Total teddy bear."
"Teddy bear?" I scoffed. "Unbelievable."
She just grinned, clearly enjoying herself too much.
But her laughter faded as the minutes dragged. The search became slower, more methodical. We flipped through every box. Every corner. Every crevice. But nothing jumped out. No new truths. No answers.
Liv sank down onto the dusty floor beside me with a sigh. "I think that's it. There's nothing here."
"We'll figure it out," I said, more to keep her hope alive than mine. "We have to."
She nodded, eyes scanning the space one last time. "Maybe… maybe your dad's office? There could be something there."
"It's locked," I admitted. "He keeps it shut tight. Always has. And I have no clue what the password is."
Her expression didn't falter. "Then we'll find it. We have to. Project Echo isn't just a name anymore, Seb. It's a trail. We're following it. Together."
God. The way she said together—like it was the only thing that mattered.
I nodded, squeezing her hand. "You really think we can?"
"I know we can," she said, her voice like a promise wrapped in velvet.
We stood, hands still entwined, ready to go back downstairs.
But she stopped.
"Liv?"
She didn't answer. Her eyes were locked on something near the far wall, just above a set of stacked boxes. Slowly, she let go of me and stepped toward it, brushing off the dust, her flashlight now in hand.
"What are you doing?" I asked, moving closer.
"Shh… Come here."
It was darker now—the kind of dark that made everything feel heavier. Still. Like time had paused.
She crouched and pointed the light toward the wall panel.
And there it was.
Carved deep into the wood, hidden so well I would've missed it a thousand times over:
H.79 Palomowa Beach, South 3789 Paradise Island
My heart stilled.
She turned to me, eyes wide. "It's an address…"
My voice was barely a whisper. "It was never just a name."
We stood there, staring at the carved letters like they were a map to another life. One buried beneath the lies. One just beginning to unravel.
I didn't know what we were walking into.
But I knew—if she was with me, I wasn't afraid to find out.