Daniel POV
"Been a while, Danny."
"Ten years," I said, the nickname hitting like a memory, us racing bikes, stealing cookies from her kitchen. "You dropped off the map, Viv. I looked for you."
She pushed her glass away, turning to face me fully. "You actually looked for me? Why?"
"Because you mattered," I said simply. "One day you were there, the next... nothing. Your dad wouldn't talk about it. Said you ran off."
Her face tightened, and she took a swig of whiskey. "Had to. After Bella… things got bad."
I nodded, leaning closer to hear over the bar's din. "I heard about the pool. I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well," she muttered, staring at her glass. "Sorry doesn't fix it."
The bartender, a guy with a beard and a bored look, slid another beer my way. "On the house," he said. "You two look like you need it."
"Thanks," I said, pushing it toward Vivian. "You want this? Looks like you're running low."
She shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "Still trying to take care of me, huh?"
"Old habits," I said, clinking my bottle against her glass. "So, catch me up. Where've you been?"
She sighed, rubbing her pocket like it held something precious. "Everywhere, nowhere. Ran away at twelve, bounced around odd jobs. Waitressing, mostly. Landed in New York, got evicted, and now I'm crashing with this guy, Evans Newton."
"Newton?" I frowned, the name ringing a bell, some big-shot businessman. "As in, mansion-and-money Newton?"
"That's him," she said, her voice flat. "He was a regular at my bar, helped me out when I hit rock bottom. Thought maybe…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Doesn't matter."
"Sounds like there's more to that story," I pressed gently, sensing her hesitation. "What happened between you two?"
She traced the rim of her glass. "Nothing happened. That was the problem. I thought... I don't know what I thought. That he cared, maybe."
I wanted to press, but her expression stopped me. "Sounds like a story," I said instead. "You okay there?"
"Not even close," she said, downing her whiskey. "Last night, at his birthday party, something happened."
"What kind of something?" I asked, leaning in, the bar's noise fading to a hum.
She hesitated, her fingers tightening on the empty glass. "I saw Bella."
I froze, my beer halfway to my mouth. "Bella? Your sister?"
"Yeah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She walked in with Evans, his arm around her. Called her his partner. She's alive, Daniel."
"That's impossible," I said, setting my bottle down hard. "She drowned. I was at the funeral, empty casket, but still."
"I know!" she snapped, her eyes flashing. "I was there that day, at the pool. I saw her go under. But it was her, I swear. Except… she looked at me like she hated me."
"Are you absolutely sure it was her?" I asked, trying to process this. "Could it be someone who looks like her?"
She pulled something from her pocket, a pink hair clip. "This fell out of her hair when she turned away from me. It's hers, Daniel. The same one she wore that day."
I took the clip, studying it. "And no one else saw her before? In all these years?"
"Not that I know of," she said, taking the clip back. "She's been with Evans for months, according to what I overheard. Living some perfect life while I thought she was dead."
My mind raced, pieces clicking. "Viv, I never bought the official story. No body was ever found. I've been digging into it for years, off and on."
Her head snapped up. "What do you mean, digging?"
I glanced around, lowering my voice. "After you ran, I started asking questions. The police report was thin, said she drowned, case closed. But no body? That's not an accident. Someone covered something up."
"Like who?" she asked, her voice urgent. "Dad? The cops?"
"Maybe," I said, rubbing my jaw. "Your dad was a wreck, but he shut down questions fast. And there was a witness, a groundskeeper, who said he saw a car near the pool that day. Black sedan, no plates. Then he clammed up, like someone got to him."
Vivian's eyes widened. "I saw a car too. That night, outside our house. I thought I was imagining it."
She gripped my arm suddenly. "Wait, what happened to my father? Is he still..."
"He's alive," I nodded. "Still in the old house. Drinks too much, barely leaves. I check on him sometimes."
"You check on him?" she asked, surprise in her voice. "Why would you do that?"
I shrugged. "Someone had to. After you left, he just... collapsed. Wouldn't talk about either of you."
She looked away, guilt crossing her face. "I couldn't stay. He blamed me for what happened to Bella."
"Did he? Or did you blame yourself?" I asked quietly.
She didn't answer, just waved to the bartender for another drink. He poured it, eyeing us warily.
"Take it easy, folks," he warned. "Drama's bad for business."
"Sorry," I said, sliding him a twenty. "We'll keep it down."
When he moved away, I turned back to Vivian. "You weren't responsible, Viv. You were a kid."
"I was supposed to watch her," she whispered. "Mom was gone, Dad was working. It was my job."
"You were twelve," I insisted. "Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault."
She took a long breath. "Maybe. But now she's back, and clearly thinks differently."
"Then we find out why," I said, my voice firm. "You weren't the only one who lost her, you know. She was my friend too."
Vivian nodded slowly. "You're right. I'm sorry, I forgot you two were close."
"Used to help her with homework," I said, smiling at the memory. "She'd bring those math problems over, determined to figure them out."
"She always liked you," Vivian said, a hint of something in her voice. "Said you were nicer than the other boys."
"You weren't," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "You used to throw pinecones at me."
She laughed, a real one this time. "Only because you deserved it."
"Probably," I admitted, finishing my beer. "You weren't an easy kid to keep up with."
Her smile faded. "And now look at me. Homeless, jobless, drinking in a dive bar."
"We all hit rough patches," I said. "But that's not who you are."
"Something's off, Viv. Bella showing up now, with Newton? That's no coincidence."
She leaned closer, her voice fierce. "Then we find out what happened. I need to know why she's alive, why she's with him, why she hates me."
"Deal," I said, holding her gaze. "But we're smart about it. Newton's got money, power. We need evidence."
"Where do we start?" she asked, her hands fidgeting.
"Old records, for one," I said. "Police reports, news articles. I've got some contacts from my PI work. And we talk to people who were there, neighbors, staff."
"The groundskeeper," she said suddenly. "What was his name? Is he still around?"
"Marcus Wells," I replied. "Last I heard, he moved upstate. Got a job at some private estate."
"Can you find him?" she asked, hope creeping into her voice.
I nodded. "I can try. Might take a few days."
"What about Bella and Evans?" she asked. "Nate said they left the country on a business trip."
"Perfect timing," I said. "Gives us space to work."
She nodded, a spark in her eyes I hadn't seen since we were kids. "I'm in. Whatever it takes."
"Good," I said, feeling a tug in my chest. She was still the Vivian I'd known, stubborn, brave, even when she was breaking. "But not here. Too loud."
"Let's walk," she said, sliding off the stool. She tossed a few bucks on the counter, and I followed her out, the night air cool against my skin. We headed down the block, the bar's neon fading behind us.
"Still can't believe it's you," she said, glancing at me. "You used to trip over your own feet racing me."
"And you cheated every time," I shot back, nudging her shoulder. "Good to see you haven't changed."
"Wish I hadn't," she said, her voice softening. "Thanks for not giving up on me."
"Never did," I said, meaning it. The way she looked at me, raw and open, stirred something, memories of us as kids, maybe more. But now wasn't the time.
We stopped at a corner, the city humming around us. "So, tomorrow," she said, squaring her shoulders. "We start digging?"
"Tomorrow," I agreed, pulling out my phone. "Give me your number. I'll text you when I've got something."
She rattled off her digits, and I saved them, my fingers lingering. "Don't disappear again, Viv," I said, half-joking.
"Not this time," she said, her smile small but real. "We've got work to do."
"Where are you staying tonight?" I asked, concerned. "If you don't want to go back to Newton's..."
She hesitated. "A friend offered her couch. Clara. She works at the mansion. I could stay there for the night."
"I can give you a ride," I offered. "My car's a few blocks away."
"Always the gentleman," she teased, but her eyes were grateful. "I'd like that."
As we walked toward my car, she suddenly stopped. "Daniel, what if Bella's not who I think she is? What if I'm wrong?"
I took her hand, squeezing it once. "Then we figure that out too. Either way, I've got your back."
"Like old times," she said, squeezing back before letting go.
"Better than old times," I replied. "This time, we're not kids. And we're not giving up until we know the truth."