The town hadn't changed much over the years. The same diners, the same chipped sidewalks, and the same tight-lipped people who acted as if high school drama was sacred gospel.
Eli leaned against the edge of the coffee shop counter, scanning the crowd. He had intentionally picked this place—central, casual, and full of familiar faces. If anyone knew anything about Jesse's final days, they'd be here.
"Eli Carter, as I live and breathe," a voice chirped behind him.
He turned to see Ashley Wren—former cheerleader, current lifestyle blogger with two kids and a divorce she didn't talk about. Her smile faltered slightly as her eyes flicked over his face, as if unsure whether to hug him or run.
"Hey, Ash," Eli said.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I saw you at the reunion. I wasn't sure you'd come back."
"Neither was I." He gave a small smile. "Got a minute?"
Minutes turned into hours. One coffee became two, and then Ashley started talking about Jesse.
"I remember that week like it just happened," she said, stirring her drink. "He wasn't acting right. He was twitchy, avoiding people. I asked if he was okay, and he just said, 'People are hiding things.' That scared me a little."
"Did he say who?" Eli asked.
"No. But he fought with someone a few days before…" She trailed off.
Eli leaned forward. "Who?"
Ashley bit her lip. "Eric. Eric McDaniels. The football captain. Jesse cornered him in the locker room. He said he knew something—something about that night behind the field. I wasn't there, but the team talked."
"What did Eric say?"
"That Jesse was losing it. Making stuff up. But he looked rattled."
The name hit Eli like a fist. Eric McDaniels—arrogant, golden-boy Eric. Untouchable, and now maybe part of the lie.
Eli thanked Ashley and left, his heart pounding.
Noah was waiting on the porch of Eli's rented cottage. He leaned against the railing, arms crossed, his jaw tight.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice like gravel.
Eli dropped his bag onto the steps. "Talking to Ashley. She said Jesse fought with Eric McDaniels days before the crash."
Noah's expression didn't change. "Why are you doing this?"
"What?"
"This crusade." He stepped forward, his voice raw with pain. "You come back after all these years, dragging up ghosts like you weren't the one who left."
Eli's eyes flashed. "Don't twist this, Noah. I left because Jesse died, and everyone pretended it was an accident."
"Because pretending was easier than breaking."
"Easier for you, maybe. You moved on. You buried it."
"You think I moved on?" Noah's voice cracked. "I didn't sleep for months. I saw Jesse's face every time I closed my eyes. And you disappeared without a word. No call, no goodbye, not even a text."
Eli's chest tightened. "Because being near you hurts. You were all I had left of him."
Silence fell—sharp, tense, and emotional.
Noah turned away, running a hand through his hair. "I can't do this again, Eli. Digging up the past. What if it's worse than we imagined? What if we find out Jesse—" He stopped, breathing hard.
"Jesse didn't just die," Eli said. "He knew something. Something he wasn't supposed to. That's why he left the letter. That's why he recorded the video."
Noah looked at him then, his eyes rimmed with red, his voice a whisper. "And what if the truth ruins everything else we have left?"
Eli didn't answer. He couldn't, because deep down, he feared the same thing. But fear had kept them silent for too long.The town hadn't changed much over the years. The same diners, the same chipped sidewalks, and the same tight-lipped people who acted as if high school drama was sacred gospel.
Eli leaned against the edge of the coffee shop counter, scanning the crowd. He had intentionally picked this place—central, casual, and full of familiar faces. If anyone knew anything about Jesse's final days, they'd be here.
"Eli Carter, as I live and breathe," a voice chirped behind him.
He turned to see Ashley Wren—former cheerleader, current lifestyle blogger with two kids and a divorce she didn't talk about. Her smile faltered slightly as her eyes flicked over his face, as if unsure whether to hug him or run.
"Hey, Ash," Eli said.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "I saw you at the reunion. I wasn't sure you'd come back."
"Neither was I." He gave a small smile. "Got a minute?"
Minutes turned into hours. One coffee became two, and then Ashley started talking about Jesse.
"I remember that week like it just happened," she said, stirring her drink. "He wasn't acting right. He was twitchy, avoiding people. I asked if he was okay, and he just said, 'People are hiding things.' That scared me a little."
"Did he say who?" Eli asked.
"No. But he fought with someone a few days before…" She trailed off.
Eli leaned forward. "Who?"
Ashley bit her lip. "Eric. Eric McDaniels. The football captain. Jesse cornered him in the locker room. He said he knew something—something about that night behind the field. I wasn't there, but the team talked."
"What did Eric say?"
"That Jesse was losing it. Making stuff up. But he looked rattled."
The name hit Eli like a fist. Eric McDaniels—arrogant, golden-boy Eric. Untouchable, and now maybe part of the lie.
Eli thanked Ashley and left, his heart pounding.
Noah was waiting on the porch of Eli's rented cottage. He leaned against the railing, arms crossed, his jaw tight.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice like gravel.
Eli dropped his bag onto the steps. "Talking to Ashley. She said Jesse fought with Eric McDaniels days before the crash."
Noah's expression didn't change. "Why are you doing this?"
"What?"
"This crusade." He stepped forward, his voice raw with pain. "You come back after all these years, dragging up ghosts like you weren't the one who left."
Eli's eyes flashed. "Don't twist this, Noah. I left because Jesse died, and everyone pretended it was an accident."
"Because pretending was easier than breaking."
"Easier for you, maybe. You moved on. You buried it."
"You think I moved on?" Noah's voice cracked. "I didn't sleep for months. I saw Jesse's face every time I closed my eyes. And you disappeared without a word. No call, no goodbye, not even a text."
Eli's chest tightened. "Because being near you hurts. You were all I had left of him."
Silence fell—sharp, tense, and emotional.
Noah turned away, running a hand through his hair. "I can't do this again, Eli. Digging up the past. What if it's worse than we imagined? What if we find out Jesse—" He stopped, breathing hard.
"Jesse didn't just die," Eli said. "He knew something. Something he wasn't supposed to. That's why he left the letter. That's why he recorded the video."
Noah looked at him then, his eyes rimmed with red, his voice a whisper. "And what if the truth ruins everything else we have left?"
Eli didn't answer. He couldn't, because deep down, he feared the same thing. But fear had kept them silent for too long.