Chapter 6: A Photograph That Shouldn’t Exist

Ethan left the diner with the weight of a hundred unspoken accusations pressing against his back.

The sky had darkened again, clouds rolling in low and heavy, as if Blackwood were determined to smother him beneath its mood. Sheriff Cole’s words replayed relentlessly in his head.

You were the last person seen with him.

“That’s not true,” Ethan muttered, though the street offered no argument.

Or worse—it offered none at all.

He walked without direction at first, passing streets he knew by heart yet barely recognized. Houses stared back with dark windows, curtains twitching just enough to suggest curiosity. Or judgment.

The river pulled at him.

He tried to resist it, but his feet carried him there anyway.

The path leading down was muddy, the scent of wet leaves thick in the air. The water moved fast, swollen and restless, slamming against rocks with a low, constant roar. Ethan stopped at the edge, staring at the surface as if it might give something back.

His phone vibrated.

One bar of signal appeared again, sudden and unwanted.

A message blinked onto the screen.

You remember more than you think.

Ethan’s stomach tightened. He typed quickly.

Who is this?

The message sent.

Nothing came back.

Instead, his phone buzzed again—this time with an incoming call.

Unknown number.

For a moment, he considered letting it ring. Then the screen went dark on its own.

No missed call.

No record it had ever happened.

“Enough,” Ethan said aloud.

He turned away from the river and nearly collided with someone standing behind him.

Mara Reed.

She stepped back, startled, then studied his face.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said.

“Maybe I have.”

Her gaze flicked toward the river. “That thing always does this to people. Pulls memories up whether you want them or not.”

Ethan hesitated, then pulled the photograph from his pocket and handed it to her.

Her breath caught.

“I’ve never seen this,” she said softly.

“Neither had I,” Ethan replied. “And it wasn’t in the house yesterday.”

Mara turned the photo over.

On the back, written in the same heavy ink as the letter, were four words.

Taken the night before.

Ethan felt the world tilt.

“That’s impossible,” he said. “Lucas disappeared two weeks later.”

Mara shook her head slowly. “That’s the story they told.”

She looked up at him, eyes shining with something close to fear. “Where did you find this?”

“In my kitchen drawer,” Ethan said. “After someone went through my house.”

Mara closed her eyes briefly. “They’re starting again.”

“Starting what?”

“Reminding you,” she said. “The way they did before.”

Before Ethan could ask what she meant, footsteps crunched behind them.

They both turned.

Sheriff Cole stood a short distance away, hands in his coat pockets, posture rigid.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” he said.

Mara straightened. “Neither should you.”

Cole ignored her and looked at Ethan. “You find anything else you’d like to explain?”

Ethan held up the photograph. “You ever seen this?”

Cole’s expression flickered—just for a fraction of a second. Enough.

“No,” he said too quickly.

“Look closer,” Ethan pressed.

Cole didn’t move.

Mara stepped forward. “That handwriting,” she said. “You recognize it.”

Cole’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t helping anyone.”

“That’s funny,” Ethan said. “Because it feels like someone’s trying very hard to help me remember.”

The wind picked up, cold and sharp. The river roared louder, as if reacting.

Cole sighed and rubbed his face. “Go home,” he said to Ethan. “Both of you. Before you make things worse.”

“And if we don’t?” Mara asked.

Cole met her gaze. “Then Blackwood will remind you why silence exists.”

He walked away without another word.

Mara stared after him, then turned to Ethan. “That photo shouldn’t exist,” she said. “Which means someone has been lying for a very long time.”

Ethan looked down at the image again—the three boys, smiling, unaware.

For the first time, something inside him shifted.

Not fear.

Suspicion.

Because if the photograph was real…
Then the story he remembered was wrong.

And someone in Blackwood was terrified he might finally realize it.