If only you knew HER.

Part 2: Confronting the Past

Anthony’s footsteps echoed through the empty streets, the soft patter of rain masking the sound of his heavy breathing. He hadn’t been back here in years. The warehouse district, once bustling with life, now stood abandoned—its hollow buildings a reflection of his hollow conscience. The darkened streets felt like a path straight into hell, but there was no turning back.

He kept glancing at the letter in his pocket, its weight a constant reminder of the inevitable. The words burned into his mind: Where it all began. The old warehouse was just ahead, the place where they had taken Lily, where they had silenced her forever—or so they thought. His chest tightened as the memories threatened to drown him. He hadn’t wanted to be there that night. But he had been. And no amount of regret would change that.

The rain dripped from the edges of his jacket as he approached the warehouse, its rusted door barely hanging on its hinges. He hesitated for a moment, fear creeping up his spine. What if this was a trap? What if someone had finally found out what he had done? Or worse—what if she was alive? He shook the thought away. No, that’s impossible. She’s dead.But the thought lingered, refusing to leave him alone.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The space was vast, dark, and filled with the echo of his every movement. The old warehouse had once been a hub for illicit deals, a place where powerful people did their dirty work in secret. Now it was a graveyard of forgotten crimes, including his own.

He stopped in the middle of the room, water dripping from his hair, mixing with the sweat on his brow. His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the shadows, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

But there was only silence.

For a moment, he wondered if he had made a mistake, if he had read the letter wrong. Maybe no one was coming. Maybe this was some sick joke, a cruel trick to make him relive the past. But just as he was about to turn and leave, a soft sound broke the stillness.

A slow, deliberate footstep. Then another.

He turned quickly, his breath catching in his throat. The shadows shifted, and there, just beyond the faint light that filtered in through the cracked windows, he saw a figure.

Lily.

Or what was left of her.

Her face was hidden in the shadows, but he could feel her presence, the weight of her gaze pressing down on him like the judgment he had been trying to escape for so long. His mouth went dry, and his hands began to shake.

"L-Lily?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

There was no response. Only the sound of her measured breathing. Anthony’s knees buckled, and he nearly collapsed. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She was dead—he had seen her die. And yet, here she was, standing before him like a ghost, silent and still.

"I didn’t want to," he choked out, his voice breaking. "You have to believe me. I didn’t want to do it. I had no choice."

Still, no response.

The silence stretched on, suffocating him, until finally, the figure stepped forward, just enough for him to see the glint of her eyes in the darkness. Cold. Unforgiving.

"I had no choice!" he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "They made me. You don’t understand what they would’ve done to me if I hadn’t…"

The words died on his lips as Lily’s figure moved closer, slow and deliberate. She stopped just short of the light, her face still shrouded in darkness. Anthony’s heart raced, pounding against his ribcage as panic took hold.

"You betrayed me," her voice finally came, soft but laced with venom. It was unmistakably her voice, but it was colder, sharper than he remembered.

"I didn’t want to," he repeated weakly, his eyes wide with terror. "Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry."

Lily didn’t move. She just stood there, letting his words hang in the air like the smoke from a long-extinguished fire. She had imagined this moment countless times—how he would react, what he would say. But no amount of guilt could bring her peace. Anthony’s apologies wouldn’t erase what had been done. The betrayal ran too deep.

"You had a choice," she whispered. "And you chose them."

Her words struck him like a blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. He fell to his knees, the weight of his guilt too much to bear. "I had no choice," he sobbed, his hands trembling as they clutched at the ground. "They would have killed me. I didn’t want to die."

Lily’s silence was deafening. She knew the fear he spoke of—it had been her fear too, once. But in the end, he had lived, and she had died. And now, here they were, both of them haunted by the same night, bound by the same sin.

"I died for you," she said finally, her voice low and steady. "And now you’re going to help me finish what you started."

Anthony’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face contorted in confusion. "What… what do you mean?"

"You’re going to help me get to them," Lily said, stepping closer, her figure becoming clearer in the dim light. "The ones who ordered my death. You’re going to take me to them. Or you’ll wish they had killed you that night."

His heart sank. He had spent years trying to forget those names, those faces. They were the ones who had pulled the strings, orchestrating the events that led to Lily’s death. He had thought he could escape them by hiding here, in this quiet little café. But now, the past had come knocking on his door, demanding a reckoning.

"I can’t," he whispered, shaking his head. "I can’t go back. If they find out—"

"They won’t find out," Lily interrupted, her voice as sharp as a knife. "Because you’re going to make sure of it. And if you don’t…" She let the threat hang in the air, unfinished but crystal clear.

Anthony closed his eyes, tears slipping down his cheeks. There was no escaping this. Lily wasn’t going to let him go—not until she had her revenge. His hands, already stained with her blood, would be stained with even more before this was over.

"I’ll do it," he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. "I’ll help you."

Lily’s figure retreated into the shadows, disappearing as silently as she had come. But her presence lingered, like a noose tightening around Anthony’s neck. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside the warehouse, the storm had only just begun.