Present Day
The dining room had gone quiet. Richard's voice faded into silence, the weight of seven years settling over the table like dust.
Ethan sat frozen, his coffee long cold, his hand still wrapped around the cup.
He stared at the table—at nothing, really—his breathing careful and controlled.
Gabriel watched him, his own hands tense on his lap.
Sarah had stopped moving entirely, her hand resting on the back of Richard's chair.
The clock on the mantle ticked. Once. Twice. Three times.
Finally, Ethan's head lifted slowly. His eyes found Gabriel's across the table—wide, searching, disbelieving.
"You." His voice came out barely above a whisper. "You were there that night."
Gabriel's throat worked. "Yes."
"You pulled me out of the car." Ethan's hands trembled slightly. "You saved my father from the bridge."
"Yes."
"You—" Ethan's breath hitched. "You're the one. The stranger who—" He stopped, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. "All this time. It was you."
