Chapter 008

When I enter Rogan's office, I have no idea what to anticipate. I feel like I should go back and act as though I didn't hear the rumors going on behind closed doors. However, I am drawn onward by something inside of me that goes beyond the increasing pain in my chest. I've heard enough this evening to understand that Aria's return isn't the only aspect of this. There's more—a truth, a secret that nobody is sharing with me.

Earlier, Rogan had been aloof, his remarks piercing and tinged with an unidentified substance. I could tell Aria was still on his thoughts even though he didn't bring her up again. It wasn't just her, though. Something else was present, something he had been keeping from me. I could sense it in the way his hands shook when he spoke her name and in the way his eyes darted to the window when I inquired about her.

The cool air from the open window chills me as I move deeper inside the office. Rogan is looking through a pile of documents while seated behind his desk. His expression tightens when he sees me, as if he's getting ready for a fight he doesn't want to engage in.

He replies in a harsh voice, "You shouldn't be here," but I'm not going to back down.

My eyebrows go up. "You think you can just push me away every time something gets uncomfortable?" Despite the tempest building in my chest, I force myself to remain calm as I take a step closer. "I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s really going on, Rogan."

Slowly, as though each paper were heavier than it should be, he puts them down. "It’s not that simple, Ava."

"No," I answer, scarcely raising my voice above a whisper, "it's not that easy at all. However, you must give me an explanation.

With his chair scuffing the hardwood floor, Rogan gets up. Now that his eyes are fixed on mine, he's a wall of tension, yet there's something in his eyes that makes me think I won't like what he says next.

He continues in a somber tone, "I don't know what you think you've figured out," but believe me when I say that some things are better left in the past. Some things—people—shouldn't be unearthed.

I squint as my thoughts race. What is he discussing? Why is Aria's disappearance so awful?

"You’re not making any sense," I say, exasperated. "Why do you seem to be concealing something? Why does it seem that Aria's situation is more complicated than you're making it seem?"

He strokes his hair and lets out a sigh. "Ava, you don't understand. I—" His words linger in the air, unfinished, and he stops himself. I feel compelled to reach out and let him know that I'm here and that I want to comprehend. But I'm aware that it's not that simple. Not with him.

With my voice now trembling, I beg, "Then help me understand," "Please explain to me why you pull away whenever I feel like I'm getting closer to you. Aria, what happened to her? What caused her to vanish? Why do I only receive falsehoods and silence when I ask questions?

Rogan tightens his jaw. I can tell he's hiding something by the way he shifts his weight and steers clear of my gaze. "It’s not a lie," he murmurs, more to himself than to me. "It’s just… complicated."

With my heart racing, I take a step forward. "What makes it so difficult? Was she abducted? Did she flee? Is she—" A new notion comes to me, one that stops me cold, and my voice falters as the words begin to form.

Is Aria no longer alive?

It's oppressive how quiet we are together. Rogan remains silent. Rather, he faces away from me, his fingers clenched so tightly against the chair's back that his knuckles whiten.

When he eventually responds, "I didn’t want you to get involved in this," his voice is almost audible. "I didn’t want you to know the truth."

"What truth?" With my heart pounding now, I ask. I feel like I'm about to fall into something far deeper than I'm ready for. "What are you talking about?"

My gaze lands on an old photo stack on the edge of the desk before he can respond. I'm not sure why I hadn't spotted them earlier; they might have been there all along, hiding in plain sight, but now they seem to be the key to everything.

I approach and grab one of the pictures without giving it any thought. It shows Rogan and a younger Aria standing together in front of an unknown residence. However, there is another person in the backdrop of the picture, so it's not just them. Someone you know.

I try to put the face in the picture by squinting, but it's like a puzzle piece that doesn't fit. It feels wrong in some way. Although the backdrop figure is too hazy to be properly seen, the person's shape is unsettling. They appear to be standing just far enough away to be concealed without being totally seen.

"Who’s this?" With a shaky voice, I turn the picture to Rogan and ask.

Rogan's face goes white. He stares at the picture for a long time before turning his head away.

He continues, "I told you," in a suddenly icy tone, "it's complicated."

I'm not happy with his response. "Tell me. Rogan, I'm sick of the games. Who is that individual?

He takes a while to respond. The room seems to be closing in on me for a brief minute. I'm having trouble breathing. I am unable to think. I only know that there is something in this picture, in this moment, that I shouldn't be able to comprehend.

"You don't need to know," he continues in a now-quiet, almost contrite voice. "It’s not something you should dig into."

But I'm unable to quit. I can't ignore this.

Whispering, "Tell me, Rogan," "Who is that person?"

The office door flings open before he can react.

And Aria is standing in the doorway, her expression displaying complete incredulity.