The rain had finally stopped.
Soft rays of sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the Davies estate, bathing the master bedroom in a warm golden glow. The peaceful morning should have been comforting.
Instead, Dwayne couldn't shake the heaviness in his chest.
He stood by the window with a mug of untouched coffee, staring out at the gardens below.
He hadn't slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same thing.
Rain.
A pair of frightened eyes.
Someone shouting his name.
Then silence.
"Dwayne?"
Adeline's gentle voice pulled him back.
He turned quickly, forcing a smile.
"Morning."
She smiled as she stepped into the room carrying the old leather journal Rose had brought the previous day.
"I thought I'd spend the morning going through this."
His fingers tightened around the coffee mug.
"The journal?"
"Mmm."
She laughed softly.
"I can't believe I used to write in this almost every night."
She settled comfortably on the sofa near the window, crossing one leg beneath the other before opening the faded cover.
Dust danced in the sunlight as she turned the first page.
"First day at university..."
She laughed.
"I was so dramatic."
Dwayne smiled politely.
"I can imagine."
"I wrote six pages because my roommate borrowed my shampoo."
"I take it you survived."
"Barely."
She threw him a playful glare before returning to the journal.
Page after page...
Assignments.
Lecturers.
Friends.
Embarrassing moments.
The more she read, the more she laughed.
Watching her smile should have made him happy.
Instead...
Every page she turned felt like a countdown.
Then something slipped from between the pages.
A folded programme.
It landed quietly on the floor.
Adeline picked it up.
"Oh..."
She unfolded it carefully.
"It was from an inter-university leadership summit."
Dwayne felt his heartbeat stumble.
Blackthorn University.
The words were printed neatly across the front.
He looked away.
"Do you remember this?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded casual.
"Of course."
She smiled.
"Our journalism department covered the event."
"I remember being annoyed because the keynote speaker arrived almost two hours late."
She chuckled.
"I even interviewed a few students."
Dwayne remained perfectly still.
"I wonder if I still have those interview notes..."
Without thinking, Adeline reached toward the pocket tucked inside the back cover of the journal.
His pulse quickened.
She frowned.
"That's odd."
"What?"
"There should be photographs in here."
She searched again.
Nothing.
"I know I kept them."
"Maybe your mother misplaced them."
"No..."
She shook her head slowly.
"I remember putting everything inside this journal."
Dwayne forced himself to breathe normally.
"Perhaps they fell out over the years."
"Maybe."
She didn't sound convinced.
As she continued searching, a small envelope slipped from the back cover.
Yellow with age.
Her name was written across the front in elegant handwriting.
Adeline Brown.
She blinked.
"I don't remember this."
Dwayne stared at the envelope.
His stomach dropped.
"Who's it from?" he asked quietly.
"I..."
She turned it over.
"There isn't a name."
The seal had already broken with age.
Curiosity sparkled in her eyes.
She pulled out the folded paper inside.
It wasn't a letter.
It was a newspaper clipping.
The headline read:
PROMISING BLACKTHORN LAW STUDENT DIES IN SUSPECTED ACCIDENT
Beneath the headline was a photograph of a young man smiling confidently at the camera.
Adeline's smile vanished.
"My goodness..."
She traced the picture with trembling fingers.
"I haven't seen this in years."
Dwayne couldn't move.
"Who is he?" he asked, though part of him already knew the answer.
She looked at the photograph for a long moment before speaking.
"My Uncle Jonathan."
Silence filled the room.
"He was my father's younger brother."
Her voice softened.
"Mum used to say he was the cleverest person in the family."
She smiled sadly.
"He loved debates... history... terrible detective novels."
"He was studying law at Blackthorn University when..."
Her words trailed away.
"When he died."
Dwayne felt every ounce of colour leave his face.
"I was only a little girl."
"I don't remember much."
"But I remember Dad crying."
She swallowed.
"Our family was never the same after Uncle Jonathan's death."
"He was supposed to come home that weekend."
"He never did."
Dwayne lowered his eyes.
His hands had begun to tremble.
Adeline didn't notice.
She was too busy staring at the old clipping.
"The university said it was a tragic accident."
She sighed quietly.
"I suppose some questions never get answered."
Dwayne's throat tightened.
No.
They hadn't.
Because the people who knew the answers...
Had buried them.
"Would you like some tea?" he asked suddenly.
She looked up.
"What?"
"I'll make us some tea."
"You've barely had your coffee."
"I know."
He smiled weakly.
"I just need a minute."
Before she could reply, he left the room.
The moment the bedroom door closed behind him, his composure shattered.
He leaned heavily against the hallway wall, his breathing uneven.
Jonathan Brown.
He hadn't heard that name spoken aloud in ten years.
He had convinced himself he never would again.
Downstairs, unnoticed by everyone in the house, Dwayne's mobile phone vibrated inside his jacket pocket.
One message.
No number.
Only a photograph.
Seven university students stood beneath the ancient oak tree at Blackthorn University.
This time...
One face remained untouched.
Jonathan Brown.
Below the photograph were five handwritten words.
"She deserves the truth, Dwayne."