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Louis' POV
7:15 p.m.
That was the time.
I remember because everything about that evening felt staged — like one of those old black-and-white dramas where the silence was louder than the dialogue. I've always been a dramatic person, or so I like to think. Romantic too, in a tragic kind of way.
But tonight… there was no romance. Only shadows.
It was 7:13 when I first checked the clock. Darker than it should've been for that hour — maybe the clouds decided to linger, maybe the world just wanted to look a little uglier tonight. I was in the garage. Not the kind anyone keeps cars in — no, this one hadn't seen sunlight in years. Dust, oil, rust. And silence. A place people knew not to come to.
And there he was.
