Rihaan
THE ROAD NARROWED LONG before the cabin came into view.
The last stretch was little more than a winding strip of tarmac threading through dense woodland, the trees crowding close on either side as though they had decided the road had no business being there in the first place.
Branches tangled overhead, dark against the fading evening light, and the further we drove, the quieter everything became.
Maeve had barely spoken for the last twenty minutes.
She sat curled into the passenger seat, cheek resting against the window, watching the trees pass in fractured reflections. Every so often, the glass caught her face for a second before the shadows swallowed it again.
I kept one hand on the wheel.
The other rested loosely near the gearshift.
I wanted to say something.
I didn’t know what.
Anything I could offer felt too small after what had happened.
So I drove.
Then the trees opened.
The cabin appeared at the end of a long wooden walkway, tucked into the forest as though it had grown there rather than been built.
It wasn't the sort of place I'd ever described properly to anyone.
From the outside, it looked almost severe in places.
Dark timber ran along the upper level, broken by rough stone chimneys that rose above the roof line.
Wide glass windows stretched beneath the pitched roof, glowing amber now that the evening had settled in.
The lower level was built from thick logs and stone, with broad doors opening onto a wooden deck.
A shallow stream ran along one side of the property, catching the last grey light between the trees.
I pulled into the driveway.
The engine went quiet.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Maeve looked out through the windscreen. “This is yours?”
“Technically.”
She turned towards me.
“What does technically mean?”
“My Mum left it to me.”
Her eyes softened, and it had been enough.
She didn’t ask anything or say anything else.
I got out and walked around to her side.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
I opened the door for her.
She stepped out carefully, taking a second to steady herself before reaching for her bag. “I’ve got it.”
“I wasn’t going to argue.”
“That would’ve been a first.”
I glanced at her.
There it was.
A tiny fragment of the woman I’d been used to.
I smiled.
She looked away.
I took both of our bags from the boot before she could stop me and headed towards the cabin.
The front door opened into warmth.
The first thing that struck me was how unchanged it was. Like Dev had made sure each and every single thing had been preserved, knowing how much it meant to Ma. How much it meant to me.
Dark wooden beams crossed the ceiling. Timber covered nearly every wall, the grain visible beneath the warm glow from the lamps.
The stairs curled upwards along one side of the room, the railing made from twisted branches that Ma had insisted had to stay exactly as they were because they gave the place “character.”
She’d been right.
A pair of leather sofas sat around a low wooden table, softened by cushions that had been there for years. The massive windows rose nearly the full height of the room, looking out directly into the forest.
Even in the fading light, the trees seemed endless.
There was something about the place that made the rest of the world feel very far away.
Maeve stopped just inside.
Her gaze moved slowly around the room. “This is beautiful.”
I put the bags down. “My Mum loved it.”
She nodded, her eyes pausing on me.
I didn’t tell her that this had been the first time I’d been here since she had passed away.
Or how many times I’d stood in that exact room wishing she’d still been here to complain about the heating, even from my house in London.
Or how I’d avoided the cabin because every piece of wood, every photograph, every stupid decorative object seemed to carry some tiny piece of her.
Instead, I pointed down the hallway. “Bedroom’s through there.”
She nodded, reading between the lines that I need a minute.
Closing my eyes, I finally let myself breathe in the scent, my nerves rising as I felt the pull and push of all the memories trying to climb up my throat.
Gathering my feelings, I quietly followed into the room Maeve had stepped in. The bed had been well made, the room clean and lived in.
It had been where the house cleaner had stayed overnight when she came up each month to do a proper clean.
I placed Maeve’s bag near the bed, my eyes landing on her as she inspected the room.
“C’mon,” I said, moving towards the curtains and pressed the button to pull them back. “You can see the stream from here.”
Maeve stepped closer, the glass reflected her face against the darkening forest. “It really is in the middle of nowhere.”
“That was the point.”
She smiled faintly, as more of the tension from earlier left her shoulders.
“You texted Samyra?”
She nodded.
“How’s the pain level now?”
“Five? I think the road trip may have not helped with the physical pain.”
I raised a brow, waiting for her to go on.
“It helped with whatever was going up there though.”
She tapped her temple gently.
“I should hope so,” I replied, leaning close. “I had to listen to all those facts for almost six hours.”
“I thought you didn’t mind.”
“When I thought it would be a couple hours at most. We’ve been travelling for almost two whole days now—how are you not tired?”
“I slept most of the flight,” She shrugged.
“Yes, but you’re also the same person who was knocked out for almost a whole day on-and-off after she had two painkillers.”
“Yeah, about that. I didn’t take any.”
I paused, frowning. “And you berate me for not taking my pain seriously?”
“I just needed rest. That’s all.”
“Hypocrite.” I bit, even though I was amused as hell.
When she only sighed, I frowned. “What?”
“I can’t call you names right now, you’ve done too much today to deserve it.”
“Oh, Trouble, don’t go changing on me now.”
“Annoying.” She replied instantly. “That’s fitting right now.”
“There you go.”
“But seriously, you didn't have to do all that.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
I smiled.
She rolled her eyes. “Still annoying.”
“Get some rest.”
I waited until she climbed beneath the duvet.
I lingered at the door. “Maeve.”
Her eyes turned to me.
“If you feel worse, you tell me.”
“I will.”
“If you change your mind about the hospital—”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Promise?”
She gave me a tired smile.
“Promise.”
I closed the door.
Quietly.
Then I walked back into the open space. The cabin felt completely different when she wasn’t in the room. Too large. Too quiet.
I stood in the middle of the sitting room and stared out at the forest.
The trees had disappeared into darkness.
Rain had started again, soft against the enormous windows.
I pulled out my phone.
There was one person I needed to call.
Dev answered before the third ring. “You got to the cabin safely?”
“I did. Thank you, and thank you for keeping it safe for me.”
“That’s what Ma wanted.”
I nodded, not ready to deal with her just yet. Rubbing a hand over my face, I spoke slowly. “I need a favour.”
A pause.
“What kind?”
“I need you to find someone.”
“Me, or through a private investigator?”
“The latter.”
Silence.
Then a slow exhale. “That’s not the kind of favours you usually ask of me.”
“I know.”
“Who?”
“His name is Roland. Should be about 24-25. You can get a full description from Maeve’s social media, or something. I’m not sure—”
Dev's voice sharpened as he interrupted. “Maeve as in Maeve Knox?”
I looked towards the guest room. “Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“He’s her ex. He broke into her flat to get some cash, but he had a knife,” I replied.
“He threatened that she couldn’t do shit because he had friends in the police force.
But he’d shoved her hard enough for it to hurt, broke her phone so she couldn’t call for help.
She’s got bruises up and down her arm. I haven’t had a chance to look at her back, but I’m pretty sure it’s covered too. ”
The words still tasted wrong in my mouth.
Saying them made the scene sharper again.
The broken phone.
Her against the wall.
The fear in her eyes.
Dev swore quietly. “She doesn’t even to try and report it?”
“No.” I looked down at my hands. “She isn't ready.”
Dev was quiet for a moment. “So what exactly do you want from me?”
“Someone good. Someone discreet. I want a proper background check. Everything that can be found legally. Roland’s history. His connections. His friend's connection to the police. Anything that might explain why she’d be worried about reporting him.”
“You want leverage.”
“I want information.”
“Those are not always different things.”
I didn’t answer.
Dev sighed. “Are you trying to threaten him?”
“No.” I turned towards the window. Rain moved down the glass in thin, uneven trails, blurring the darkness beyond it.
“But it should look like I could.”
Dev gave a short laugh. “That is a very specific distinction.”
“I don’t want him thinking he’s untouchable. So when she is ready to take action, she can do it without fear of nothing happening, and him retaliating.”
“And what happens when he realises you’ve been digging into him? Surely if he’s got friends in the force, someone might get flagged when we look into him.”
“He won’t.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I need you to make sure.” Another silence.
Then he said, “What do I get?”
I almost smiled. After all these years, he’d still been the same.
“Do me this favour and we’re squared—about all of it. Even the journals.”
He paused for a beat.
“You mean that?”
“I swear.”
“Okay.”
I let out a breath, the relief taking over me. “Thank you.”
“I’ll keep you updated.”
“Cool.”
“Promise me one thing, little brother.”
“Yeah?”
“You won’t do anything stupid.”
I looked towards the hallway.
“I won't. I promise.”
Saying our goodbyes, I hung up and texted Oliver and Raina once about my arrival before I slipped my phone into my pocket and stood in the quiet.
The rain had gotten heavier, and I knew that Ma was here with me in that moment.
And for just a few seconds, I let myself relish in that feeling.