David took a minute to catch his breath and reel his pounding heart in.

  He didn’t look up. Francis was still there, his hand steady in hers. He focused on that.

  “It didn’t end when I came home,” he said. His voice worn thin.

  Light faltered unevenly, not dimming so much as losing its balance. Shadows stretched and shifted without settling. Behind David, a shape began to form.

  At first it was only an outline. Familiar. Feminine. The curve of shoulders he knew by heart.

  It almost looked like her, like Marisol or like the woman in the mirror.

  The two impressions bled together, never quite resolving. The shape stood still, neither advancing nor retreating.

  David swallowed. “I thought I was cured.”

  He spoke of ordinary things,marriage, routine, the comfort of believing the worst was behind him. His words were careful, as if any sudden movement might shatter what little balance remained.

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  The shadow did nothing.

  That hurt more than the others.

  “She came home early,” David said.

  The room seemed to hold its breath.

  “I was in her red dress.”

  The shape sharpened. Features clarified just enough to wound. The familiar outline leaned closer, not in accusation, but in recognition.

  “I’ll never forget the look on her face,” David said. “Not anger. Not shouting. Just… disgust. She wanted it to be another woman, not me.”

  The shadow wavered. Two silhouettes strained against each other within it, one fading, one struggling to emerge.

  “I broke her,” David said, the words heavy and unadorned. “I broke my family.”

  The pinpricks of light remained steady now. No one interrupted him. No one contradicted him.

  Hands found his shoulders. A presence at his back. Silent permission to keep going.

  “We divorced,” he said. “I lost my kids.”

  That was all.

  The raven entered wings stirring the air. It circled once, then again, its motion gentle but insistent.

  The shadow began to unravel. The familiar shape thinned, dispersed, carried away like smoke on a slow wind.

  What remained was different.

  A darker outline at first,then clearer. Taller. Straighter. A shape that matched David’s reflection more than his memory.

  Raven.

  The light shifted. The pinpricks brightened, threads connecting them to the remaining shadow until it no longer stood apart.

  David’s knees buckled. He sank into the nearest chair, breath breaking at last.