Page 21 of Unlocking Melodies

My phone lit up.

Liam

Grove trail. 7 AM. You need to know what happened.

I'd been avoiding this conversation since I arrived, but some reckonings couldn't be postponed forever.

I changed into what passed for casual in my world - designer jeans that had never seen actual work, a cashmere sweater that cost more than most monthly rent payments here. The locals would clock every expensive stitch as further proof that I didn't belong. They wouldn't be wrong.

The grove trail wound behind Rolling Hill Ranch like a postcard come to life, morning mist clinging to the trees like they were auditioning for a movie scene. Everything looked soft, peaceful, completely at odds with the storm in my chest.

Liam waited at an old fallen log, and for a moment, the sight hit like a physical blow. He looked older, more settled into himself, but his expression when he saw me was pure steel.

“Before I tell you anything,” he said as I approached, “I just want to say thank you for coming. This means more than anything to all of us.”

“Because it's Jimmy, I’ll do anything for him.” I said simply.

The words hung in the morning air, more honest than anything I'd said in eight years. Liam studied me for a long moment, then something in his posture shifted.

“Sit,” he gestured to the log. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks. The bags under my eyes cost extra.”

“Still deflecting when things get real, I see.”

“Still calling me out on my bullshit, I see.”

He almost smiled. Almost. “Someone has to. Though these days it's probably some very expensive therapist?”

“Please. I sublimate my feelings into corporate acquisitions like a normal billionaire.”

This time he did smile, but it faded quickly. “You saw him yesterday.”

It wasn't a question. “He doesn't remember me.”

“He doesn't remember anything.”

“Maybe that's better.” The words tasted like ash. “Clean slate and all that.”

“Bullshit.” Liam's voice cut through the morning quiet. “You don't believe that any more than I do.”

He was right. Of course he was right. Eight years of carefully constructed walls, of telling myself I'd done the right thing, andall it took was one blank look from Jimmy to bring it all crashing down.

“What happened to him, Liam?”

The morning mist swirled around us, turning the world soft and strange. But Liam's voice was hard when he answered.

“It was a normal night at first,” Liam started, his words cutting through the morning mist. “Jimmy was working late at the bar. Books and bookings - you know how he gets when he's focused.”

I did know. The way his forehead would crease slightly, how he'd bite his lower lip in concentration. Eight years hadn't erased those details.

“Deputy Ramirez came in. He'd been around a lot lately, asking questions about the town, about local dealings. We trusted him.” Liam's laugh held no humor. “That's the thing about small towns. You trust your police.”

My hands found my knees, gripping until my knuckles went white. Some part of me knew what was coming, but I couldn't stop it, couldn't look away.

“The attack...” Liam's voice caught. “It was vicious. Personal. Ramirez wasn't just corrupt - he was sending a message. Used Jimmy as bait, but whatever he was waiting for never came.”

The morning air felt too thick to breathe. “How did he-“

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