Her mind was a battlefield of hope and fear, of what-ifs and should-haves, of maybes and never-agains.
Mallory hadn’t invited her. Not because she didn’t want her there. But because she knew. She knew Savannah would crumble.
She knew that seeing Chase—really seeing him, standing in front of her after all this time—would wreck her.
And now, as Savannah leaned against the fridge, arms crossed tightly over her chest, trying to keep herself together while the storm raged inside her, Mallory scrolled on her phone like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on her best friend’s entire world.
Savannah exhaled sharply, trying not to spiral. Trying to breathe past the suffocating pressure in her chest—Say something. Her fingers curled around the fridge handle, nails biting into the cool metal.
“So,” she forced out, her voice too even, too controlled, “where are you guys going?”
Mallory hummed, still scrolling, too casual. “Not sure yet. Maybe The Hollow. Maybe some place near his hotel.”
The Hollow.
Savannah’s stomach twisted violently.
The Hollow wasn’t just any bar. It was the bar. The one in downtown Asheville that felt like a second home to some and a world away to others. It was weird, but in the best way—the kind of weird that made it feel alive. The warm glow of the lights softened the edges of the night,and the music—just right—filled the space without drowning out conversation.
It was the kind of place where time slowed down, where the clink of glasses and the low hum of chatter wove together like an unspoken rhythm. A place where artists, wanderers, and nine-to-fivers all coexisted in the same dimly lit booths, their lives momentarily overlapping. The décor was an eclectic mix of old and new, a little too mismatched to be intentional but somehow perfect. The drinks were strong, the stories stronger, and the regulars? Well, they were the kind of characters you couldn’t make up.
The Hollow wasn’t just in Asheville—it was Asheville. Strange, inviting, unforgettable.
And Chase was going there—With Mallory.
Savannah’s grip tightened around the fridge handle, white-knuckled, her breath coming faster now.
She was about to say something—anything—to change the subject, to push this unbearable weight off her chest, when Mallory suddenly sucked in a sharp breath.
Savannah’s heart stopped.
Mallory’s eyes widened as she stared at her phone, something flickering across her face—something unreadable, something new.
Something that changed everything.
“Holy shit.”
Savannah snapped to attention, her heart already hammering at the way Mallory’s voice had gone tight, breathless.
Not good.
“What?”
Mallory didn’t answer right away. Her brows furrowed, her expression unreadable as she stared at her phone like it had just betrayed her. Then, slowly, she turned the screen toward Savannah—“Look.”
Savannah hesitated, pulse spiking, the air thick with something she didn’t understand. But the second her eyes landed on the words, her lungs stopped working. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Whispering Echoes on the Sound – A Legacy, now on the Market.
Her throat went dry as she snatched the phone from Mallory. Her fingers tightened around the phone as she scrolled, vision blurring at the sight of it.
The house.
His house.
The dock. The stairs. The kitchen.
Their kitchen.
