KELLAN’S POV
The air inside the pub was thick with murmurings and the strong pungent smell of hops, but it did absolutely nothing to take the edge off the storm brewing inside my skull. I leaned back into the creaky wooden chair, my glass of whiskey untouched as I stared blandly at the condensation sliding down its side.
Across from me, Alex's frustrated stare joined the concerned one where my elbow leaned against the table. "Say it again, Kellan, because I am really sure I must have gotten it wrong the first ten times."
I rose from my slouch to his voice, eyes narrowed in agitation. "I was saying, I saw Olivia. She is alive, Alex."
Alex let out a low groan and rubbed a hand over his face. "And I'm telling you, you're chasing ghosts."
“Don't," I snarled, my hand slapping onto the table. A few of them turned to stare, but I ignored them. My voice dropped to a roughened whisper. "I know what I saw. She looks just like Olivia."