The rumble of Ghost's bike echoed in the quiet streets as Erin followed in her Silvia, the city lights casting long shadows across the pavement. She had no idea where he was taking her, but she wasn't about to back down now and Ghost was the only one willing to talk.

She kept close behind, weaving through the late-night traffic, her mind racing with questions. Who the hell was Ghost, really? And what did he know that she didn't?

After nearly twenty minutes before Ghost pulled off into an old industrial lot, away from prying eyes. Erin recognised the area. It was the kind of place that used to be packed with racers years ago, before everything changed. It was quiet now, just warehouses and wide-open asphalt.

Ghost killed the engine and leaned back against his bike, waiting as Erin parked beside him. The cool night air carried the scent of oil and asphalt, but all Erin could focus on was the way he studied her, as if weighing whether or not he should really tell her what he knew. She killed the engine and stepped out, arms crossed, waiting for him to speak first.

"You're a lot like him," Ghost said at last.

Erin crossed her arms. "So I've been told."

Ghost smirked. "That's 'cause it's true. Stubborn as hell, always chasing something." He took another drag before flicking the cigarette to the ground. "So... what do you really wanna know?"

She stepped closer. "Jamie. You knew him better than most. You ran with his crew."

Ghost nodded, expression unreadable. "Yeah. We were tight. He was the best of us."

Erin clenched her jaw. "Then tell me the truth about what happened that night."

Ghost sighed, shaking his head. "You really don't know, do you?"

She gritted her teeth. "I know what I was told. That it was an accident. But I've had this feeling for the past two years that there's more to it."

Ghost pulled out his phone, an older model that had seen better days. He tapped the screen a few times, then turned it toward her. The first image hit her like a punch to the gut: Jamie's GT-R.

Not the clean, powerful machine she remembered, but twisted metal, shattered glass, wreckage spread across a damp British road. The timestamp in the corner marked the night everything had changed.

Erin's breath caught as she swiped to the next image. A closer shot of the car. The front end crumpled against a tree. The airbags deployed. Blood on the driver's seat.

Her hands shook. "Where did you get these?"

Ghost didn't answer.

She glanced up at him, anger and confusion battling inside her. "Who took these?"

Again, no response. His face was unreadable, but his grip on the phone tightened.

Erin exhaled sharply, forcing herself to keep looking. Another image, this time, a page from what looked like a police report. The header was blurred, but she could make out parts of the details.

Incident: High-Speed Collision
Driver: Jamie Calloway
Witness Statements: Conflicting Reports

Her stomach twisted. 'Conflicting reports'? Her brother had died in a simple street race accident. That's what she had been told. That's what everyone had told her.

She swiped again. More images. Diagrams of the crash site. Notes. But it was the final image that made her blood run cold.

A grainy CCTV still. A car, barely visible in the shadows, following Jamie's GT-R before the crash.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "That's not his opponent's car, is it?"

Ghost finally spoke, his voice low. "No."

Erin felt her heartbeat in her ears. "Then whose is it?"

Ghost slid the phone back into his jacket. "That's the question, isn't it?"

Frustration flared in her chest. "You knew all this, and you never said anything?!"

"I didn't have proof," Ghost replied. "And I wasn't sure you were ready to hear it."

Erin clenched her fists tighter, feeling her nails begin to dig into her palms. "And now?"

Ghost's gaze didn't waver. "Now, I think you're ready."

She wanted to press him, to demand how he got the police report, where the photos came from, who else knew, but she could already see it in his face. He wasn't going to tell her.

For the first time in years, Erin wasn't just looking at the past. She was staring at something bigger, something that had been buried. And she wasn't about to let it stay that way.

Erin stood there, her hands clenched into fists, her mind racing through every possibility Ghost had just laid in front of her. Jamie's death wasn't just an accident. Someone else had been there. Someone had followed him.

The thought made her feel sick.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, trying to keep the anger from boiling over too soon. She needed more. More than just vague warnings and shadows of the past.

She turned back to Ghost, watching him carefully. He was leaning against his bike again, arms crossed like he had all the time in the world. But his eyes? They were watching her just as closely.

"You never answered my question," she said.

Ghost raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"How did you end up in the U.S.?"

He exhaled, dragging a hand through his dark hair. "Figured you'd ask that eventually."

Erin crossed her arms. "You're out here warning me about the past catching up, but you're the one who left first."

Ghost smirked slightly, but there wasn't any humour in it. "Fair enough." He shifted his weight and finally answered. "After Jamie died, things got messy. His old crew split, some people started asking questions that no one wanted to answer. And some... some people wanted to make sure those questions were never answered."

Erin's stomach twisted. "You mean..."

Ghost cut her off. "I mean I got out before I ended up in the same ditch Jamie did."

The bluntness of it made Erin flinch. But Ghost didn't say it cruelly, just matter-of-fact, like it was the only option he had left.

"So you ran," she said, watching for his reaction.

Ghost held her gaze. "And what do you think you did?"

That struck deeper than she expected. Erin stiffened. "I didn't run. I..."

Ghost tilted his head. "You left the country, changed everything about your life, and never looked back. That sounds a lot like running to me."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. Because deep down, she knew he was right. She had told herself for years that moving to LA was about a fresh start, about making something for herself without living in Jamie's shadow. But was that really the whole truth? Or had she just been escaping?

The silence stretched between them.

Ghost sighed. "Look, I'm not judging. We all do what we have to do. But you should ask yourself, are you ready to stop running now?"

Erin swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She wasn't sure, but she knew one thing for certain: if someone had been responsible for Jamie's crash, she wasn't going to stop until she found out who.

Ghost studied Erin for a long moment, the dim streetlight catching the sharp angles of his face. His expression had shifted, not just watchful, but something else. Something almost intrigued.

"You're different from what I expected," he admitted.

Erin raised an eyebrow. "What exactly did you expect?"

He smirked. "A grieving sister looking for answers. Someone angry. Maybe reckless. But you?" He shook his head slightly. "You've got Jamie's fire, but you think everything through. That's dangerous."

She frowned. "How is thinking things through dangerous?"

"Because it means you won't stop," Ghost said simply. "Most people chasing the past give up when they hit a dead end. You? You're just getting started."

Erin exhaled, trying to read him. "And that worries you?"

Ghost chuckled, but there was something cautious in his voice. "Worries? No. But it does make me wonder what you're willing to do to get those answers."

She held his gaze, refusing to let him unnerve her. "Whatever it takes."

For the first time, she saw something flicker in his expression. Respect. Amusement. Something else entirely.

He nodded slowly. "Then you and I might be having more conversations soon."

Erin wasn't sure whether that was a warning or something else. But before she could push, Ghost glanced at his bike, checking the time. "You should get back. I doubt your crew will be happy about you sneaking off."

She let out a short laugh. "Oh, trust me, they're already pissed."

Ghost smirked again, swinging his leg over the bike. "Then I won't keep you. For now." He pulled on his helmet, revved the engine, and with one last glance at her, peeled off into the night.

Erin watched until his taillight disappeared before finally sighing and heading back to her car. She had the start of the truth. Now, she just had to figure out what to do with it.

The garage was quiet when Dax pulled up, his black Supra rolling into the lot with a low purr. He hadn't planned on staying out that long, just long enough to clear his head, get his thoughts straight.

But even after the long drive, his frustration hadn't fully settled.

He killed the engine and stepped out, exhaling slowly. The night air was cooler now, crisp against his skin. He just needed to focus. Work would do that.

But the second he stepped inside, he caught Jinx and Rev standing way too still near the workbenches.

His eyes narrowed. "Alright, what the hell did I just walk into?"

Jinx's usual cocky grin flickered for just a second too long before he covered it up. "Nothing, boss. Just, uh... organising."

Dax glanced at the tools scattered across the workbenches. "Yeah. Sure. Because you two are always so committed to tidiness."

Rev, standing a little too casually, sipped his coffee. "You had a nice drive?"

Dax frowned, crossing his arms. "Where's Erin?"

The shift was immediate. Jinx suddenly found his phone really interesting whilst Rev took another slow sip of coffee.

Dax's patience was wearing thin. "Jinx."

Jinx sighed dramatically. "Look, before you get all broody and scary, just remember, we didn't let her go, she just... went."

Dax clenched his jaw, dropping his arms. "Went where?"

"She, uh... may have gone looking for Ghost," Jinx admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

Dax's eyes darkened instantly. "You let her go alone?"

Rev finally spoke up, voice calm but firm. "Like you were gonna stop her?"

Dax ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. "Goddammit, Erin," he huffed under his breath.

Jinx tried for humour. "Look, she's smart. She won't—"

"That's not the point," Dax snapped.

The garage fell silent.

Rev met Dax's glare evenly. "She wants answers, man. You knew she wasn't going to let this go."

Dax exhaled sharply, pacing toward the workbench. He slammed his hands down on the surface, trying to think. Trying to breathe. Because deep down, he knew Rev was right but that didn't make him any less worried. If Ghost had put one wrong idea in Erin's head, Dax was going to have a serious problem with him.