Kieran Elliott sat on the edge of a rocky cliff, his gaze fixed on the waves crashing against the rocks below. There was a weight of memories in his eyes, as if every splash of water against the rocks was an echo of that day in the sea caves. You approached him quietly, like a shadow, afraid to break the fragile silence that enveloped him.

"Kieran," you said his name softly, as if afraid it would shatter like glass.

He flinched, but didn't turn around. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white. "You don't need to be here," he whispered, his voice hoarse, as if he had been shouting all day.

You sat down next to him, feeling the cold wind seeping into your skin. "I know you feel guilty. But you don't have to carry this alone."