"Depends who's asking."
The man smiled.
"My name is Adrian Harrow."
Jonah stared.
"Edward's son?"
"His nephew."
Adrian stepped closer.
"And you must be Jonah Mercer."
Jonah said nothing.
Adrian looked at the letter in his hand.
"I believe that belongs to my uncle."
Jonah tightened his grip.
"Your uncle ordered six people killed."
Adrian's smile vanished.
"You're mistaken."
"The letter proves it."
"No."
Adrian's voice grew cold.
"The letter proves something much worse."
Jonah frowned.
"What?"
Adrian stepped closer.
"It proves that Edward Harrow was not the man who ordered Black Mesa."
Jonah stared at him.
"Then who did?"
Adrian looked toward the station.
Then back at Jonah.
"Your father."
The words struck like a physical blow.
Jonah shook his head.
"No."
Adrian continued.
"Samuel Mercer arranged the meeting. He identified the surveyors. He provided the route."
"That's a lie."
"Read the final page."
Jonah looked down.
His hands trembled.
The letter contained a sworn statement.
A description of the ambush.
And a signature.
Samuel Mercer.
Jonah stared.
His father.
The man who had taught him to ride.
The man who had held him when he was frightened.
The man who had allowed Caleb to be accused of murder.
Adrian watched him carefully.
"Now you understand why my uncle kept this hidden."
Jonah looked up.
"Why?"
"Because the truth would destroy more than one family."
Outside, a gunshot cracked through the station.
Adrian turned.
Jonah seized the moment.
He slammed the wooden box into Adrian's arm.
The revolver fired.
The bullet struck the ceiling.
Jonah lunged past him.
Adrian stumbled.
"Stop!"
Jonah ran.
He leaped from the carriage and landed hard on the platform.
The guards shouted.
Another shot rang out.
Caleb emerged from behind the freight shed.
"Jonah!"
Jonah sprinted toward him.
"I found it!"
"Move!"
Mara rushed from the baggage office.
The telegraph clerk shouted behind her.
"Miss! You can't just—"
A bullet struck the doorframe.
He dropped beneath his desk.
Caleb seized Mara's hand.
The three ran toward the dry wash.
Behind them, Adrian Harrow emerged from the carriage.
He raised his revolver.
Then stopped.
Edward Harrow stood at the far end of the platform.
He had returned unexpectedly.
His expression was cold.
"Adrian."
The younger man lowered his weapon.
"Uncle."
Edward looked toward the fleeing figures.
"Did they take it?"
Adrian hesitated.
"Yes."
Edward closed his eyes.
For the first time in decades, the financier looked old.
Very old.
Then he spoke.
"Find them."
Adrian nodded.
"Alive?"
Edward stared toward the distant wash.
His voice was barely audible.
"All three."
Adrian frowned.
"Why?"
Edward looked at the empty private carriage.
"Because if Samuel Mercer's sons discover the whole truth, Red Hollow will burn."
By late afternoon, Caleb, Mara, and Jonah reached an abandoned cattle barn beyond town.
Jonah spread the stolen documents across a wooden table.
Caleb examined the testimony.
His face darkened with every line.
Mara stood beside him.
"Is it real?"
Caleb said nothing.
Jonah looked at his brother.
"Caleb?"
At last, Caleb spoke.
"The signature is Father's."
Mara felt her stomach tighten.
"But that doesn't prove he ordered the killings."
Caleb turned the page.
"There are details here only someone at the meeting could have known."
Jonah stared at the floor.
"Then Father lied to us."
Caleb's expression hardened.
"Yes."
Mara looked at the documents.
"Maybe there's more."
Jonah frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Your father confessed before he died. He wanted you to find the truth."
Caleb looked up.
"That doesn't make him innocent."
"No."
She met his eyes.
"But it means he wanted something exposed."
Jonah considered that.
Then he reached for the final letter.
It was sealed separately.
He broke the wax.
Inside was a short message.
To whoever finds these papers:
The account of Black Mesa is incomplete.
The man who ordered the shooting was not the man who paid for it.
And the man who signed the confession did so to protect someone else.
Find the seventh witness.
Only he knows why.
There was no signature.
Caleb stared at the words.
"The seventh witness."
Jonah looked at him.
"Who?"
Mara slowly turned toward the photograph.
Seven men.
Seven signatures.
Six deaths.
One survivor.
She touched the face of Nathaniel Crowe.
"Maybe we've been asking the wrong question."
Caleb looked at her.
"What question?"
"Not who died at Black Mesa."
She looked at the two brothers.
"But who was supposed to die and didn't."
Outside, thunder rolled across the distant mountains.
A storm was coming.
And beneath the Red Hollow courthouse, Daniel Tolan finally reached the end of the drainage tunnel.
He pushed aside a loose wooden grate.
Daylight flooded his eyes.
For a moment, he could barely see.
Then he crawled into the open air.
He was free.
But before he could rise, a voice spoke behind him.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Daniel turned.
Silas Rook stood beneath the bridge.
His revolver was drawn.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Looks like the sheriff's lost his favorite prisoner."
Daniel reached for the iron pipe hidden beneath his coat.
Rook raised the gun.
"Don't."
Daniel froze.
The gunman stepped closer.
"You know, I was hoping you'd try something like this."
He cocked the revolver.