She wore a dark blue coat and black gloves. Her silver-streaked hair was pinned neatly behind her head, and her posture was as straight as Colton remembered from childhood. Even at a distance, she possessed the same composed authority that had once made him believe she could solve any problem simply by deciding it would be solved.
She looked older.
Not weak, not fragile, but tired in a way that expensive clothes and careful posture could not hide.
When she saw him, her expression changed.
For a fraction of a second, the woman who had spent years controlling every room she entered looked like a mother who had been waiting for her son to come home.
"Colton," she said.
He stopped several feet from her.
"Rebecca."
Her face tightened.
"I suppose I deserve that."
"You deserve a lot of things. We're going to have to work out which ones."
She looked past him toward the road.
"Did you come alone?"
"No."
"I asked you to."
"You asked me to come here. You didn't get to decide who I trust."
Rebecca studied him for a long moment, then stepped aside.
"Come in."
Colton did not move.
"First, tell me whether there are other people inside."
"There are no armed men waiting for you."
"That wasn't my question."
She exhaled slowly.
"There is one person inside."
"Who?"
"Someone you should hear from before you decide what to do with me."
Colton felt a cold pressure settle behind his ribs.
"Who?"
Rebecca looked directly into his eyes.
"Your father."
For several seconds, Colton could not speak.
Samuel Hayes had been arrested the previous night. Colton had watched officers take him away from the old property. He had seen the handcuffs close around his wrists. He had heard him accuse the others of betrayal.
He had believed Samuel was finally where he belonged.
"He's in custody," Colton said.
"Not anymore."
The words seemed to drain the warmth from the morning.
"How?"
"Because people who have spent their lives buying influence tend to keep a few favors in reserve."
"You helped him escape?"
"No."
"Then who did?"
Rebecca's expression became unreadable.
"That is one of the things you came here to learn."
Colton took a step closer.
"If you're lying—"
"I'm not asking you to trust me."
"Good."
"I'm asking you to listen."
She turned toward the doorway.
Colton followed her inside.
The observatory smelled of dust, cold metal, and old paper. A narrow staircase climbed toward the telescope chamber, while the ground floor contained a small control room and several offices with cracked windows. The walls were covered in faded astronomical charts. A desk stood beneath a bulletin board, and an old brass telescope mount had been left in one corner.
A man sat near the far window.
His back was turned.
He wore a dark coat and had one hand resting on a cane.
Colton recognized the shape of his shoulders before the man turned around.
Samuel Hayes looked older than he had the night before. His face was pale, his beard uneven, and the skin beneath his eyes deeply shadowed. A bandage wrapped his left hand. The confident, commanding figure Colton remembered from childhood had become a man who looked as though he had spent too many years hiding from his own decisions.
Yet the moment their eyes met, Colton felt the old instinctive response.
Father.
The word rose before he could stop it.
He hated that.
Samuel stood slowly.
"Colton."
Colton's voice came out flat.
"You have a remarkable talent for getting out of places where you belong."
Samuel's expression flickered.
"I deserve that."
"Everyone keeps saying that to me. Is it supposed to make things easier?"
"No."
"Then stop saying it."
Samuel lowered himself back into the chair.
Rebecca remained near the door, her hands folded in front of her.
Colton looked between them.
"All right. You wanted me here. Start talking."
Samuel drew a breath.
"I know what you discovered last night."
"You mean the part where you faked your death, helped a criminal organization, and spent years allowing your children to believe you were gone?"
"Yes."
"And the part where you helped destroy Nora's life?"
Samuel closed his eyes briefly.
"Yes."
"Then we can skip the introductions."
Colton pulled out the chair opposite him but remained standing.
"Why did you do it?"
Samuel stared at the floor.
"Because I was weak."
Colton almost laughed.
"That's the best explanation you've got?"
"No. But it's the beginning of the truth."
"Then continue."
Samuel rubbed his thumb over the head of his cane.
"When Red Mesa began, it was not what it became. Your mother had an idea for a network that would connect rural communities with private investment, medical facilities, and infrastructure projects. Arthur Vale provided the money. I handled logistics. We believed we could build something that would help people who had been ignored by the government and abandoned by larger corporations."
Rebecca said nothing.
Colton looked at her.
"Is that true?"
"Partly," she replied.