But if Arthur had spent decades controlling evidence, money, and people, then walking away might be exactly what he expected Colton to do.
Colton turned back toward the desk.
"If I help you, you don't get to control the investigation."
"I understand."
"You don't get to choose which evidence is released."
"I understand."
"You don't get to protect Samuel from the consequences of what he did."
Samuel flinched but said nothing.
"And you don't get to ask me to keep anything secret because it might embarrass the family."
Rebecca swallowed.
"Agreed."
Colton held her gaze.
"If you lie to me again, I will hand everything I have to the investigators and let them decide what happens to you."
She nodded.
"That's fair."
He did not trust her.
Not yet.
Perhaps not ever.
But for the first time in his life, he was not allowing the fact that she was his mother to determine what he would do.
He was making a choice based on what he knew.
And that was a beginning.
Darren entered the observatory a few minutes later, followed by Mara.
Colton had not heard their vehicles arrive.
Mara's face was pale with exhaustion, but her eyes were alert. She wore a dark jacket over a simple shirt, and her hair was tied back. When she saw Rebecca, her expression hardened.
"So," Mara said, "we're all pretending this is a family meeting?"
"No one is pretending anything," Colton replied.
"Good. Because I've had enough of that."
Rebecca looked at her daughter.
"Mara—"
"Don't."
Mara held up one hand.
"You don't get to say my name as if it is an apology. You don't get to look at me as if you're proud of me. And you don't get to act as if the years you spent lying to us can be fixed by a conversation in an abandoned building."
Rebecca bowed her head.
"I know."
"No, you know the words. You don't know what it was like."
Colton recognized his own anger in his sister's voice.
Mara had been younger than him when Samuel supposedly died. She had been the one who woke screaming after nightmares. She had been the one who tried to keep Rebecca from collapsing during the funeral. She had been the one who carried a photograph of their father in her wallet long after Colton stopped looking at his.
And she had been the one who discovered that the people she had trusted were connected to the very crimes she was trying to expose.
"What happened to you after you disappeared?" Mara asked Samuel.
Samuel looked at her.
"I went to New Mexico. Then Colorado. I used another name."
"Did you ever think about coming home?"
"Every day."
"Did you ever think about calling us?"
"Every day."
"Did you ever think that we might have wanted to hear your voice?"
Samuel's eyes filled.
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you?"
He looked at the floor.
"Because I was ashamed."
Mara laughed bitterly.
"You were ashamed, so you let us grieve. You were ashamed, so you let us believe we had lost you. You were ashamed, so you decided that your shame mattered more than our lives."
Samuel had no answer.
Mara stepped closer.
"I spent years trying to understand what kind of accident could leave no body. I asked police officers questions until they stopped returning my calls. I went through your old files, your bank statements, your business records. I thought if I could find one detail that didn't make sense, I could find you."
She paused.
"And when I finally did find the truth, I realized that the man I had been searching for had been alive all along."
Samuel covered his face with one hand.
"I am sorry."
Mara stood very still.
"I know you are."
For a moment, it seemed as though she might reach for him.
Instead, she stepped away.
"Being sorry is not the same as being safe to trust."
"No," Samuel whispered. "It isn't."
Mara turned toward Rebecca.
"And you. You knew what happened to Nora."
Rebecca's face crumpled.
"I knew she was in danger. I did not know exactly what Arthur would do."
"But you knew she was in danger."
"Yes."
"And you let her go alone."
"I was afraid."
Mara's voice became quiet.
"So was Nora."
Rebecca began to cry.
Mara did not look away.
"She was afraid, and she still tried to do the right thing. You were afraid, and you chose yourself."
The words struck harder than any shouted accusation.
Rebecca gripped the edge of the desk.
"I know."
Mara shook her head.
"You keep saying that. I don't think you do."
Darren stepped between them before the argument could deepen.
"We need to focus on the archive."
Mara looked at him.
"Don't use the investigation to silence us."
"I'm not. I'm trying to keep Arthur from getting away."
"Then tell us what you know."