“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Colton took the envelope.
His hands shook as he opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded twice.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
Colton,
If you are reading this, it means Dad has come back, and I failed to stop what he started.
You are going to hate me for leaving.
Please hate me alive.
Do not look for me.
Do not trust anyone from Red Mesa.
And there is something else I never had the courage to tell you.
The night Dad supposedly died, he wasn't running from them. He was running for them.
I found records at the hospital. He helped them choose witnesses. He gave them names.
Mine was next.
But there is one thing they want more than me.
Something you have without knowing it.
If you remember the summer at Grandma's house, remember where we buried the stars.
I love you.
Mara.
Colton read the letter twice.
Then a third time.
He could hear the old refrigerator humming in the corner. He could hear Lila shifting in her sleep. He could hear Darren breathing quietly near the window.
But the only words that mattered were the ones written by his sister.
Please hate me alive.
He pressed the letter against his chest for a moment.
Then he lowered it.
“Where we buried the stars,” he whispered.
A memory returned.
He was thirteen. Mara was nine. Their grandmother had given them an old coffee tin and told them to make a time capsule.
They had filled it with photographs, baseball cards, a plastic necklace covered in silver stars, and drawings Mara had made on the back of grocery receipts.
They had buried it beneath the old apple tree behind the house.
The property had been abandoned for years.
Colton looked at Darren.
“I know where we're going.”
Before anyone could move, Lila sat up.
“Someone's outside.”
Everyone turned.
A shadow crossed the trailer window.
Then another.
Darren reached beneath his jacket.
“Back door.”
Boone shook his head.
“No time.”
Three gentle taps sounded against the front door.
Colton went still.
He knew that rhythm.
Three taps, followed by a pause, then one more.
Samuel used to knock that way when he came home late and expected the children to open the door.
A man's voice followed.
“Colton.”
Eleven years had passed.
But a son did not forget his father's voice.
“Open the door.”
Colton did not move.
The lock gave way beneath a single hard impact.
The door swung inward.
Two men entered first.
Then Samuel Hayes stepped through the doorway.
He was older, thinner, and deeply lined around the eyes.
But he was unmistakably alive.
For several seconds, Colton could do nothing but stare at the ghost who had shaped half his life.
Samuel smiled.
“Well,” he said. “Look at you.”
His eyes moved toward Lila.
The smile disappeared.
“You brought the wrong child.”
Colton stepped in front of her.
“What does that mean?”
Samuel ignored him.
“Where is Mara?”
Colton's heart hammered.
“You tell me.”
Samuel studied him, and for the first time Colton saw genuine uncertainty in his father's face.
“You don't know where she is?”
“No.”
Samuel turned toward one of the men behind him.
“Call Victor.”
The man stepped outside.
Colton watched his father carefully.
“You left the knife at her house.”
Samuel said nothing.
“The music box too.”
A faint smile returned to Samuel's face.
“She always did love that ridiculous thing.”
Colton felt anger rising through him.
“You've been alive for eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin.”
Samuel shrugged.
“You buried what they gave you.”
“You let me believe my sister was dead.”
“Your sister made her own choices.”
Colton took a step toward him.
“Don't you dare.”
Samuel's eyes hardened.
“You think you know what happened? You think you understand any of this?”
“I know that Mara was afraid of you.”
Samuel's expression changed.
For an instant, something like regret passed across his face.
Then it vanished.
“She stole something from me.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
Colton thought of the letter.
“Names?”
“Names. Payments. Judges, officers, contractors. Everyone Arthur Vale ever bought.”
“So Mara was telling the truth.”
“About some things.”
“What did she hide?”
Samuel looked at him for a long moment.
Then he smiled.
“Insurance.”
Colton felt a chill.
“Where is it?”
Samuel glanced toward Lila.
“Ask the girl.”
Everyone turned.
Lila was standing beside the chair, clutching her rabbit.
Her face was pale, but she did not look away.
“Mommy said I should only give it to Uncle Cole.”
Colton stared at her.
“Uncle?”
She nodded.
“She calls you Uncle Cole when she talks about you.”
The words hurt in a way he could not explain.
Mara had spoken about him.
All these years, while he searched for her, she had carried memories of him into a life he knew nothing about.