The photograph was old. Yellowed at the edges. A boy stood in front of a white house. He was ten years old. His hair was brown. His smile was wide. In the background, a woman sat on the porch. She was young. Beautiful. His mother.
Cole stared at the photograph. He had found it in a box in the attic. Old memories. Old pain.
The house in the picture was the house where he grew up. The house his father had sold after faking his death. The house where so many secrets were buried.
Cole hadn't been back in twenty years. He had told himself he didn't need to. The past was the past. But after the meeting with The Architect, after the revelations about Clark, he knew he had to go back.
There were answers there. Answers he needed.
---
The drive took four hours. Cole left before dawn. He didn't
