The Heir
The city was waking when he returned. Pale light bled over the rooftops, catching the edges of buildings and turning them gold against the gray sky. Cole's hands were still on the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his jaw tight. He had been driving for hours, the road unwinding beneath him like a thread pulled from a tapestry. He had left the mountains behind, the old man's words still echoing in his ears. *He believed in you. He knew you could finish the work he started.* The car rolled to a stop at the edge of a park. Cole killed the engine and sat for a moment, letting the silence settle around him. His body was stiff, his muscles aching from the long drive. But it was a good ache, the kind that came from doing something that mattered. He stepped out of the car. The air was crisp,
- Writer
