The lobby stood frozen.
Rain hammered the shattered entrance while nobody seemed capable of breathing.
Good evening, son.
The words echoed through the room.
Caleb stared.
His face had become completely unreadable.
Not anger.
Not shock.
Something deeper.
Something dangerous.
Because after eight years of grief, funerals, questions, and silence—
The dead man was standing in front of him.
Alive.
Gabriel Morrow looked older than the photographs.
Silver touched his dark hair.
Lines marked his face.
But there was no uncertainty.
No weakness.
The man carried himself with quiet authority.
Like someone accustomed to being obeyed.
Nathan broke the silence first.
"No."
Nobody looked at him.
Gabriel's eyes never left Caleb.
For a long moment neither man spoke.
Then Caleb laughe
