Maya POV
Lucas called me at six thirty in the morning.
Not a text. Not a message through any of the usual channels. A direct call, which meant whatever he had found was not something he wanted sitting in writing anywhere before he had told me in person.
I was already awake. I had been awake since five, sitting at my kitchen table with my father's letter in front of me and a cup of tea I had not touched, doing the thing I sometimes did in the early hours when something was unresolved and my brain refused to let it go. Just sitting with it. Turning it over quietly in the dark until the light started coming in through the window.
I picked up on the first ring.
"I need to come over," Lucas said.
"I will put the kettle on," I said.
He arrived twenty minutes later looking like he had not
