Rain fell without pause now, cold enough to sting, while Elara stayed fixed above Silas, fingers tight around the paper she'd pulled from the file. Behind them, smoke twisted upward where the tomb had given way, wrapping the remains of the Vance name in silence. A hush soaked through everything.
Eyes locked ahead, Silas stayed put. Not once did he attempt to rise. Down he remained, damp blades clinging to him, spine pressed to cracked stone marked by years of rain. Blood crept outward, seeping past cloth meant to hold it back. As if time had stretched thin, waiting here felt familiar - like an ending long expected.
"Ten years," Elara whispered, the paper trembling in her grip. "Ten years I spent wondering why my life turned to ash. I thought it was a freak accident. I thought it was the
