The name sat on the page like a stone dropped into still water.
Elias.
Our Elias.
The one who had driven from Evergreen to help us hang pictures at the foundation. The one who laughed at Maya's terrible jokes and brought homemade cookies whenever we stayed up working through the night.
Silas's son.
I walked back to the hotel in a daze, the journal pressed against my chest. Every memory seemed different now.
The quiet pride in Elias's voice whenever he spoke about doing the right thing. The way he avoided questions about his father. The sudden sadness that crossed his face whenever anyone mentioned family.
Had I missed the signs all along?
He wasn't simply our friend. He was the son of the man whose legacy we were trying to dismantle.
And without even knowing it, Elias had helped u
