Adrian
My grandfather had a face built for trust.
That was the only way I knew how to put it. Elder Holt Ward was old and had a deeply lined face, with white hair and eyes that always looked warm and a little tired at the same time. He smiled often and called everyone "my dear child" in that easy, soft voice of his, the kind of voice that put people at ease before they'd even had a chance to decide whether they should be.
He had the whole look and feel of somebody's favorite grandfather like those ones from old stories who always kept candy in a dish and knew everyone's birthdays by heart.
People trusted him immediately. They always did.
I had trusted him immediately too. I'd trusted him without question for years and years, without ever really stopping to look too hard at what was u
