Rose’s hands shook as she stared at the bundle of letters. The ribbon was brittle, frayed with age, but it still held them tightly together as if protecting the words within.
Her father’s handwriting stared back at her, sharp and unmistakable. She traced her name with her fingertips, her chest tight.
Daniel placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to open it now. We can take them somewhere safe.”
But safety was an illusion. She knew it. He knew it. And Elias certainly knew it, standing just beyond the lantern’s glow, his scarred face unreadable.
“No,” Rose whispered. Her voice cracked, but determination steadied it. “I’ve waited long enough.”
She pulled at the ribbon. It snapped, the sound echoing through the chamber like a c***k of thunder. Slowly, carefully, she lifted
