Chapter 13 - The Choice at Saint Aurelia
Arthur returned to the cathedral wounded.
Kora came with him.
So did Wyatt.
No army.
No convoy.
Evelyn had demanded three people.
Arthur.
Kora.
Richard.
Arthur brought Wyatt instead of Richard.
His mother noticed immediately.
“You never obeyed.”
Arthur walked toward Beatrice.
“Let her go.”
Evelyn held the detonator.
“The vault dies if I release this.”
“Then release it.”
She blinked.
“You don't care?”
“Not more than her.”
Beatrice stared at him.
Evelyn laughed.
“Richard built his whole life around that evidence.”
“I’m not Richard.”
“No.”
Pain crossed her face.
“You're Elias.”
Arthur shook his head.
“I'm Arthur.”
For once, bloodline meant nothing.
Not Pendleton.
Not Miller.
His choices were his identity.
Kora moved toward Beatrice.
Evelyn raised the detonator.
“Stop.”
Kora stopped.
Her voice came rough.
“You kept me alive because you thought I was useful.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed my voice.”
“I punished betrayal.”
“You killed my father.”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
“No.”
Kora froze.
“What?”
“I didn't kill Thomas.”
“Richard said—”
“Richard lies too.”
Arthur felt the old pattern returning.
One secret replacing another.
“Who killed him?”
Evelyn looked at Wyatt.
Wyatt frowned.
“My father?”
“No.”
She looked at Arthur.
“Silas.”
Arthur went still.
Silas had claimed he tried to save everyone.
Perhaps guilt explained why.
Evelyn continued.
“Thomas discovered Silas had been selling information to Conrad. Silas panicked.”
Kora closed her eyes.
Arthur saw another piece of her world collapse.
But this time she remained standing.
“No more.”
Everyone looked at her.
Kora stepped forward.
“No more dead people telling us how to live.”
Evelyn stared.
Kora pointed toward Beatrice.
“Release her.”
Something about Kora’s damaged voice changed the room.
Evelyn’s hand trembled.
Arthur saw it.
His mother was tired.
Decades of war had hollowed her out.
“Mom.”
Evelyn looked at him.
It was the first time he had called her that.
Her eyes filled.
Arthur approached slowly.
“You can stop.”
“They'll escape justice.”
“Some might.”
“They'll rebuild.”
“Then we keep fighting legally.”
She laughed bitterly.
“You believe in courts now?”
“I believe killing Beatrice won't save anyone.”
Beatrice began crying.
Evelyn looked at her.
For the first time, she seemed to see a person rather than a Whitmore.
Her thumb moved away from the trigger.
Then a shot rang out.
Evelyn jerked.
The detonator fell.
Arthur caught it.
Kora ran to Beatrice.
Wyatt aimed toward the balcony.
Silas stood there.
Gun smoking.
Arthur stared.
Silas shouted, “She was going to destroy everything!”
Evelyn collapsed.
Arthur knelt beside her.
Blood spread across her shoulder.
Alive.
Silas ran.
Wyatt pursued him.
Kora freed Beatrice.
Arthur handed the detonator to a bomb technician waiting outside.
Then he followed Wyatt despite his wound.
Silas descended into the crypt.
Arthur cornered him beside the vault.
“Thomas Hastings.”
Silas stopped.
Arthur said the name again.
Silas lowered his gun.
“I didn't mean to kill him.”
“But you did.”
“He was going to expose me.”
“So you buried him.”
Silas cried.
The man Arthur had called uncle became suddenly small.
“I spent fourteen years trying to fix it.”
“You don't fix murder by hiding it.”
Silas nodded.
“I know.”
He placed the gun down.
Arthur expected surrender.
Instead Silas reached into his pocket.
A photograph.
He handed it over.
Thomas Hastings stood beside a young Kora.
On the back was an address.
Arthur frowned.
“What is this?”
“Thomas kept a separate archive.”
“Where?”
Silas pointed to the address.
“He knew none of us could be trusted.”
Kora reached them.
She saw her father's handwriting.
Her hands shook.
Silas looked at her.
“I killed him.”
Kora stared.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
No forgiveness.
No revenge.
Just truth.
Federal agents took Silas.
Arthur looked at the address.
Kora whispered, “That's my childhood house.”
Arthur remembered it had burned after Thomas disappeared.
Apparently not everything had.
They drove there before sunrise.
Only foundations remained.
Kora walked toward an old oak tree.
“My father buried time capsules here.”
They dug.
The shovel struck metal.
Arthur pulled out a sealed box.
Inside were records.
Photographs.
A cassette.
And a letter addressed:
TO KORA, WHEN YOU ARE SAFE.
Kora touched it.
Then froze.
Beneath the letter was a recent photograph.
Taken less than a week earlier.
It showed Thomas Hastings.
Older.
Alive.
Standing outside a roadside motel.
Kora stopped breathing.
On the photograph’s back were five words:
SILAS BURIED THE WRONG MAN.
Then headlights appeared behind them.
A car stopped.
The driver's door opened.
May you like
And Kora whispered:
“Dad?”
