Chapter 6
The interior of the cabin smelled of aged cedar, dry dust, and old paper. Shafts of pale sunlight pierced through the grimy windowpanes, illuminating floating dust motes that danced in the quiet air. Lily immediately wandered over to a dusty stone hearth, her eyes wide with childlike wonder as she inspected an old set of deer antlers mounted above the mantle.
"Don't touch anything sharp, sweetie," Clara cautioned gently, pulling off her trench coat and tossing it over the back of a worn leather armchair. She looked around the single-room dwelling, taking in the small cot, the cluttered wooden desk, and the towering stacks of sketchbooks lining the walls. "It’s like stepping into a time capsule."
Julian walked straight to the wooden desk in the corner. He ran a gloved hand over the surface, disturbing a thick layer of dust. Opening the drawers one by one, he found old tubes of dried oil paint, rusted drafting compasses, and piles of discarded charcoal sketches. None of it immediately useful, but every item bore the unmistakable artistic flourishes of his twin brother.
"Luka was always obsessed with details," Julian murmured, pulling open the bottom drawer, which was jammed shut. He applied firm, restrained pressure, popping the wooden track loose with a sharp crack. Inside sat a heavy iron lockbox.
Clara walked over, kneeling beside him on the rustic wooden floorboards. "Is that it?"
"It has a mechanical tumbler," Julian said, examining the circular dial engraved with roman numerals. He didn't hesitate. He entered a sequence of numbers based on their childhood birthdays—a private code only the twins had ever shared. With a satisfying metallic click, the heavy lid sprang open.
Inside the lockbox rested a stack of handwritten letters addressed to Clara, a flash drive encased in black polymer, and a heavy silver signet ring bearing the Vause family crest, defaced with a deep scratch across the wolf's eye.
Julian picked up the signet ring, his jaw tightening. "This was my father's ring. Luka took it the night he left. It was a declaration of war."
Clara reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she picked up the top letter addressed to her name in Luka's sweeping handwriting. "He wrote to me... even after he went into hiding. He planned to come back for us once the corporate investigation dismantled our father's holding company."
"Let's see what else he left behind," Julian said, picking up the black flash drive. He walked over to a small, battery-powered rugged laptop he had brought from his car, plugging the device into the USB port.
The screen flickered to life, displaying a single video file named 'To Whoever Finds This—My Brother, or the Enemy.'
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Julian swallowed hard, his breathing slowing as he used the mouse pad to click play. The pixelated image flickered on the screen, revealing Luka Vause sitting in a dimly lit room, looking older, tired, but unmistakably alive.
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