Chapter 10 - The Sanctuary of Old Bones
The interior of the cabin smelled of burning hickory wood, stale coffee, and old paper. A cast-iron stove roared in the corner, radiating a blessed, deep-reaching heat that immediately thawed Kristen’s frozen fingers.
"Sit by the fire, kids. Warm your hands," the old man said, his voice gravelly and weathered like old oak. He turned to Kristen, eyeing her torn beige cardigan and the blood smear on her forearm. "You're Arthur’s granddaughter, aren't you? You've got his eyes."
Kristen stared at him in astonishment. "You knew my grandfather?"
"Knew him? We built this railway line together sixty years ago," the old man replied, walking over to a kettle and pouring hot water into chipped ceramic mugs. "Name's Silas. And your mother’s men have been tearing up this county looking for you since sundown."
Silas handed a steaming mug of cocoa to Maya, who clutched it with both hands, and another to Leo. He looked at Kristen with piercing blue eyes. "Eleanor wants that trust fund liquidated before the audit on Monday morning. If she gets those signatures, she owns everything your father left behind."
"She already destroyed the house. She sent me a polaroid of the ruins," Kristen said, her voice shaking as she pulled her grandfather’s journal from her tote bag and laid it on the scarred wooden table. "She thinks I'm weak because I walked away from her estate. But she doesn't know I have this."
Silas flipped open the journal, running a calloused thumb over the ink. A grim smile touched his lips. "Ah. The original corporate charter. With this, Eleanor's entire real estate empire crumbles under federal fraud charges."
Before Kristen could reply, a sharp rapping echoed against the cabin's heavy front door—not a fist, but the rhythmic, metallic tap of a heavy ring.
"Silas," a smooth, chilling voice called out from the darkness outside. "We know they're in there. Open the door, and no one gets hurt."
May you like
Silas didn't flinch. He walked over to the stone hearth, reached up, and unhooked a heavy brass fireplace poker. He looked at Kristen, his eyes hard as flint. "Looks like old times. Are you ready to fight back, girl?"
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