PART 19 — THE PEOPLE WHO WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO RETURN

They waited until darkness covered the mountains.

Then they moved.

Jonathan led them along a narrow ridge on the eastern side.

Samuel followed with his rifle.

Silas stayed beside Nora.

Clara and Daniel walked together behind them.

Elizabeth remained silent.

Too silent.

After nearly an hour, Jonathan stopped beside a wall of stone.

“There.”

Nora saw nothing.

Jonathan removed a small knife from his coat and scraped away a layer of moss.

A metal ring appeared.

He pulled it.

The ground opened.

A staircase descended into darkness.

Silas looked at him.

“You knew this was here.”

“I told you.”

Jonathan looked down.

“I built part of it.”

Nora stepped onto the first stair.

Jonathan caught her arm.

“You don’t know what you’re walking into.”

She pulled free.

“Neither did you.”

They descended.

The air grew colder.

Then came the smell.

Old wood.

Oil.

And something else.

Smoke.

At the bottom was a corridor.

But unlike the ruined chapel, this place had been maintained.

There were lanterns.

Fresh footprints.

Food.

Blankets.

Someone was living here.

Samuel raised his rifle.

A sound came from the darkness.

A voice.

“Stop.”

Everyone froze.

A man stepped into the lantern light.

He was perhaps seventy years old.

His hair was white.

His face was marked by scars.

Behind him stood six people.

Men.

Women.

Children.

All staring at Jonathan.

The old man looked at Nora.

Then at the ledger.

His eyes widened.

“Thomas’s girl.”

Nora’s heart stopped.

“How do you know my grandfather?”

The old man gave a sad smile.

“Because he came here the night he decided to become a better man.”

Daniel stepped forward.

“My father came here?”

“Yes.”

“What did he do?”

The old man looked at Jonathan.

“Ask him.”

Jonathan’s jaw tightened.

Nora turned.

“What happened here?”

Jonathan didn’t answer.

The old man did.

“Your grandfather brought us food. Money. New names.”

“Why?”

“Because he knew what his family had done to us.”

Nora looked at the people around her.

“You were hiding here?”

“For twenty years.”

“From Jonathan?”

The old man shook his head.

“From everyone.”

Clara suddenly stepped forward.

“I know this place.”

Everyone turned.

She touched the wall.

“There was a room here.”

Her voice trembled.

“I stayed in it.”

Nora stared at her.

“You remember?”

Clara closed her eyes.

“Not everything.”

Then she opened them.

“But I remember you.”

She looked at the old man.

His face softened.

“You were seventeen.”

Clara nodded.

“They told me I was supposed to stay here until Jonathan stopped searching.”

Jonathan’s voice was low.

“I wasn’t searching for her.”

Clara looked at him.

“You were.”

“No.”

“You came three times.”

Jonathan said nothing.

Nora stepped between them.

“Why?”

Jonathan finally answered.

“Because Thomas had taken something from me.”

“What?”

Jonathan looked at the ledger.

“My family’s original records.”

Nora frowned.

“Your family?”

“My family owned the land before the Whitmores.”

The old man interrupted.

“That’s what he tells himself.”

Jonathan turned sharply.

The old man continued.

“His family didn’t own all of it.”

“Enough.”

“No.”

The old man looked at Nora.

“Your great-grandfather didn’t steal everything from Jonathan’s family.”

He pointed at the ledger.

“He stole it from ours.”

Nora slowly opened the book.

The old man walked closer.

“Turn to the last pages.”

She did.

There were no names.

Only signatures.

Dozens of them.

Then one final signature.

Thomas Whitmore.

Underneath it:

I return what my family took.

Nora’s breath caught.

“He signed this?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Three days before he died.”

Daniel’s eyes filled with tears.

“He never told us.”

“He couldn’t.”

“Why?”

The old man looked at Jonathan.

“Because Jonathan found out.”

Jonathan’s face became cold.

“And that’s why Thomas had to die.”

Clara gasped.

Nora looked at Jonathan.

“You killed my grandfather?”

Jonathan stared at her.

“No.”

A pause.

“I wanted him dead.”

The distinction meant nothing to Nora.

“You were there.”

“Yes.”

“You watched.”

“Yes.”

“Who killed him?”

Jonathan looked down.

“I don’t know.”

The room fell silent.

Nora stared at him.

“You don’t know?”

Jonathan shook his head.

“The man who did it wore my organization’s coat.”

Samuel immediately stepped forward.

“Then it wasn’t you.”

Jonathan looked at him.

“No.”

Samuel’s eyes narrowed.

“Then someone inside your network killed Thomas.”

Jonathan nodded.

“And that person has been hiding for twenty years.”

Nora slowly closed the ledger.

“Who?”

Jonathan looked toward the corridor behind them.

Before he could answer—

a gunshot exploded through the underground settlement.

One lantern shattered.

Everyone screamed.

Silas pulled Nora to the floor.

Samuel returned fire.

Another shot.

Then another.

Jonathan drew his weapon.

But instead of shooting toward the attacker—

he turned toward Nora.

“Get the ledger out.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re not here for you.”

His expression was grim.

“They’re here to destroy the evidence.”

Nora clutched the ledger.

Then a familiar voice echoed through the corridor.

“That’s right.”

Nora froze.

She knew that voice.

It was someone she had believed was on her side.

Someone who had walked beside her.

Someone who had helped her survive.

The voice continued:

“And I should have killed you all before you reached the mountain.”

Samuel slowly lowered his rifle.

His face went white.

“No…”

Nora looked at him.

“Who is it?”

Samuel whispered one name.

“Elias.”