Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Two: After The Farewell

The rain had finally stopped, leaving the morning damp and heavy, the air thick with that wet, metallic scent that always follows a storm. Outside, the earth glistened under the hesitant sunlight, and in the distance, the world had already begun to move on. But here, inside the safe house, time felt suspended.

The funeral was over. Elena’s casket had been lowered, flowers scattered like fragile bursts of color over the wet ground, and the procession had moved on. On the news, Robert Wolfe stood perfectly straight, every movement measured, every word calculated. His mask of composure was flawless. He had done it well, too well. Too many people would see only the perfection of the ceremony, the poise of the patriarch. But I knew. I had seen the chaos that came before, the grief that had been twisted into anger and madness. I had seen the truth, and it didn’t match the broadcast.

I sank deeper into the armchair, hugging myself as if I could hold the storm at bay. My chest ached in a way t