He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

part that had carried Brixell on tired shoulders, the part that once believed loyalty required self-erasure—finally loosened its grip.

When I left Heliancore, the sunset washed the city in warm amber. I paused at the edge of the courtyard, letting the moment settle into my bones. My phone buzzed. A final message from Harper.

Everyone here knows the truth continue reading …