2025-12-24 16:46:31
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CHAPTER 10
The hospital corridor smelled like antiseptic and old paint, the kind that clung to your clothes long after you left. Caelan had been pacing it for nearly an hour, counting the tiles without realizing he’d started. White. Off-white. Cracked. White again. Somewhere between the third lap and the fourth, his phone vibrated.He didn’t look at it immediately.Hope had become a fragile thing, a thin glass, easily shattered. He let the phone vibrate itself into silence before finally stopping near the window at the end of the corridor. Outside, the city moved on. Cars honked. A street vendor laughed too loudly. Life, uninterrupted. Moving. The phone vibrated again. This time, he answered.“Yes?” His voice sounded calm, even to himself.“Mr. Hale,” the doctor said. “We’ve finalized the panel.”Caelan closed his eyes.“I’m coming,” he said, already knowing there was nothing more to discuss.The consultation room was too small for news like this. The doctor sat opposite him, tablet in hand, ex
CHAPTER 9
The ally did not arrive with fanfare.He arrived with a cup of bad coffee and a familiar voice Caelan hadn’t heard in years.“Still allergic to sleeping, I see.”Caelan froze.He turned slowly.The man leaning against the doorframe wore a rumpled jacket, his hair threaded with early gray, eyes sharp behind tired humor.“Jax,” Caelan said.Jax Calder grinned. “Took you long enough to reappear.”For a moment, Caelan simply stared. The past rushed in uninvited—late nights, shared secrets, quiet escapes from places that no longer existed.“You shouldn’t be here,” Caelan said finally.“Neither should you,” Jax replied. “Yet here we both are.”Lyra shifted in her sleep. Jax’s expression softened immediately. “That her?” he asked quietly.Caelan nodded.Jax exhaled through his nose. “Damn.”They spoke in the hallway.“You set off half the registry alarms in the city,” Jax said, sipping his coffee. “Council clerks are panicking. Old men are pretending they aren’t.”“I didn’t know you still l
CHAPTER 8
The call came just before dawn. Caelan was half-awake, slumped in the chair beside Lyra’s bed, when his phone vibrated against his thigh. For a moment, he considered ignoring it. Nothing good arrived before sunrise.Then he saw the caller ID.Central Review Council — Provisional OfficeHe answered.“This is Caelan Ashborne.”A woman spoke—older, her voice composed but carrying a weight that suggested authority earned rather than granted.“Mr. Ashborne,” she said. “This is Councilor Mira Ellowen. You’ve triggered a dormant registry review.”“I’m aware,” Caelan replied.“Then you’re also aware,” she continued, “that your name was removed for reasons that were never made public.”“Yes.”“That secrecy protected you,” Ellowen said. “And others.”Caelan said nothing.“You’ve forced our hand,” she went on. “The council will convene an internal inquiry within forty-eight hours. Until then, your claim exists in a suspended state.”“Meaning?” Caelan asked.“Meaning,” Ellowen said calmly, “you a
CHAPTER 7
Nothing happened.That was the first thing Caelan noticed.No alarms. No sudden arrests. No dramatic confrontation. The hospital lights steadied. The machines continued their quiet rhythm. Lyra slept on, unaware that a line had been crossed somewhere far beyond these walls.For a brief, dangerous moment, Caelan wondered if he’d imagined it all.Then his phone vibrated.Once.Twice.He didn’t answer immediately. He sat still, watching Lyra breathe, grounding himself in something real before facing whatever came next.When he finally looked, there were three missed calls.Two unknown numbers.One he recognized.His father’s old family office.His throat tightened.That number hadn’t appeared on his phone in over a decade.The call came again.Caelan stepped into the hallway before answering.“Yes?” he said quietly.There was a pause on the other end. Then an unfamiliar voice—measured, professional, faintly incredulous.“Caelan Ashborne,” the man said. “This is Archivist Rowan Hale, Cent
CHAPTER 6
The hospital’s administrative wing was colder than the rest of the building.Not physically, emotionally.Here, grief didn’t cry. It queued.Caelan stood in line clutching a folder thick with forms he barely understood. Insurance statements. Payment breakdowns. Consent documents written in language that protected institutions, not people.When it was his turn, the clerk barely looked up.“Coverage doesn’t include experimental procedures,” she said, fingers already moving toward the next file.“There has to be something,” Caelan insisted. “A program. A deferment.”She sighed, finally meeting his eyes with a look that suggested she’d done this too many times to feel anything about it. “Sir, I understand this is difficult.”No, he thought. You don’t.“This is the best we can offer,” she continued, sliding a paper toward him. “Palliative support.”He stared at the word until it blurred.Outside the office, a child laughed. The sound echoed down the corridor like an accusation.Caelan lean
CHAPTER 5
The night nurse spoke softly, as if raising her voice might worsen Lyra’s condition.“She’s stable for now,” she said, adjusting the IV line. “But her vitals are… delicate.”Delicate. Caelan hated that word. It sounded like something that could be fixed with care and patience. Like porcelain. Like glass.Lyra stared as the nurse left, her eyelids fluttering open.“Daddy?” she murmured.He was at her side instantly. “I’m here.”Her fingers curled weakly around his sleeve. “Did I scare you again?”He forced a smile. “You always scare me. Ever since the day you decided to be born early.”She smiled faintly at that. “Mom said I was impatient.”The word mom landed heavier than it should have.“You should sleep,” he said gently.She nodded, then hesitated. “Daddy… if I don’t get better…”He leaned closer. “You will.”“But if I don’t,” she whispered stubbornly, “will you still come tell me stories?”His throat tightened. “I’ll tell them until you’re sick of hearing my voice.”“That’ll take f
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