Grant must not learn the truth until we can prove what happened to the Peregrine.
Peregrine.
Eli’s boat.
Grant read faster.
The final letter was six months old.
Mom,
If you’re reading this after I miss our signal, assume I’ve had to disappear again.
Mara has the ledger.
Do not contact Grant through company channels.
Warren still controls more than the business.
And if you die before I can make this right, forgive me for what I made you carry.
Tell Grant only when you know Theo is safe.
There was no signature.
Only a compass symbol.
Grant sat motionless.
Downstairs, a floorboard creaked.
He froze.
“Hello?”
No answer.
Grant stood quietly.
Another sound.
The back door.
He moved toward the hallway.
A man in a gray baseball cap stepped out of Margaret’s office.
The same man from the station, though Grant did not know that yet.
Both men stopped.
The stranger held a folder.
Grant recognized it.
His mother’s private banking records.
“Who are you?”
The man ran.
Grant followed.
Down the stairs.
Through the kitchen.
Out the back door.
By the time Grant reached the driveway, the stranger was already climbing into a dark sedan.
The car accelerated away.
Grant saw part of the plate.
Then noticed something worse.
His mother’s office window had been broken from the outside.
Someone else was searching for Eli’s letters.
Grant pulled out his phone.
He called Rachel.
“Where’s Theo?”
“With me.”
“Keep the doors locked.”
“What happened?”
“Rachel, listen to me.”
His voice made her stop asking questions.
“Do not let anyone take him.”
“Grant—”
“Anyone.”
He hung up.
Then called the police.
Because whatever had begun ten years earlier with Eli’s boat was no longer buried in the past.
It had just entered his mother’s house.
Margaret Holloway was buried at two that afternoon.
Grant stood beside the grave while rain darkened the shoulders of his coat.
He barely heard the minister.
Theo stood with Rachel several yards away.
Grant had debated bringing him.
In the end Theo asked to come.
“She knew me, right?”
Grant had nodded.
“Then I want to say goodbye.”
That sentence nearly broke him.
Warren Holloway stood across the grave.
Sixty-six years old.
Silver hair.
Perfect posture.
The expensive calm of a man accustomed to rooms becoming quiet when he entered them.
For ten years Warren had been the nearest thing Grant had to a father.
Their own father died when the twins were twenty-six.
Warren guided the company afterward.
He supported Grant after Eli’s disappearance.
He sat beside Margaret during every Coast Guard briefing.
He paid for private search boats after officials suspended the operation.
If Eli’s letters were right, all of that had been performance.
After the service Warren approached.
“Grant.”
Grant looked at him.
“You all right?”
“No.”
“Of course.”
Warren placed one hand on his shoulder.
Grant resisted the urge to pull away.
Then Warren saw Theo.
His hand stopped.
The reaction lasted less than one second.
Enough.
“Who’s the boy?”
Grant studied him.
“Friend’s son.”
Warren nodded slowly.
“Looks familiar.”
“Does he?”
“Something around the eyes.”
Grant smiled without warmth.
“Maybe.”
Warren watched Theo again.
Then looked at Grant.
“We should talk about the company next week.”
“Why?”
“Your mother’s shares transfer to you.”
“I know.”
“That makes you the largest family shareholder after me.”
“Then we have plenty of time.”
Warren lowered his voice.
“There are acquisition discussions happening.”
“Not today.”
“Of course.”
He squeezed Grant’s shoulder.
“Family first.”
Grant watched him walk away.
Family first.
He almost laughed.
That evening, after the funeral reception ended, Grant returned to the hotel with Theo.
Police had documented the break-in.
The letters were now in a safe-deposit box under Grant’s lawyer’s control.
Grant had not told Warren anything.
At 8:30 Theo sat on the carpet building a bridge from hotel notepads.
Grant watched.
“You like bridges?”
“My dad did.”
Grant’s chest tightened.
“What do you know about him?”
Theo shrugged.
“Mom said he fixed things under water.”
That sounded like Eli.
Holloway Marine specialized in underwater structural systems.
Eli had been one of their best field engineers.
“Anything else?”
“He liked boats.”
Grant smiled sadly.
“Yes.”
“He was bad at singing.”
Grant laughed.
“That too.”
Theo looked up.
“You knew him?”
“Better than anyone.”
“Were you friends?”
“We were brothers.”
“That doesn’t answer it.”
Grant stared.
The boy had inherited Eli’s irritating precision too.
“Yes.”
He sat on the floor.
“We were best friends when we weren’t trying to kill each other.”
Theo’s eyes widened.
“You tried to kill him?”
“No.”
Grant reconsidered.
“Not seriously.”
Theo laughed.
It was the first completely childlike sound Grant had heard from him.
Grant showed him an old photograph on his phone.
The twins at twelve.
Eli wearing a Baltimore Orioles cap backward.
Grant holding a fishing pole.
“Which one is him?”
Theo studied the image.
Then pointed correctly.
Grant stared.
“How?”
“He smiles bigger.”
Grant looked.
Theo was right.
The child traced Eli’s face with one finger.
“He looks happy.”
“He usually was.”
“Why did he leave?”
Grant did not know how to answer.
Before he could try, his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Grant Holloway?”
A woman.
Quiet.
Breathing hard.
“Mara?”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Grant stood so quickly Theo looked up.
“Where are you?”
“Is Theo safe?”
“Yes.”
“Is he with you?”
“Yes.”
Grant moved into the bathroom and closed the door halfway, keeping Theo visible through the gap.
“What happened?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because somebody followed me yesterday.”
Grant thought of the sedan.
“Gray baseball cap?”
She went silent.
“You saw him?”
“In my mother’s house.”
“Oh God.”
“Mara, who is he?”
“Warren’s investigator.”
Grant closed his eyes.
Confirmation.
“What does Warren want?”
“The ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The proof Eli found.”
“Where is Eli?”
Silence.
Grant’s voice hardened.
“Mara.”
“I don’t know.”
“You were with him.”
“Three years ago.”
“That photograph—”
“Was real.”
“He survived the accident.”
“Yes.”
“You let my family believe he was dead.”
“I met him two years after it happened.”
“You knew he had a twin.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever tell him to call me?”
“Every month.”
Grant gripped the sink.
“What did he say?”
“That Warren would use you.”
“Use me for what?”
“To get him back.”
Grant lowered his voice.
“What happened to the boat?”
Mara breathed slowly.
“The Peregrine was sabotaged.”
Grant stared at his reflection.
“By Warren?”
“Eli believed so.”
“Why?”
“Holloway Marine had been falsifying inspection data on offshore support structures.”
Grant felt dizzy.
Their company held contracts worth hundreds of millions.
“What kind of falsification?”
“Corrosion reports. Load limits. Repair certifications.”
Grant whispered:
“No.”
“Eli found internal inspection files showing several structures should have been taken out of service.”
“Who changed them?”
“Warren’s office.”
Grant sat on the closed toilet lid.
Mara continued.
“Eli copied everything. He planned to take it to federal regulators. Two days later somebody tampered with the Peregrine’s steering system.”
“The storm.”
“Made it easy to call an accident.”
“How did Eli survive?”
“A fishing crew found him.”
“Why didn’t they report it?”
“He begged them not to.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“Then my mother helped him disappear.”
“Yes.”
“For ten years.”
“She hated it.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No.”
Mara’s voice broke slightly.
“She loved both of you.”
Grant pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Where is Eli now?”
“Three years ago he learned Warren had found one of the fishermen who rescued him.”
“And?”
“He left.”
“Just left?”
“He said he was going to finish it.”
“Finish what?”
“Build a case nobody could bury.”
Theo appeared near the bathroom door.
Grant looked at him.
The boy whispered:
“Is that Mom?”
Grant nodded.
Theo reached for the phone.
Grant handed it to him.
“Mom?”
Whatever Mara said made Theo begin crying.
Grant looked away.
Some moments did not belong to witnesses.
After several minutes Theo handed the phone back.
“She says she loves me.”
Grant took it.
“Mara.”
“I need you to listen carefully.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a storage locker at the old Severn Marina.”
“What’s inside?”