Chapter 13
Hattie returned before they left.
Barefoot.
Dress torn.
Collar gone.
Michael ran toward her.
Then stopped.
The instinct remained.
So did the betrayal.
Hattie looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Michael’s face hardened.
“For which part?”
She had no answer.
Dominic stepped between them.
“How did you escape?”
“Silas never locked me.”
Dominic stared.
“He wanted you to come here.”
Hattie realized it as he spoke.
Another direction.
Silas released her knowing she would return.
Why?
“What did he tell you?”
Hattie’s face went pale.
“That Dominic would kill Michael.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“And?”
“That if I wanted Michael alive, I had to stop you reaching the kennel.”
Michael looked at her.
“Were you going to?”
Hattie said nothing.
Again.
Choice.
Michael closed his eyes.
Done.
Whatever remained between them died quietly.
Dominic looked at Hattie.
“You are not coming.”
“He’ll kill Donna.”
“You care?”
Hattie flinched.
“Believe it or not, yes.”
Dominic stared.
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You care now because consequences have arrived.”
She looked away.
“That’s not the same thing.”
Hattie began crying.
Dominic felt nothing that changed his decision.
He turned to Michael.
“You stay.”
Michael’s face hardened.
“No.”
“I need someone here.”
“Use Hattie.”
“No.”
“Why me?”
Dominic looked at him.
“Because if Silas fails, he will send someone toward the house.”
Michael understood.
Protect Donna’s home.
Elena.
Hattie.
Staff.
Maybe redemption started with an unglamorous duty.
Not revenge.
Michael nodded.
Adrian went with Dominic.
Two brothers now.
The first and second.
The kennel grounds were lit when they arrived.
Silas had restored the old training yard.
Torches burned along the stone walls.
Peter Shaw stood near the underground door.
Donna sat in a chair.
Not bound.
That surprised Dominic.
Silas stood behind her.
“Key.”
Dominic held it up.
Donna looked at him.
“Don’t.”
Silas smiled.
“Still protecting him.”
Donna turned.
“I protected all of them from you.”
“Poorly.”
Peter looked toward Dominic.
Guilt visible.
Dominic ignored Silas first.
“Peter.”
His security chief swallowed.
“Sir.”
“Why?”
Silas smiled.
Dominic raised a hand.
“I asked Peter.”
Peter’s face broke.
“My daughter.”
Dominic remembered.
Peter had a daughter living in Boston.
Thirty.
Married.
Pregnant.
“Silas has her?”
“No.”
Peter shook his head.
“He knows where she lives.”
Dominic stared.
“And that was enough.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask you to hurt anyone?”
“Not until tonight.”
“What did you do?”
“Opened gates. Disabled cameras.”
“Donna?”
“I brought her.”
Peter’s eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
Donna looked at him.
“Sorry is for accidents.”
Peter lowered his head.
Silas looked almost bored.
“Are we finished pretending confession matters?”
Dominic turned.
“It matters because you hate it.”
Silas’s expression changed.
“You need people isolated inside shame.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Peter just told us why.”
“And?”
“He still betrayed me.”
Peter flinched.
Dominic continued.
“But now the betrayal belongs to him.”
He looked at Silas.
“Not you.”
The old man’s face hardened.
Dominic understood the mechanism.
Silas needed people to believe he owned their choices.
Naming responsibility broke the magic.
Not erased damage.
Broke ownership.
“Key,” Silas repeated.
Dominic walked to the iron door.
Inserted it.
Donna whispered:
“Dominic.”
He turned.
“I know.”
He opened the Shepherd Room.
Inside were rows of hooks.
Dozens of objects.
Rings.
Watches.
Medals.
Tokens representing men once sworn to Silas.
Adrian stepped inside.
His face changed.
A small wooden knife hung from one hook.
His childhood toy.
Silas had kept it.
Michael’s wooden horse was another.
Dominic searched.
Then found a black collar.
D.C.
His own.
Prepared twenty-six years earlier.
Silas entered behind them.
“You see?”
Dominic looked around.
“You collected children.”
“I collected loyalty.”
“You collected proof that frightened boys once needed you.”
Silas’s face hardened.
Adrian removed his wooden knife.
Silas whispered:
“Put it back.”
Adrian looked at him.
“No.”
That one word wounded him more than any threat.
Dominic understood what Donna meant.
The key did not protect a list.
It protected Silas’s mythology.
Every token proved someone once belonged to him.
Destroy them, and the past could no longer be displayed as ownership.
Dominic lifted a lantern.
Silas’s eyes widened.
“No.”
Dominic poured oil across the old wooden hooks.
Adrian did the same.
Silas lunged.
Donna stepped into his path.
At eighty.
Small.
Shaking.
Silas stopped.
She looked at him.
“You took enough sons.”
Then she slapped him.
Not hard.
May you like
But the room changed.
Dominic dropped the lantern.
