James stood abruptly, moving to the window where he stared out at the desert landscape.His shoulders were tense.
"That's why we never knew the full story," Kari continued."Grandfather was protecting Ruth.And probably Remy's reputation too, since he couldn't prove anything."
"And now Remy's son tried to finish what his father started," James said, still facing the window."With Ruth as the final victim again."
"He believed completing the ritual would allow some entity called the Shadow Walker to fully manifest," Kari explained."To cross completely from whatever boundary space it exists in.Apparently, his father's attempt fifty years ago only achieved partial manifestation."
Her father turned, his expression troubled."And you believe this?This talk of entities and boundaries?"
The answer would've been obvious a few months ago.Now, after everything she'd experienced since returning to the reservation, Kari couldn't dismiss it so easily.
"I believe David Silver believed it," she said carefully."And I believe something was happening in that cave beyond ordinary explanation."
James nodded, not arguing the point."The doctors say you were exposed to some kind of plant-based compound?"
"A yellow powder," Kari said."Silver used it on Jennifer Holbrook, too.It's primarily datura, along with other elements they're still analyzing.Causes disorientation, sensory distortion, and temporary paralysis in higher doses."
"Traditional knowledge turned into a weapon," her father murmured.
A brief silence settled between them.Kari studied her father's profile as he gazed out the window again, noticing the tightness in his jaw, the unusual stillness in his normally energetic presence.
"You're really shaken by this," she said.
James sighed, turning to face her."When Yazzie called me..."His voice caught unexpectedly."All he said was that you'd been hurt during an operation.For a minute, before he gave details, I thought—"
He didn't finish the sentence.He didn't need to.
"I'm fine, Dad," Kari said, gentler than usual."Really."
"I know."He returned to the chair beside her bed, his movements suddenly revealing his age in a way Kari rarely noticed."But it hit me that I could lose you.Just like—"
"Like Mom?"Kari suggested when he didn't continue.
"Yes."The single word carried unexpected weight.
"You and Mom were divorced long before she died," Kari said, watching him closely.
James met her gaze directly."That doesn't mean I stopped caring about her, Kari.Anna was...special.Always."
The simple admission hung in the air between them.Kari had spent years assuming her parents' divorce had been a clean break—emotionally as well as legally.Her father's remarriage to Linda had seemed to confirm this narrative.Now, seeing the genuine pain in his eyes, she recognized the oversimplification of her assumptions.
"I didn't know you still felt that way," she said finally.
"We had our problems," James said."Serious ones.But Anna was part of my life for almost twenty years.Mother of my child."His gaze softened."There were good years, Kari.Really good ones."
"You never talk about those."
"No, I don't."He looked down at his hands, the gold band of his second marriage catching the afternoon light."It seemed...disloyal, somehow.To Linda.To the life I've built.And maybe I thought you didn't want to hear it."
Kari considered this."I might not have.Before."
"And now?"
She shrugged, feeling suddenly vulnerable."I've been learning about Grandfather since I came back.About the kind of man he was, the challenges he faced.Maybe I should know more about Mom, too.The parts I was too young to remember or too teenage-angry to appreciate."
James smiled."She was brilliant.Passionate about preserving traditional knowledge while making it accessible to younger generations.Stubborn as hell."He chuckled softly."Where do you think you got that from?"
"Hey," Kari protested, but without heat.
