“You said Rowland once helped you,” she continued. “Do you remember what he said?”
Carver’s gaze flicked toward her, then he looked away. “Said I should watch my accounts more closely. That some numbers didn’t add up.”
“Did he tell you why?”
Carver swallowed hard. “He thought someone was watching my shipments. The coal that left my mine didn’t match what reached the docks.”
“And did it?” she asked.
He nodded once. “No. He was right. I just didn’t want to believe it.”
“Who else knew?”
Carver hesitated. His eyes met hers again, and this time, held.
His throat worked as if he were forcing the words past something bitter. “I don’t know their names,” he said finally. “But I saw one of ’em. Came to my house late once. Said if I didn’t keep quiet, my wife might fall down a flight of stairs. My boy, too.”
He looked away again, jaw clenching. “My boy’s only seven. Thinks he’s off on an adventure. Doesn’t know why he can’t write home.”
Georgina’s hand tensed against the chair, but she didn’t speak. She gave him space, and that quiet filled the room like breath after drowning.
Carver’s voice dropped to a rasp. “I sent them north with a friend I trust. Didn’t tell them why. Didn’t say how long. Just… gone.”
Georgina’s voice was barely a whisper. “That’s why you sent them away.”
Carver nodded. “They don’t know where they are. No one does. And I’m not about to tell anyone.”
Something shifted, not in Carver, but in himself. He’d come here prepared for denial. For evasion. He hadn’t expected fear. Real fear.
And Georgina, she hadn’t just uncovered it. She had carried it like it was hers.
Carver didn’t offer more. He didn’t need to.
Barrington gave a short nod, jaw tense. “We’ll speak again.”
Carver didn’t answer. His silence wasn’t defiance anymore. It was exhaustion. Survival. He looked like a man who’d bartered away every piece of peace he had left just to keep the people he loved alive.
Barrington gave Alex a glance, then stepped back toward the door. “I’ll keep watch.” The click of the latch behind him left the room quieter than before.
“Thank you, Tom,” Georgina said softly. “I hope your family will be able to come home soon.”
They stepped back into the fading light. The sun was low now, throwing long shadows across the path. Georgina didn’t speak. Neither did Alex.
Not until they reached the edge of the gate.
“You did well,” he said quietly.
She looked up, brow furrowing. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You got through to him. That’s more than I could’ve done.”
Georgina shook her head, a half-smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “No. He just needed someone to ask the right questions.”
Alex stopped walking.
She turned to face him.
“I saw the way he looked at you,” he said. “Like you were safe to speak to. Like you weren’t going to use what he said against him. That’s not something you can fake.”
