Just thinking.
Hard.
“Boone.”
“Yeah.”
“If we go deeper into this…”
Her voice lowers slightly.
“…we might not like what we find.”
I hold her gaze.
“We already don’t.”
Outside the cabin, the wind moves through the pines.
Soft.
Restless.
Like something stirring in the mountains.
And somewhere out there—
Someone is watching.
Waiting to see if we take the bait.
And the truth is…
We already have.
9
The Architect
They took the bait.
I knew they would.
The screen in front of me shows the church parking lot from earlier that afternoon. The footage loops silently—cars arriving, volunteers unloading supplies, families greeting one another with the warm familiarity of small-town life.
A perfect mask.
Pastor Eli walks through the frame at one point, greeting people with his usual calm smile.
A good man.
Useful.
The system has always depended on men like him.
Not leaders.
Connectors.
