We are going to erase everything he ever wanted to be remembered for. Not just his name, but the image he built around it. The control he wrapped himself in. The version of him that was allowed to exist because people were too afraid, too broken, or too trapped to speak.
He wanted a legacy. He wanted to be untouchable.
We give him nothing but truth.
We gather everything that proves who he really was: evidence, pain, survival. And through all of it, Eli’s name stays untouched, held like something we refuse to let the world taint. Adrian will not be remembered the way he wanted. Not as powerful. Not as in control.
He will be stripped down to what he was. And he will burn. Not just in the ground. Not just in memory. But everywhere.
I told him I would destroy him if he touched what was mine. He didn’t listen.
Walking through the house, I find a photo. It’s of Eli on his bike, hair curling around his face, eyes bright, alive in a way this place never deserved. I tuck it into my jacket.
Deck joins me downstairs. Mack and Silas have already helped Eli and Finn to the car; they’re waiting outside, standing guard.
We move through the house one last time, setting everything in place. Points of ignition. Weak spots. Clear lines through the structure so nothing is left untouched when it goes. Fire alarms disabled. Silence made permanent.
Eli helps with all of it, his hands steady despite everything he has been through, like this is something he needs as much as we do. There will be no interruptions.
Deck holds the lighter, and we stand together for a moment longer. The house sits in front of us like a memory refusing to let go, heavy with everything it has taken, everything it has tried to keep hidden inside its walls. I feel it all at once, the weight of it, the years, the damage, the fear it created.
I nod once.
Deck flicks the lighter.
Flame blooms, small at first, fragile against the night air, like it might disappear if you breathe too hard. Then it steadies. It strengthens. It catches properly, alive now, bright and sure. Strong. Beautiful. Like Eli.
Deck lets it fall.
The fire takes instantly, hungry and certain, as if it has been waiting for this moment longer than we have. We stand there long enough to watch it spread, climbing walls, swallowing curtains, moving through every room that held pain like it finally has permission to erase it.
And then we leave.
No one looks back.
Outside, I pull Eli into my side, my arm tight around him. Deck does the same with Finn. Silas and Mack stand next to us, and we watch the house disappear behind us.
This is the beginning.
The end of fear.
The end of Adrian.
The end of everything Eli survived alone.
Eli rests his head on my shoulder. “He’s really gone.”
I press a kiss to his hair. “Yeah, Baby Boy,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “He’s not coming back.”
The roof collapses, and sparks rise into the night sky.
Finn reaches for Eli’s hand, and Eli takes it immediately.
“No one says his name again,” Finn says quietly. A vow. A line drawn in ash.
We watch until nothing is left but embers and smoke.
Then we turn.
