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From my father.
When I was twelve years old.
He had repeated them so often I'd almost stopped hearing them.
Until now.
Mace quietly stepped beside me.
"You okay?"
I nodded.
Barely.
Emily had never known me.
But eighteen years ago...
She had believed in the kind of person my father taught me to become.
I finished the final lines.
Tell Emma...
Emily's handwriting faltered.
...she was worth saving.
Nothing else.
No signature.
No goodbye.
Just...
One promise.
The room remained silent for a very long time.
Finally Mace spoke.
"She moved the box."
"Yes."
"And she left us one clue."
I looked around the tavern again.
The Keeper had spent eighteen years searching for something hidden.
Emily had hidden it where everyone would see it... and no one would think to look.
Max suddenly barked once.
Not at the fireplace.
