Lewis had originally planned to stay quiet and wait for our enemy to make the first mistake. He believed patience would expose them eventually. But things had become far more complicated than we expected. Silas had gone to terrifying lengths just to protect his secret. He bit off his own tongue. He carried poison in his teeth. He chose death over speaking.
That kind of loyalty wasn't ordinary.
And with the Hales now directly involved, Lewis's patience was wearing thin. Every day brought more damage. More blood. More loss.
Silas had been the only son of Lewis's sister-in-law. Lewis never showed much emotion, but I knew this had affected him deeply. He carried it quietly, the way he carried everything.
