“He believed distance was the only way to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?”
He said nothing.
“Daniel.”
“I’m not permitted to tell you before you open the chest.”
“He’s gone. Who is stopping you?”
Daniel’s hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“A promise.”
I almost laughed, but there was no humor in me.
“Carl built my whole life around promises I knew nothing about.”
“Yes,” Daniel said quietly. “And he regretted that more than you understand.”
We arrived at Bellmere just before dawn.
The village consisted of a general store, a church, a row of narrow houses, and a diner with a flickering red sign. Beyond it, the road curved around a dark lake surrounded by hills.
The cabin stood alone at the end of a gravel path.
It was smaller than I had imagined, with weathered cedar walls and a green roof covered in pine needles. The front porch leaned slightly toward the water. One upstairs window was cracked.
