Rowan.
His hands shook as he opened it.
Inside was a letter and a small brass key.
He unfolded the paper.
My son,
If you are reading this, then I failed to say aloud what I should have said while I had the chance.
The Bellamy name is not our legacy. People are.
There are records hidden where your mother would never look because she has never valued ordinary things. The key belongs to the old caretaker’s cottage behind the south orchard. Beneath the loose floorboard under the pantry shelves, you will find what Hawthorne has done.
And Rowan, if someday you must choose between preserving peace and protecting a child, choose the child. Every time.
Your mother believes love makes a man weak. She is wrong. Love is the only thing that ever made me brave.
Dad
Rowan read the letter once.
Then again.
The room blurred.
His father had left him a map.
