The sun had completely disappeared by the time Harold and Ezra finally left the remains of Christie's house.
Neither man spoke as they walked toward their cars.
The conversation had exhausted something neither of them knew how to name.
It wasn't peace.
It wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't even trust.
But for the first time in years, there was something else between them.
A secret too heavy for either man to carry alone.
Harold stopped beside his car.
He looked at Ezra.
"There is one thing I need to know."
Ezra paused.
"What?"
"Who else knows?"
Ezra's expression changed.
"About the witch?"
Harold nodded.
"The things you learned from her. What you did. The ritual. Mathew."
Ezra stared at him for a moment.
"No one."
Harold's eyes narrowed.
"No one?"
"No one except you and me."
Harold studied his face.
"And Grey?"
Ezra shook his head.
"Grey only knows about Calum being alive. He knows what I told him years ago."
"And he doesn't know about Mathew?"
"No."
