All this time, I had doubted him.
Questioned him.
Feared him.
And he had been guarding my father's final evidence like a relic.
"I hid it," Leo finished, "because if the wrong person found it, Thomas's death would mean nothing."
Silence stretched between us.
The file no longer felt like a secret I had accidentally uncovered.
It felt like responsibility.
And for the first time—
I understood why he never threw it away.
~~~~~
I don't remember when I sat down.
One second I was still standing across from him, the folder pressed against my chest like a shield. The next, my knees gave out and I was already sitting on the edge of the chair, staring at the table without truly seeing it.
It felt like being struck by lightning without the burn.
All the doubt I had carried.
All the suspicion.
Every silent accusation I had constructed against him.
All of it cracked at once.
