Chapter 8

The name on the card felt heavier than it should have. Elias Everett. It wasn't just another name scribbled in her father's notebook—it was a link to a past she had never fully understood.

Lily traced the bold letters with her fingertips, her mind racing with possibilities. Who was Elias Everett? Why had her father trusted him? And why did Hazel say he could help?

Noah peered over her shoulder. "Do you know him?"

Lily shook her head slowly. "No. But I've heard the name before."

Noah's brows furrowed. "Where?"

Lily hesitated, memories stirring at the edges of her mind. Then it hit her. "My father mentioned him once. A long time ago."

Hazel leaned against the desk, watching them carefully. "Elias isn't an easy man to find. He's been off the grid for years."

Lily looked up at her. "Then how do we reach him?"

Hazel smirked. "Leave that to me."

She turned to a small drawer, rummaging through old files before pulling out a burner phone. She dialed a number, then pressed the phone to her ear.

The silence in the room stretched.

Then, finally, someone answered.

Hazel didn't waste time on pleasantries. "It's me. We need to talk."

A muffled voice replied on the other end, but Lily couldn't make out the words.

Hazel's gaze flicked to her. "No, not me. Her."

Lily's heart pounded. Whoever Elias Everett was, he already knew about her.

A pause. Then Hazel sighed. "Tomorrow. Usual place." She ended the call and tossed the phone onto the table. "He'll see you."

Lily exhaled, gripping the card tightly. "Where do I meet him?"

Hazel's smirk returned. "An abandoned train station. Midnight."

Noah scoffed. "Of course it is."

Hazel ignored him. "Elias doesn't trust easily. If you want his help, you need to prove you're serious."

Lily nodded. "I will."

She had spent too long running from the truth. Now, she was walking straight into it.

---

The night air was cold against Lily's skin as she and Noah approached the old train station on the outskirts of town. The place was eerily silent, the once-bustling tracks now rusted and forgotten.

"Are you sure about this?" Noah asked, his voice low.

Lily nodded. "We don't have a choice."

A faint flicker of movement caught her eye near the shadows of the platform. A figure emerged—tall, broad-shouldered, his face hidden beneath the hood of a dark jacket.

Elias Everett.

He stopped a few feet away, his stance cautious. When he finally spoke, his voice was deep, measured. "You're James Monroe's daughter."

Lily's breath hitched. "You knew my father."

Elias studied her for a long moment. "I did."

Something in his voice sent a chill down her spine.

Lily squared her shoulders. "Then you know why I'm here."

Elias nodded slowly. "I do." He took a step closer, his gaze sharp. "But the question is—do you?"

Lily met his stare, unflinching. "I want the truth."

Elias's lips curled into something between a smirk and a grimace. "Then you'd better be ready for what comes next."