I looked at Nathan.

His face was pale, his eyes filled with a deep, quiet grief.

“Are you okay, Emily?” Nathan asked, his breath coming in short gasps.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, clutching the papers. “Lily is safe.”

“She is,” Nathan said, his grip on his father tightening as Richard tried to twist away again.

“You’ve ruined everything,” Richard muttered, his voice suddenly sounding hollow and defeated.

“Everything I built. For a child. For a girl.”

“She is my daughter, Richard,” Nathan said, his voice cold and final. “And she is a Whitmore.”

Mr. Hayes stepped toward us, stepping carefully around the wet carpet and broken glass.

He reached out his hand toward me.

“May I, Emily?” he asked.

I hesitated for a brief second, then handed him the parchment envelope.

Mr. Hayes took it with a slow nod.

He carefully slid the document out of the unsealed sleeve.

His eyes scanned the faded ink and the heavy red wax seal at the bottom of the page.

A faint, serious smile appeared on his face.

“This is indeed the original covenant,” Mr. Hayes said, his voice carrying clearly across the silent room.