He paused at the door, his hand resting on the cold brass knob.

“You are just like your uncle,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Cold and entirely alone.”

“I have the company,” I said. “And I have the loyalty of the people who actually built it.”

The door opened, and a gust of freezing mountain air rushed into the room, scattering a few loose ashes from the hearth.

They stepped out into the dark, the snow swirling around their boots.

I closed the heavy wooden door and locked it.

The cabin was quiet now, save for the crackle of the dying fire.

I walked to the window and watched their red tail lights disappear down the winding mountain road.

The legacy Elliot left behind was heavy, but it was finally mine to carry.

I turned back to the warm room, pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders, and prepared for the long drive back to Denver.