“Perfect spot.” Her hands were shaking now. She shoved them in her pockets.
Every step brought back memories. Sounds. Smells.
This was the same forest. The same trees. The same cold.
Her chest got tight. Her breathing got shallow. Not now.
Don’t break now. She forced herself to keep moving. Then she saw it.
The clearing. Smaller than she remembered. But the same.
Definitely the same. She stopped walking. Everyone caught up.
Gathered around. “Here?” someone asked. “This is the spot?” Skye didn’t answer.
Couldn’t answer. She was seven years old again. On her knees.
Cold. Scared. Calling for her father.
“Miss Rowan?” An assistant touched her arm. “You okay?” She blinked. Came back to the present.
“Yeah, sorry. This is the spot.” People spread out.
Started talking about leadership. About vision. Corporate nonsense.
Skye turned. Lennox stood at the edge of the clearing. Looking around.
His face was blank. Unreadable. But something in his posture changed.
His shoulders got tight. He recognized this place. She could see it in his eyes.
Recognition. Then denial. Then something like fear.
He looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time. And Skye knew.
This was the moment. She reached into her backpack. Pulled out the red cardigan.
Slipped it on. The same one from fifteen years ago. Faded now.
Worn. But unmistakable. Lennox’s face went white.
His eyes locked on the cardigan. Then on her face. She saw the moment it clicked.
The moment he realized. His daughter. His dead daughter.
Standing in the exact spot where he left her to die. Very much alive. He stumbled backward.
Nearly fell. “No.” He whispered.
“That’s not. You can’t.” “Hello, Dad.”
Skye said. Her voice was calm. Cold.
Everything he’d been for fifteen years. The clearing went silent. Everyone turned.
Confused. Watching. Lennox opened his mouth.
Nothing came out. And for the first time in his perfect, controlled life, he had no idea what to do. Everyone stared.
The executives. The assistants. All of them looking between Skye and Lennox.
Confused. Waiting for an explanation. “I’m sorry.”
Mark said. “Did you just call him dad?” Skye ignored him. Kept her eyes on Lennox.
He was frozen. Face white. Hands shaking.
She’d imagined this moment a thousand times. What she’d say. How she’d feel.
But now that it was happening, she felt nothing. Just cold. “This place.”
She said quietly. “Do you remember it?” Lennox’s mouth opened. Closed.
Opened again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice cracked.
Everyone heard it. “You don’t remember bringing your daughter here? Fifteen years ago?” “I don’t have a daughter.” “You did once.”
“Skye Drayton. Five years old. You brought her to these mountains and left her right here.”
She pointed at the ground. At the exact spot where she’d collapsed. “You told her to stay.”
“That you’d be right back. Then you walked away.” The executives started whispering.
Pulling out phones even though there was no signal. “This is insane,” Lennox said. Louder now.
Trying to regain control. “I don’t know who you are or what game you’re playing.” “I’m not playing anything.”
Skye pulled out the envelope. Held it up. “This is the money you paid a man named Elias Rowan.”
“$7,000. To make sure your daughter’s situation ended in these mountains. To make sure she never came back.”
Lennox’s eyes went wide. Fixed on the envelope. “But he didn’t do what you paid him for.”
“He found me. Carried me to a hospital. Saved my life.”
“Gave me his name and raised me in poverty while you collected $2,000,000 in life insurance.” She pulled out the death certificate. Unfolded it.
“Skye Drayton. Deceased. Signed by you.”
“Filed while I was still alive.” She walked toward him. He stepped back.
“You declared me dead. Collected the money. Built your company on my grave.”
“And you never looked back.” “Stop,” Lennox whispered. “Why? Does the truth hurt? Everyone knows I lost my daughter.”
“It was tragic.” “An accident? It wasn’t an accident.” The words hung in the air.
Skye turned to face the others. They were recording now. Phones up.
Capturing everything. Good. Let them.
“My father brought me here on purpose. Left me in the cold with a heart condition he knew would kill me. Then he went home and waited for me to die so he could cash in.”
“That’s a lie,” Lennox said. Desperate now. “She wandered off.”
“I searched for her. The police searched. For three days.”
“Then you called it off and filed a death certificate. Because there was no hope. Because you didn’t want anyone to find me alive.”
Lennox’s face twisted. Rage. Mixing with fear.
“You have no proof. Just a crazy story in a cardigan.” Skye pulled out her phone.
Played a recording. Elias’s voice. Clear and steady.
“My name is Elias Rowan. Fifteen years ago, a man named Lennox Drayton paid me $7,000 to ensure his daughter died in the Cascade Mountains. I couldn’t do it.”
“I saved her instead. This is my confession.” The recording stopped.
Silence. Then Lennox did something she didn’t expect. He started crying.
Not fake tears. Real ones. Shaking his whole body.
He dropped to his knees. “I was broke,” he whispered. “The company was failing.”
“I had massive debts. The insurance money was the only way out.” Everyone gasped.
He was confessing. Actually confessing. “She was sick anyway.”
“The medical bills were crushing me. I thought it would be mercy. Quick.”
“Painless. Better than watching her suffer.” “So you chose murder,” Skye said.
No emotion in her voice. “I chose survival. For me.”..
