Chapter 4 - The Man Who Walked Away
"Grandpa," Clara said gently.
Samuel Holloway finally raised his head. His eyes were milky with age, but when they landed on Julian Vance standing in the doorway, the lens in his hand dropped onto the velvet pad. The room went so quiet that the ticking of forty disassembled clocks became an overwhelming roar.
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"You have Arthur’s chin," Samuel murmured, his hands remaining steady on the edge of the table. "And his arrogance, if you think you can walk up those stairs without asking."
Julian bowed his head—not out of etiquette, but out of genuine reverence. "My father died four months ago, Mr. Holloway. His last words were not for his children or his company. He said, Find Samuel. Return the northern ledger. The cornerstone is buried under dirt, not gold." Julian pulled a folded parchment envelope from his breast pocket and laid it across the workbench, beside a half-eaten loaf of bread. "He kept the original deed of transfer. He admitted in writing that he forged your signature when you fell ill in ninety-four."
