Chapter 14 - Selian’s Most Dangerous Choice
Finding Elias became possible overnight.
Not easy.
Possible.
Federal investigators discovered that a man matching his description had used cash to travel west three years earlier.
A camera image from a rural station showed someone with Elias’s height and build.
Face partially hidden.
Then another lead.
A clinic in Oregon had treated an unidentified man after a roadside accident around the same time.
Memory loss.
Broken ribs.
No identification.
He disappeared from the clinic before authorities established who he was.
Selian wanted to leave immediately.
Saraphene understood.
She also saw the danger.
Not from Marcus.
Not Victor.
From obsession.
“Wait for verified information.”
“I've waited three years.”
“You've searched three years.”
“Exactly.”
“And Elias told you not to sacrifice your life to find him.”
Selian looked frustrated.
“He could be alive.”
“I know.”
“You don't understand.”
Saraphene’s face hardened.
“Don't do that.”
“What?”
“Tell me I don't understand fear because mine looks different.”
Selian stopped.
She continued.
“For eight months I woke up wondering whether Trent would be outside my home. I changed routes. Jobs. Locks. My life became organized around him.”
His expression softened.
“I know.”
“No. Listen.”
He did.
“I finally stopped letting the search for danger decide everything I did. If you chase every rumor about Elias without stopping to ask whether it's real, you're still letting the person who hurt him control your life.”
Selian looked away.
Saraphene touched his hand.
“You can search.”
He looked back.
“But live while you do it.”
His fingers closed gently around hers.
“Come with me.”
“To Oregon?”
“Yes.”
“Is that an order?”
“Absolutely not.”
She smiled.
“Then yes.”
Before they could leave, another problem emerged.
Marcus Ashford offered federal prosecutors a deal.
Full cooperation.
Information on decades of financial crimes.
Political corruption.
Organized crime.
In exchange for reduced sentencing and protective custody.
Selian was furious.
“He disappears for eleven years, destroys Elias’s life and bargains his way into a comfortable prison.”
Saraphene sat beside him in a courthouse hallway.
“You can't control the sentence.”
“No.”
“You can control what you do next.”
“I dislike how often you're right.”
“Get used to it.”
He glanced at her.
“You plan to be around that long?”
Saraphene immediately became quiet.
Selian noticed.
He did not push.
That was another thing he had learned.
They traveled west two days later.
The clinic records were incomplete.
The unknown patient had called himself Eli.
That was enough to keep hope alive.
A nurse remembered him.
“Quiet man,” she said. “Polite. Frightened.”
“Did he say where he was going?” Selian asked.
“He talked about architecture.”
Selian inhaled sharply.
“He kept drawing buildings.”
“Do you have them?”
The nurse found an old scanned page.
A sketch.
A waterfront building in Seattle.
Selian recognized it.
One of Elias’s university projects.
They followed the clue.
The building existed.
A community housing nonprofit had constructed a similar design two years earlier.
The project architect used the name Eli Ward.
Selian stopped outside the office.
Saraphene stood beside him.
“You want me to go first?”
“No.”
His voice shook.
“I need to.”
They entered.
A receptionist looked up.
“Can I help you?”
“I'm looking for Eli Ward.”
“He's on site today.”
“Where?”
Twenty minutes later, they stood across the street from a construction project.
Workers moved between scaffolding.
A man in a hard hat stood with blueprints.
Dark hair.
Slightly thinner.
A scar near one temple.
Selian stopped.
The entire world seemed to stop with him.
“Elias.”
The man looked up.
No recognition.
Selian crossed the street slowly.
Saraphene stayed behind.
The man watched him approach.
“Can I help you?”
Selian tried to speak.
Nothing came.
Then:
“My name is Selian Ashford.”
The man’s face changed.
Not recognition.
Pain.
He pressed his fingers to his temple.
“Do I know you?”
Selian’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Elias stepped back.
“I’m sorry.”
“It's okay.”
“No, I—I don't remember.”
“It's okay.”
Selian’s voice broke.
Saraphene covered her mouth.
For three years Selian had imagined finding a brother who would recognize him immediately.
Instead, Elias was alive and still partly lost.
But alive.
That was enough.
Selian showed him photographs.
Their mother.
Sophia.
Mrs. Vale.
Childhood.
Memories arrived in fragments.
A piano.
A dog.
A summer house.
Then Elias looked at a photograph of Selian as a teenager.
He whispered, “You broke my nose.”
Selian laughed and cried at the same time.
“You deserved it.”
Elias smiled uncertainly.
“I remember that.”
Selian pulled him into an embrace.
Elias stiffened.
Then slowly returned it.
Saraphene turned away, giving them privacy.
Later, Elias explained.
He had escaped Victor’s men after meeting Marcus.
His car went off the road.
The accident caused a head injury.
He remembered pieces but believed returning east would endanger anyone he contacted.
Over time, memory returned slowly.
Not enough to trust it.
He built a quiet life.
Then recent news reports about the Ashford investigation brought everything back in fragments.
“I was planning to contact authorities,” he said.
Selian smiled.
“You always did prefer paperwork.”
Elias looked at Saraphene.
“And you are?”
Selian answered too quickly.
“Saraphene.”
Elias glanced between them.
“Just Saraphene?”
She smiled.
“For now.”
Selian looked offended.
Elias laughed.
A genuine laugh.
And for the first time in years, Selian heard his brother laugh again.
But their happiness lasted less than one day.
That evening Ramirez called.
Trent Morrison had disappeared from protective custody.
This time, investigators believed he had left willingly.
And before leaving, he sent Saraphene one final message.
I need you to understand why I did it. Meet me where we first met.
Saraphene stared at the screen.
The bookstore.
The beginning.
Selian looked at her.
“You're not going.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He closed his eyes.
“Sorry.”
“Try again.”
He exhaled.
“Please don't go.”
Saraphene looked back at Trent’s message.
For eight months, every part of her had run from that man.
Now, finally, she knew she didn't need to.
“No,” she said.
Selian relaxed.
Saraphene deleted the message.
May you like
“He doesn't get another ending with me.”
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