Leah Gagnon — Point of View
Leah replayed the footage again, fingers trembling as she zoomed in on the man with the limp. There was the yellow patch on the black jacket, and the way he scanned the tree line instead of the road. Eliza, Evan, and Hayes stood behind her, silent. Leah swallowed. “He’s checking the BR‑12 access road. Two nights ago.”
Hayes leaned in. “He’s scared. Look at his posture.”
Evan nodded. “He’s not patrolling. He’s watching for someone.”
Eliza’s voice was low. “He’s watching for us.”
Leah froze the frame again. The man looked up — at the camera — as if he wanted someone to see him. Leah whispered, “He knows we’re coming.”
The door opened behind them.
###
Elijah Greyhawk — Point of View
Elijah stepped into the room, rubbing the back of his neck. He’d been sitting with Aiyana until she drifted into a fragile sleep. He hadn’t meant to interrupt. But the moment he saw the screen, he stopped cold.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Leah turned, startled. “Elijah—”
He didn’t wait. He moved closer, eyes narrowing at the frozen image. A man. Black jacket. Yellow patch. Left‑side limp. Elijah’s breath caught. Aiyana’s voice echoed in his mind: The man said, "Don’t look at me." And that he had a limp. He appeared to be scared. And said, “I’m sorry.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened. “That’s him,” he whispered. “That’s the man she remembers.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza watched Elijah’s posture shift — the stillness before a storm. “Elijah,” she said, “we were going to brief you—”
Elijah shook his head, eyes locked on the screen. “He’s real,” Elijah murmured. “He’s not just a memory. That man is out there.”
Hayes stepped forward. “We think he’s connected to Solstice Protection. A contractor. Maybe low‑level.”
Elijah didn’t look away from the screen. “He’s not one of them,” he said. “Not the ones running things.”
Evan nodded. “We think he fears the others.”
Elijah’s voice dropped. “He tried to help her.”
###
Leah Gagnon — Point of View
Leah replayed the footage. The man knelt near the ditch, brushing aside dead grass. He checked something — a marker, a sensor, a buried line — then stood, wincing as he put weight on his left leg.
Elijah leaned closer. “What’s he doing?” he asked.
Leah swallowed. “I think… he’s checking for tampering.”
Hayes added, “Or disabling something.”
Eliza’s voice sharpened. “Or warning someone.”
Elijah’s hands curled into fists. “He’s trying to survive,” he said. “And he’s trying to keep the kids alive.”
###
Elijah Greyhawk — Point of View
Elijah stared at the man’s face — half‑shadowed, half‑turned — but the fear was unmistakable. Aiyana had seen that fear. A child had recognized it. Elijah realized something else: this man wasn’t a monster. He found himself trapped, just like the kids. Elijah exhaled. “We need to find him,” he said, “before they do.”
Hayes nodded. “Agreed.”
Elijah turned. “No. You don’t understand.”
Everyone looked at him. Elijah’s voice was low, steady, and dangerous. “If the network realizes he’s helping… they’ll kill him.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on Elijah’s arm. “We’re going to find him,” she said. “But we do it smartly.”
Elijah didn’t look away from the screen. “He’s the only adult who ever tried to help those kids,” he said. “Aiyana trusted him. She remembered him.”
Leah whispered, “He looked at the camera. Like he wanted someone to see him.”
Elijah nodded. “He’s asking for help.”
###
Carter Hayes — Point of View
Hayes cleared his throat. “There’s something else,” he said. “Whitfield warned me that once we move on BR‑12, the network will know. They’ll respond.”
Elijah turned. “How?”
Hayes shook his head. “We don’t know. But they won’t run.”
Elijah’s jaw tightened. “Good,” he said. “Let them stay.”
Eliza shot him a sharp look. “Elijah—”
He didn’t back down. “They’ve taken enough. Hurt enough. Hidden enough.”
He pointed to the screen. “That man is our way in. And our way out.”
###
Eliza Morningstar — Point of View
Eliza took a slow breath.
“Elijah,” she said, “we’re going to find him. But we do it together. And we do it.”
Elijah tore his eyes from the screen. “Then let’s start.”
Eliza nodded. Because the moment Elijah walked into that room, the investigation changed. The stakes changed. And BR‑12 was no longer just a site. It was a countdown.