Page 68 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

The hall becomes silent, because once the possibility exists, it becomes impossible to ignore. The attacks. The disappearances. The manipulated evidence. The fear. Everything begins shifting into place. Not perfectly. Enough.

I pull another ledger closer. The dates continue bothering me. Something about them feels incomplete. A piece still missing. I begin moving farther back through the records. Older documents. Older agreements. Older incidents. The years begin blurring together.

Then another name appears. A familiar one. I pause, flip the page,and read it again. My pulse jumps. I know this story. Or rather, I know the version Moonhaven tells. A fisherman lost during a storm. An unfortunate accident. A tragedy. The kind people stop questioning after enough time passes.

I pull another record, then another. My pulse begins racing. The pattern doesn't stop. It grows. A merchant disappears. A trader dies unexpectedly. A competitor loses a vessel. The stories change. The outcome never does.

Iris notices. "What is it?"

I look at the pages and spread them across the table. The evidence stretches through decades. Not years. Decades.

My stomach turns. "No." The word leaves quietly, almost to myself.

Iris follows my gaze. The color slowly drains from her face. "You can't be serious."

I wish I wasn't. I truly do. But the documents refuse to change. The dates remain. The names remain. The deaths remain. Every few years another obstacle disappears, another rival vanishes, another opportunity opens. And somehow Aldric always benefits. Always.

The realization settles inside my chest. This isn't a recent conspiracy. This isn't a desperate reaction. This isn't someone panicking. It's a system. Refined. Patient. Careful. The kind of operation built over generations.

Iris lowers herself into a chair, slowly, as though her legs have forgotten how to work. "This has been happening for that long?"

I read the records. The answer sits right in front of us. "Longer than anyone realizes."

Silence fills the archive. Outside, life continues. People walk the streets. Ships enter the harbor. Merchants conduct business. Completely unaware.

I look down at the oldest records again. At the names nobody remembers. The families nobody talks about. The accidents everyone accepted. A cold realization settles over me. Aldric didn't create this. The pattern predates him. Which means someone taught him.

The thought is somehow worse. Because it means the conspiracy isn't merely larger than we thought. It's older. Far older.

Suddenly, I find myself wondering whether we're uncovering a secret Moonhaven was never supposed to find.

25

REINA

The clinic is busy. I knew it would be. Lisa is always busy. Storms, injuries, fishing accidents, stubborn men who think bleeding is a minor inconvenience. The woman practically runs half of Moonhaven while pretending she doesn't.

I stop outside the open doorway. Then stay there.

A fisherman limps out carrying fresh bandages. Another woman enters holding the hand of a young boy. Inside, Lisa moves between patients with practiced ease. Checking wounds. Changing dressings. Offering reassurances. Listening. Helping.

The sight should make me smile. Instead, my chest tightens. A few weeks ago I would have walked inside without thinking. Now I remain where I am. Outside. Watching.

The whispers follow me everywhere these days. The stares. The accusations. The uncertainty. Moonhaven hasn't decided whether I'm a criminal or a monster. Only that I'm dangerous.

I watch Lisa laugh at something an elderly woman says. The sound carries through the doorway. Warm, comfortable, normal. A life untouched by suspicion. A life untouched by me.

The thought settles heavily in my chest. What happens if people start talking about her? What happens if they decide she's helping me? Defending me? Hiding things for me? The town doesn't need facts anymore. Only targets.

The realization makes my feet remain planted exactly where they are.

A patient exits the clinic. The woman notices me. Her smile disappears immediately. She lowers her gaze, moves around me, keeps walking. As though standing too close might be contagious.

I stare after her. The hurt arrives quietly like it always does.

Inside the clinic, Lisa glances toward the doorway. Our eyes meet immediately. Her expression brightens. She starts toward me.

Panic flashes through my chest. I take a step backward, then another.