Chapter 3 - The Ghost in Leadville
The drive to Leadville was silent and agonizing. Ava had refused to wait for morning. She had ordered her private security SUV, forcing Marcy to cancel all her corporate meetings for the next three days. Daniel sat in the passenger seat, while Lily slept peacefully in the back, wrapped in a soft cashmere blanket Ava had given her.
"He lived in a small cabin behind my workshop," Daniel said softly, staring out at the dark, snow-capped peaks of the Rockies passing by the window. "When my wife, Emily, got sick three years ago, I was drowning in medical debt. I couldn't afford rent, let alone food. Arthur showed up out of nowhere. He didn't ask for money. He just started helping me restore furniture. He had these hands... they were rough, but they knew exactly how to fix things. Just like he used to be an engineer or something."
Ava choked back a sob. Nathan had been the chief engineer of Hawthorne AeroSystems. He could build a commercial aircraft engine from scratch, but his favorite hobby was fixing old wooden birdhouses in their backyard.
"He gave me the necklace six months ago," Daniel continued, his voice heavy with sorrow. "Right before he... right before he went into the hospital. He said it brought him comfort, but he knew I needed the strength more than he did. He told me to keep it as a reminder that no matter how lost you are, a compass always points home."
"Where is he now, Daniel?" Ava asked, her knuckles white on the door handle. "Is he still in Leadville?"
"He's at the St. Jude Medical Care Facility just outside the town," Daniel replied quietly. "His health has been declining rapidly. The doctor said the old head trauma from his accident caused progressive neurological damage. Most days, he doesn't even know what year it is."
An hour later, the SUV pulled into the gravel parking lot of a quiet, low-funded care facility surrounded by pine trees. The air was crisp and freezing.
Ava’s legs felt like lead as she followed Daniel down the dimly lit corridor of the facility. The smell of antiseptic and old paper filled her nose. Daniel stopped outside Room 114. He turned to Ava, his face filled with deep empathy.
"He might not look like you remember, Mrs. Hawthorne," Daniel warned gently. "Time and sickness have been cruel to him."
Ava nodded, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She pushed the door open.
The room was small, lit only by a single bedside lamp. On the narrow bed lay a man with graying hair and a thin, frail frame. His face was lined with deep wrinkles, and a long, faded scar ran from his temple down to his jawline. He was staring out the window at the dark mountains, his eyes blank and unfocused.
Ava took three slow steps into the room. The world around her ceased to exist. Despite the age, the scars, and the silver hair, she recognized the shape of his jaw. She recognized the slope of his shoulders.
"Nathan..." she whispered.
May you like
The man on the bed didn't move at first. Then, very slowly, his head turned toward the sound of her voice. His gray eyes—the exact same gray eyes as the ones she had cried over for eight years—blinked in the dim light.
He looked at her, but there was no recognition. Only the polite, hollow curiosity of a stranger. "Hello," he said, his voice raspy and deep. "Are you here for the furniture repairs?"
