(Chapter Six: A New Beginning.)
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Morning arrived like a hand smoothing the wrinkles out of the night. A thin bar of sun slipped under the shutters, turned the forge smoke to ribbon, and found the chest behind the workbench exactly as John had left it.
He lifted the lid, counted with quiet fingers, and let the math settle his mind: three neat stacks of big coins, five squat piles of small ones, and the lonely clink of a pair that refused to join anything. All present. No pry marks on the lock. No scuff on the sill. No footprint where a footprint should not be.
So. Nobody had come for the money after all.
John closed the chest, turned the key, and tucked it under the ledger in its usual place. He stood a moment longer with his palm on the wood, measuring his own surprise. Some part of him had expected a test in the night. Another part had prepared for it, even welcomed it. But sometimes silence told you more than noise.
