Chapter 134 The Brother Who Stayed
Chapter 134 The Brother Who Stayed
Dylan's POV
Samuel held the wooden flute as though it might vanish if he loosened his grip.
His thumb traced the tiny flowers carved into the smooth wood, stopping at a small nick near the mouthpiece.
"I remember this."
His voice carried quiet certainty.
"Eliza's brother carved these flowers himself."
Anthony stepped closer, curiosity shining in his eyes.
"How do you know it's the same one?"
Samuel smiled faintly.
"He was proud of this flute."
"He carried it everywhere."
"He also dropped it almost every week."
He pointed to the tiny mark.
"That's where it cracked after falling onto a stone."
Caleb examined it carefully.
"So someone has kept this for years."
"Yes."
Samuel's smile faded.
"I just don't know who."
Gideon invited everyone back into the farmhouse before the evening grew colder.
The lanterns filled the kitchen with a warm glow while Ruth prepared fresh tea.
Grace sat beside Anthony and Daniel, watching the flute rest in the middle of the table.
"It doesn't look magical."
Anthony looked up.
"I don't think it is."
"It's just old."
Samuel nodded.
"Sometimes ordinary things carry the strongest memories."
Grace thought about that for a moment.
"My grandmother kept my grandfather's hat."
"She said it reminded her that love leaves traces."
Miriam smiled.
"Your grandmother was a wise woman."
Renwick leaned against the fireplace.
"I've got a question."
Samuel looked over.
"I'm listening."
"If Eliza had a younger brother..."
He glanced at the flute.
"...why didn't he ever come looking for you?"
Samuel rested both hands around the instrument.
"He did."
The answer surprised everyone.
"He searched for months."
"I remember meeting him near the southern river."
"What happened?" Dylan asked.
"I told him to stop."
Renwick frowned.
"You sent him away?"
"I believed I was protecting him."
Samuel's eyes drifted toward the window.
"I was convinced the Voice wanted anyone connected to me."
"So you pushed him away."
"I thought it was the only way to keep him alive."
Miriam gave a slow nod.
"Grief often convinces people that distance is kindness."
Samuel let out a weary breath.
"I've wondered ever since whether I made the right choice."
A comfortable hush filled the room as everyone reflected on his words.
The crackling fire became the only sound for a while.
Anthony eventually broke the quiet.
"What was his name?"
Samuel smiled.
"Micah."
"Was he nice?"
"He talked too much."
Grace laughed.
"I talk too much."
Samuel chuckled.
"So did he."
"He believed every stranger would become a friend if you spoke to them long enough."
Daniel grinned.
"I like him already."
"So did most people."
Later that evening, Dylan stepped outside to check the horses.
The sky was clear, revealing more stars than clouds.
Caleb joined him beside the fence.
"You've been thinking."
"I usually am."
"This is different."
Dylan smiled.
"You've started reading me too well."
Caleb folded his arms.
"The basket."
"The flute."
"The embroidered cloth."
"They don't feel like the Voice."
"I agree."
Caleb looked across the fields.
"Someone else has been moving through these valleys."
"Helping people?"
"Or leaving them breadcrumbs."
Dylan considered the thought.
"Why stay hidden?"
"Maybe they don't know whether we're allies."
That possibility hadn't crossed my mind.
Whoever had left those objects never demanded trust.
They simply left clues and disappeared.
Almost as though they were waiting to see what kind of people we were.
Inside, Tessa tucked a blanket around Anthony.
"You've had a long day."
"I know."
"But I keep thinking."
"About what?"
"The person leaving all the gifts."
"They aren't really gifts."
Anthony shook his head.
"I think they are."
Tessa brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
"Why?"
"Because they help people remember."
His answer lingered with her after he closed his eyes.
Memory.
Family.
Hope.
Everything the Voice tried to imitate.
Everything these small objects quietly protected.
Just before dawn, Samuel woke to the faint sound of music.
Not the haunting melody of the Voice.
This tune was simple.
Gentle.
It lasted only a few seconds before fading.
He reached for the flute lying beside his bed.
The wood felt warm.
Curious, he stepped outside.
Morning mist rested lightly across Gideon's fields.
Near the old apple tree stood a young man.
His back faced the farmhouse.
He wore a weathered brown coat, and a travelling bag rested over one shoulder.
Samuel's heart began to race.
The stranger slowly lifted another wooden flute to his lips and played the same short tune again.
This time, Samuel recognised it instantly.
Eliza used to hum that melody while working in her father's garden.
His voice trembled.
"Micah..."
The young man lowered the flute.
For several long moments, he simply stared.
Then a smile spread slowly across his face.
"I wasn't sure it was really you."
Samuel crossed the distance between them with hurried steps.
"You've grown."
Micah laughed softly.
"So have you."
The brothers embraced beneath the apple tree, years of separation giving way to quiet relief.
Dylan, awakened by the voices outside, stepped onto the porch with Tessa beside him.
Neither interrupted.
Some reunions deserved the chance to unfold without questions.
When the two men finally stepped apart, Micah looked toward Dylan.
"I've been trying to find your group for weeks."
"You were the one leaving the clues?" Dylan asked.
Micah nodded.
"I couldn't risk walking straight into the wrong camp."
He glanced toward the farmhouse where the others were beginning to wake.
"So I watched."
"I waited."
"And I hoped."
Dylan smiled.
"You can stop watching from a distance now."
Micah returned the smile, though concern quickly replaced it.
"I wish I'd found you sooner."
"What changed?"
Micah's eyes turned toward the eastern hills.
"I've seen something moving beyond the old watchtower."
His expression grew serious.
"And whatever it is..."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"...even the Voice is avoiding it."