Marlowe
I sat frozen on the small sitting room floor, King's arm around me, and let my father's voice fill the space between us, twelve years of silence broken by a recording I hadn't known existed until this exact night.
*"I don't know exactly when you'll hear this,"* Silas continued, his voice carrying a warmth I recognized instantly, impossibly, from nothing but old photographs and other people's careful memories. *"Could be years from now. Could be never, if I'm wrong about all this and I'm just being an overly cautious father talking to a recorder instead of getting some sleep before an early ride tomorrow. But I'd rather leave this somewhere safe than say nothing at all."*
I gripped King's hand tighter, unable to look away from the small cassette player like it might somehow disap
