45. Truth
Truth
Silas
It’s well past midnight when I pound on Ruth’s door, my knuckles aching with each desperate knock. The night is still; the silence stretches thin as I wait. No movement. No sign of life.
I bang again, harder this time, my chest burning with every breath I struggle to take.
A light flickers on, casting shadows across the porch. The door creaks open, and Ruth squints against the glow. Confusion flickers in her tired eyes, and she forces a tight, uneasy smile.
“Silas? What on earth?—?”
“Tell me everything.” My voice is raw, strained.
She blinks. “I'm not sure I know?—”
“Ruth, don’t bullshit me.” The words hit sharper than I intended, but I don't care. “You know why I’m here. I saw the gravesite.”
Her expression shifts, sympathy softening the lines of her face. “So you remember?”
“More than I did this morning.” I swallow hard. “And I know she’s Caroline.”
Ruth exhales a slow sigh before she steps aside, opening the door wider.
“Come in, Silas.”
I step inside without hesitation. The house is warm, familiar.
It sits on the far edge of town, one of the last houses on the road that stretches out toward my land.
Memories of Sunday dinners and Ruth holding Kiran for the first time in the living room flash in my mind.
Ruth and Eli have been close family friends ever since I can remember.
Neither one of them ever married, instead they became our trusted friends, loving us, guiding us as first time parents, picking up the pieces after our own parents passed.
“Want some coffee?” Ruth asks, sliding a filter into the machine and scooping the grounds.
The thought of drinking anything makes my stomach churn. “No, thank you.”
As she flicks the switch, the quiet hum of brewing fills the silence. She pulls out a chair at the small kitchen table, patting the seat beside her. “Sit.”
I drop into the chair, running my hands down my face. Exhaustion clings to me, dragging me into a fog too thick to fight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Ruth exhales through her nose, fingers lacing together. “It was just after we had finished rebuilding the house when Eli saw you walk out of the stables. It was about three months after your funeral and he knew you had shifted. That you had changed.”
“Of course I fucking changed, I’m a spirit,” I snap. My breath is ragged, my pulse pounding at my temples. “Wait…if you and Eli can see me, if you see Helena, does that mean you’re spirits too?”
She shakes her head. “No. Eli and I have always seen spirits. It’s something passed down on our mother’s side for generations.”
The pieces start falling into place, slotting into a puzzle I should’ve seen long ago.
“This is why the men never acknowledged Helena,” I murmur. “Why I always let Eli handle them.”
Ruth nods. “You left the management of the ranch’s employees to Eli after Kiran was born, though. Remember?”
“True. ”
“Marcel. Fuck—” realization grips my heart, my breath stops. “Kiran. He died in the fire too.”
She rests a hand on my shoulder as she rises, crossing to pour herself a cup of coffee. The kitchen feels smaller, the air thick with too many answers and not enough time to process them.
“Marcel has walked that land since your grandparents. He was their hand.”
“And Kiran?”
The metal spoon clinks against her cup as she stirs, tapping it against the rim. She crosses back to the chair, placing her hand on my arm. “Yes, Kiran crossed.”
Tears threaten my eyes. It was hard enough to know that Caroline had suffered through the flames, but to think of my boy, my everything, meeting the same fate is too much to bear.
“I assure you, Kiran is alright. His mind was far too young to remember any of it. Usually spirits have to be older to remember how they passed.”
“That’s little consolation. God, Ruth. He was only two.” Grief settles into my very bones, heavy and spiteful. But one question still eats at my thoughts.
“So, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Silas, one thing we’ve always known, one thing we were taught as children, is that it isn’t our place to tell a spirit what it is. It can drive them mad, twist them toward vengeance, keep them tied here longer than they should be. That’s God’s work. The angels’ work. Not ours."
“But what about Helena?” My voice tightens. “Surely you knew what she was. But did you know who she was?”
Ruth gently blows over her coffee before taking a sip. “I knew she was a spirit the first morning I saw her walk into the diner. Eli figured out the rest first.” She hesitates. “She came here to save you, Silas.”
My fists clench against my thighs. “Everyone keeps saying that. But I don’t need saving. I was fine until she came back.”
“You were far from fine, Silas,” she says quietly. “Tell me, before tonight, how long has it been since you came into town? Hell, since you left that ranch?”
I hesitate. The answer doesn’t come.
“And how many men have you killed in the past four years?”
My gaze snaps to hers. The air shifts.
“Ruth,” I warn, “don’t tread where you don’t know the ground.”
Her stare doesn’t waver. “How many, Silas?”
Silence.
“Six.” The word drops like a stone. “But I had my reasons.”
“I know you did,” she says, calmly. “But with each one, you cut yourself further away. From God. From Caroline.”
“I don’t care about God?—”
“Silas Franklin Hayes!” she snaps, slamming her cup onto the table, the liquid sloshing over the rim. “I will not have you talk like that in my house.”
My jaw clenches so tightly I swear my teeth might crack. Rage coils in my chest, hot and consuming. “He didn’t care about me,” I snarl, the words scraping raw against my throat. “He took her from me. He let that fire happen.”
The fury is too much. I slam my palm against the table, the wood groaning under the force of it. ”Tell me how it happened. Tell me.”
Ruth leans back in her chair, eyes steady but wary. “If I tell you, Silas, you’ll do something you’ll regret.”
I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Don’t worry about my regrets, they already run deep. Now tell me how that fire happened.”
She exhales slowly, like she already knows there’s no stopping this.
No stopping me. Without another word, she stands and disappears into the living room.
The ticking clock on the wall is deafening in her absence.
Long, stretching seconds pass before she returns, a worn newspaper clutched in her hands.
Ruth extends it toward me, and I snatch it without hesitation. The pages are yellowed with age. My eyes flick to the date. The day after the one carved into my stone .
And then I see it.
One word.
Arson .
A slow, guttural growl rises from my chest. “Everly.”
“Silas—”
“He wanted the land so badly he was willing to kill us for it?” The realization strikes like lightning, igniting the adrenaline already searing through my veins. My vision narrows, pulse thundering in my ears.
“You can’t take his life, Silas,” Ruth pleads. “Your killing needs to stop. It’s gone far enough.”
I slam the paper onto the table, the force rattling her coffee cup.
“All this time, I thought I was just sending a warning for him to keep his hands off my legacy.” My voice drops to something dark, something lethal.
“Now I have an even better reason. Mark my words, Ruth, he will regret this for the rest of time.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver. “So now you think you’re the one to sentence him? To take his soul?”
I lean in, my voice like a blade. “If God won’t, then I will.”
She huffs, shaking her head. “Just remember Silas Hayes, while you’re out here playing law of the land, your wife has been fighting to return to you.
She came back to take you with her, to free you from this place.
That is how much she loves you, Silas. How deeply devoted she is to you.
Don’t you dare do anything to ruin that.
Don’t you want eternity with her?” Her voice shakes, but it’s fierce.
“You’ve missed her for so long, and now she’s here for you, Silas! ”
Her conviction stuns me. Stops me cold.
“SHE LIED TO ME!” I roar, the sound rattling through my ribs.
“SHE DID IT TO SAVE YOU!” Ruth throws back, her hand trembling where it grips the table.
The chair scrapes against the floor as I push to my feet. “I’ve heard enough.”
Ruth doesn’t move. “And what do you plan on doing, Silas? ”
I stride to the door, pausing just long enough to glance back. “My life continues here. My ranch. My son. My mission.”
Then I step into the night, letting the door slam behind me.