Chapter 49 - The Truth of the Collapse
Clara scrambled through the debris, her revolver pointed directly at her father’s chest. Arthur lay slumped on the floor, clutching his ruined knee, but his face twisted into a sneering laugh.
"Shoot me, Clara," he spat, blood bubbling on his lip. "Pull the trigger! But you’ll never outrun the blood in your veins. You think Blackwood loves you? You think this whole crusade was about justice?"
Caleb stumbled back inside, clutching his bruised side, his revolver drawn. "It’s over, Thornton. The munitions are gone. The mountain batteries are useless. Your army is retreating into the timber."
"You naive mountain pup," Arthur gasped, coughing violently. "Who do you think hired me to sabotage the bridge ten years ago? Who do you think paid the first five thousand dollars to ensure the Blackwood family went bankrupt?"
Caleb went rigid. "Sterling."
"Not Sterling!" Arthur laughed hysterically, pointing a trembling, bloodstained finger at Clara. "It was her mother! Eleanor Thornton funded the syndicate! She wanted to destroy your father because he held the mortgage on her family's ancestral land in Virginia! She planned the bridge collapse that killed your brothers!"
The air in the room seemed to vanish.
Caleb's eyes widened, his gaze darting from the dying patriarch on the floor to Clara, who stood paralyzed, the world tilting beneath her feet.
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"No..." Clara whispered, her skin turning white as marble. "My mother... she was a saint..."
"She was a viper who wore white silk!" Arthur hissed. "And you, daughter... you brought her legacy back to life."
