The Drone

Elias was listening. For thirty years, that had been his only weapon, his only defense against a world that had tried to erase him. He had listened to the vents, to the floorboards, to the lies whispered in the dark.

And now, he was listening to the silence of the Carriage House.

Iris and Marcus sat in the rental car, the engine idling. The tape player lay on the console between them, a plastic witness to a decades-old crime.

"We can't go back," Marcus said, echoing Iris's thoughts. "The place is swarming with cops. If we step foot on the property, we're arrested for violating bail."

"But we can't leave him there," Iris argued, staring out the window at the distant glow of the estate's security lights. "If Sabrina is Mrs. Gable's daughter... if Julian adopted her to buy the housekeeper's silence... then Sabrina is the leverage. But she's also the victim."

"She's a victim who just sold you out," Marcus reminded her. "She told Julian everything."

"Because she's scared," Iris said. "Because she thinks her life depends on his money. But if she knew the truth... if she knew she wasn't a Vance..."

"How do we tell her?" Marcus asked. "We can't call her. We can't go to her."

Iris looked at the bag of gear Marcus had salvaged from his truck before he sold it. A flashlight. A multitool.

And a gray, hard-shell case.

"The drone," she said.

Marcus followed her gaze. "It's a toy, Iris. I use it for roof inspections. It has a range of maybe a mile."

"The Carriage House is half a mile from the road," Iris said. "It has a camera. We can see inside. We can see if he's okay."

"And then what?" Marcus asked. "We can't fly a rescue mission with a quadcopter."

"No," Iris said, picking up the tape. "But we can deliver a message."

They drove to a scenic overlook on the ridge above the estate. From here, the valley was a patchwork of shadows and moonlight. The ruins of Mercer Hall were a smoldering black scar on the landscape, but the Carriage House stood untouched, its slate roof gleaming wetly.

Marcus set up the drone on the hood of the car. He synced it to his phone. The rotors whirred to life, a high-pitched insect hum.

"The battery is at 40%," he warned. "We have maybe ten minutes of flight time."

"Get us to the skylights," Iris said.

The drone lifted off, disappearing into the dark. On the phone screen, the world tilted and spun, resolving into a bird's-eye view of the trees.

Marcus navigated by the screen, his thumbs deft on the controller. They flew over the treeline, over the garden wall, toward the Carriage House.

"There," Iris pointed.

The skylights were glowing rectangles in the dark roof.

Marcus lowered the drone. The camera focused.

Through the glass, they could see the upstairs hallway. They could see the door to the bedroom.

But the bedroom was empty.

"He moved him again," Iris whispered, panic rising.

"Wait," Marcus said. "Look at the other window."

He banked the drone, hovering over the second skylight. This one looked down into the main living area. The room with the fireplace.

Julian was there. He was sitting in the armchair, a drink in his hand. He looked relaxed. Victorious.

And on the rug, sitting cross-legged, was Sabrina. She wasn't crying anymore. She was staring at the fire, her face blank.

"Where is Elias?" Iris breathed.

Marcus flew lower, the drone buzzing against the glass. Julian looked up, frowning.

"He hears it," Marcus said. "I have to pull back."

"No," Iris said. "Look in the corner."

In the shadows, away from the firelight, was a third figure.

He was sitting on a wooden chair, his hands bound behind his back with zip ties. His head was bowed.

Elias.

He was still there.

"Okay," Iris said. "Bring it back. We need to attach the payload."

Marcus flew the drone back to the ridge. He landed it on the hood.

Iris took a piece of paper from the glove box. She wrote on it in thick, black marker.

*YOU ARE NOT A VANCE.*
*ASK MRS. GABLE ABOUT SARAH.*
*ELIAS IS INNOCENT.*

She taped the note to the bottom of the drone. Then she taped the cassette.

"It's too heavy," Marcus said. "It won't fly right."

"It just has to fly one way," Iris said.

"And how do we get them to read it?"

"We don't," Iris said. "We crash it."

Marcus looked at her. He looked at the drone. He looked at the burning determination in her eyes.

"Okay," he said. "One way trip."

He launched the drone again. It wobbled, fighting the weight of the truth strapped to its belly.

They flew back to the Carriage House. Back to the skylights.

"Which one?" Marcus asked.

"The living room," Iris said. "Right in front of Sabrina."

Marcus lined it up. He took a breath.

"Sending it."

He cut the power to the rotors.

The drone dropped like a stone.

It smashed through the skylight glass with a deafening crash.

On the screen, for a split second before the signal died, Iris saw the room explode in confusion. Julian jumping up. Sabrina screaming.

The drone hit the floor, skidding across the Persian rug.

The camera looked down. A face looked up. Gaunt, gray-haired, but eyes like Iris's.