He returned to Meriden. The shop was intact—neighbors had kept the windows clean, swept the stoop. On the counter, the photograph still stood: the laughing woman in the sunflowers.
Then the audit came.
Eli locked the door and pulled the shades. He sat in the dark, listening to his own heartbeat. An Innocent Man
No one knew her name. No one asked.
Silas was arrested in Florida, where he’d been living under a different name for fifteen years. He confessed within hours, weeping that Roland had “owed him” for a bad investment. The fire had gotten out of control faster than he’d expected. He hadn’t meant to kill Dina. He hadn’t known Marisol was home. He returned to Meriden
By Thursday, a mob had formed outside Eli’s shop. Not an angry mob in the classic sense—more a quiet, righteous crowd holding phones and asking questions. “Did you kill those people?” “Why did you run?” “Are you the Innocent Man or the Guilty One?” Then the audit came