“This is Uncle Gabe,” Lily announced. “He’s with us.”
They made space for him and handed him an old blanket.
Lying on cardboard, Lily whispered, “Do you have kids?”
“Yes. Isabella and Mateo.”
“How old?”
“Eight and five.”
“Almost my age,” she said softly. “I bet they miss you.”
He closed his eyes against tears.
“Grandma said family love is like a plant. Even if it looks dead, water it.”
“With what?” he asked quietly.
“With truth.”
The next morning Lily shook him awake.
“We’re going to the public library.”
She brought him to a branch near Union Station. The librarian, Mrs. Henderson, allowed him two hours at a computer.
He inserted the flash drive. Emails from Adrian discussing “the setup.” Audio clips of laughter about pinning it on Gabriel. Contracts with duplicated signatures.
Lily’s eyes widened. “This is huge.”
Gabriel compiled everything into a clear timeline. He emailed investigative journalists, prosecutors, former colleagues. He sent message after message.
Now we wait, he thought.
“No,” Lily corrected. “Now we keep trying.”
Three days later Mrs. Henderson rushed toward the bridge.
“Gabriel! Reporters are asking for you!”
At the library, cameras waited.