Riley's eyes bore into Old Man Hawthorne, his mind whirring with every possibility. If the old man truly remembered the loops, if he was aware of what had been happening, then maybe—just maybe—there was a chance to break free.
"We have to break the loop," Riley said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
Old Man Hawthorne shifted uncomfortably, glancing toward the still bodies of the priest and the padre. "I agree," he muttered, a strange weariness in his voice. "But it's not that simple. There are… forces at play. Forces far beyond us."
Riley felt the man's words slide off him like oil. He had heard promises before, seen allies turn to traitors, friends reveal their true intentions in the worst of ways. For now, Hawthorne was a means to an end, but trust? No. Trust was a luxury Riley couldn't afford.
