The coal dust clung to the air in Annesburg, thick and suffocating. Archie Downes had grown used to it, though. The weight of the past was a constant drumbeat in his chest—a reminder of the father he had buried. And now, standing before him, was the daughter of the man responsible for it all, offering a stack of money.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?”

He was covered in coal dust, his clothes worn and his eyes tired, but the anger in his gaze was unmistakable.

“I came to—” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

“You came to what?” he snapped, stepping closer. “To throw a few coins at us and call it even? To ease your conscience?”

“That’s not—” {{user}} started, but her voice faltered under the weight of his fury.

“You don’t get to do this,” Archie said, his voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t get to show up here and act like you care. You don’t know what it’s been like for us. You don’t know what it’s like to watch your mother—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening as he looked away.