Eve
Montegue didn't speak for a moment. His mouth opened, then closed again. The tremble in his hand stilled, but something new crept into his expression. Not fear. Not skepticism. Something far heavier.
He knelt slowly, lowering himself to Elliot's level, eyes locked on the boy like he was trying to peer into the very marrow of him.
"How are you seeing this?" he asked, voice low. Not demanding. Just… lost. "Elliot, how do you know all this?"
Elliot looked up at him, blinking once, then again. His brows furrowed, like he'd only just realized what he'd said out loud.
"I don't know," he said softly. "Grandpa, I don't know."
The words were so innocent, so painfully sincere, that the silence that followed was deafening.
Montegue's shoulders stiffened slightly. His eyes didn't leave Elliot's face.
He swallowed once, hard. "But what you see… it's real? You're not pretending?"
