The next day, Simon arrived at the office again, his mind piecing together the puzzles. Philip had called him to meet, knowing the topic of conversation they would discuss.
He walked past the coffee counter, his eyes catching the person he didn't expect to see there.
"Sara?" Simon called out.
Sara flinched slightly, turned around. "Oh, hey."
"Weren't you supposed to be at Loster's today?"
"I finished the work there earlier. Just came in to submit the paperwork." Her eyes darted briefly behind Simon's back toward the hallway.
"What about you?"
"I wanted to check some files before my meeting," Simon said, matching her pace as they started walking. "Did you find anything about Cecilia?"
"Yes, I forgot to mention it with everything else going on." Sara took a sip of her coffee. "I talked with two boys—Stanley and Brian. Stanley was her tuition student, and Brian was in her class. They seemed to really like her, from what I heard from them."
"Her brother Knives. Stanley said he left the island a few days later. Also their brother and sister weren't normal."
Simon nodded.
"And yeah," Sara added. "They also said a few things about Paul. Brian kept saying it was because of Paul which led to her death."
Simon frowned, but he knew there was more.
"I asked for the reason and Brian said that Paul was awfully rude with Cecilia, the day before the accident."
Sara sighed, and continued. "Paul's response was the same. He had talked with Cecilia, telling her to focus on her job then meddling with other business. You know classic Paul behaviour."
"Did you ask what he's like at school?" Simon asked.
"Brian said he didn't even know someone named Paul Vaxlar existed in his classroom, until Cecilia once called him out. He was also being seen with a girl. Which I suppose was Varsha."
"He's adapting Good out there, then." Simon said.
"Yeah." Sara said faintly. She turned to leave.
"Have you talked with him in the last few days?"
The question stopped her. She hasn't answered any calls from Paul. "No."
"You should. After how everything went for him? He needs someone by his side."
Sara knew that. "I will try. Just not now."
"Alright then." Simon turned to the elevator, "I'll contact you if he answers my calls."
…
"Finally," Mia said, stretching her arms toward the sky. "Exams are done. Those three days were brutal as hell."
They stepped out of the school gates together. Paul walked a step ahead, his pace steady, while Mia trailed behind him lazily.
"What about you?" she asked, catching up to his side.
"Yeah."
"Yeah?" She frowned slightly. "Don't give me the cold shoulder. Or are you still mad about earlier?"
"I'm not."
"Then what is it?" She stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. "You didn't even give me any answers anyway. The teacher barely noticed."
Paul lifted his gaze to meet hers. "I'm not concerned about that."
"Then what?"
"I haven't been able to reach anyone at work for the last few days," Paul said. "I tried calling, but Sara didn't answer."
Mia scoffed. "Sara, right. Why don't you just relax? She'll call back eventually."
"Maybe."
"She has to," Mia added, nodding to herself. "Imagine ignoring your calls. I would never."
She started walking backward, keeping her eyes on Paul. He seemed a bit more relaxed now.
"So, how did the exams go? I remember what you said. You better keep your word."
"What word?"
"You forgot?" Mia stumbled slightly, but regained her posture before Paul could reach out. "At the library. Last week. You said, 'I don't need to study. I'm a genius. I know it all.'" She mimicked his flat voice perfectly.
"I remember."
"Then your name better be at the top of the list," she said. "Results come out Saturday."
"I can't say anything until the results are out."
"Don't tell me you're backing out," Mia said. "You said we'd go to the movies if you lose."
"I did?"
"Yeah, you did. Don't even try to weasel out of it."
"You'll see."
"Damn right I will," Mia replied. She noticed Paul looking past her. "But I think Varsha will be at the top. The teachers praise her like she's the golden girl of the class. I'm not jealous, but it would be nice if a teacher just once said, 'Good job, Mia.'"
"Stop."
The sudden shift in Paul's voice was like a blade. Mia froze.
"Stay here and wait for me," Paul said. He stepped around her and walked forward.
"Where are you going?" she whispered.
She turned and saw two men standing at the corner. One of them was watching Paul with a sharp, hard gaze.
Mia pulled herself close to the wall, her heart starting to race as she watched Paul approach them.
Paul walked up to them. Roxy was leaning against the wall. Paul looked at the man standing next to him.
"Speak," Paul said.
The man looked at Roxy for a second before answering. "The men in black suits came the other day. The deal is happening next Saturday."
So the day finally came. "Did you hear what they said?"
"No. Everyone was outside. Only Roman was in the room," the man said.
"Did Roman tell you to inform me?"
"No. I just... thought you should know."
He's lying.
He was sure of it. But he started to wonder—did the men in black know about him? Or did Roman just forget to mention him?
"I see," Paul nodded. "Is there anything else?"
"Yeah. They're increasing the amount by fifty percent. And there's some new contract."
Paul frowned. Fifty percent? That doesn't add up. I've seen their logistics. The most it can go is fifteen percent. So why? And what's this new contract?
I need to see it for myself.
"That was it," the man said. He turned to leave. "See you on Saturday at ten o'clock."
"Who said I'm coming?" Paul asked flatly.
The man looked surprised. "You aren't?"
"I have better things to do than watch you stupid shake hands."
"But..." The man didn't know what to say.
"But what?" Paul asked.
"I wouldn't come if I were you," Roxy said. He stepped away from the wall.
"And Why's that?" Paul turned to look at him.
"Why put your nose in when the work is already done?"
"You have a point," Paul said, thinking. "But who said my work is done?"
Roxy gave a dry laugh. "Work, yeah."
He started to walk away. "Call my gut feeling. But it's up to you, if you listen to it or not."
…
A woman in her mid-twenties moved quickly down the hall, a letter in hand. Her eyes lifted to the staircase and her stride slowed instinctively.
The young man descending the stairs noticed. She dropped her gaze.
"Sir." She extended the letter. "This arrived for you."
He looked at it. "For me?"
"I found it at my desk this morning." She turned her palm upward. Four words in ink. "And this was written on my hand."
To your little master.
He took the letter. "You didn't open it."
"No, sir."
"Good. You can go." A brief pause. "And don't sleep at your desk."
"Y–yes." The maid replied sheepishly and left.
He settled into the sofa. Plain white envelope. Nothing written on the outside. He nudged his glasses up and broke the seal.
A folded page inside. He opened it. A copy of a rough sketch.
He studied it quietly for a moment.
"I know him."
Footsteps reached his ears. He folded the sketch and glanced up.
A man in a clean suit was coming over.
"Mr. Richard Washington." Daemon said it softly.
Richard stopped, his gaze settling on the young man. "Daemon."
"You don't look well."
"Is your father available?"
"He's in his room. Though I'd wait. He's been in a difficult mood since morning."
"It's important. I'll see him anyway."
Daemon placed the folded sketch beside him. "You could tell me instead. I'm always ears to those who are in trouble."
"I can't share it."
Richard moved toward the stairs. Daemon watched him go and said nothing more.
…
Simon knocked twice.
"Enter."
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. His boss and one of the members of High table, Philip Grayson, was sitting behind the desk.
"Come, sit."
Simon crossed to the chair across from him and sat. His eyes found the sketch immediately. It lay under Philip's fingers at the edge of the desk.
"You know why I called you."
"To talk about Paul, I assume."
Philip slid the sketch across the desk without a word.
Simon picked it up. The edges of the paper were stiff with dried blood. He didn't think too long about whose. He looked at the face, then set it down.
"How much do you know?"
"Not much. Paul didn't give me much to work with. He said he remembered the voice. The night. Broad strokes of how it happened." Simon paused. "I should have informed you sooner. I didn't."
"I know you had your reasons."
"I did." Simon kept his voice even. "Paul was obsessed in a way I hadn't seen before. I made a judgment call. If I left it alone, he'd move on his own and we'd lose him completely. So I took the case and kept him adjacent to it. Enough information to hold him. Not enough to let him run."
"And the school kept him occupied." Philip leaned back slightly.
"Yes. Sara told me his relationship with Varsha had developed well. He was opening up. I thought the structure was working."
"You didn't account for what he was carrying underneath it."
"No." Simon didn't deflect it. "I thought he'd reach a point where he'd let it go on his own. I was wrong."
Philip studied him for a moment. "Can you bring him back?"
"I don't know," Simon said. Then, after a beat, "I'd like to try."
"Good." Philip's tone didn't shift, but something in it settled. "Because the alternative was the facility. And I'd rather not go there if we have options."
"Yes," Simon replied faintly, "I'm sure he doesn't want to go back either."
Philip nodded. He trusted Simon to handle this. Paul was a good worker, even with his flaws, and Philip didn't want to lose him yet.
"Do you know who that is?"