THE LIVING WORLD – JANUARY 5TH – THE INVITATION
The envelope arrived on a Tuesday. Cream-colored paper. Gold embossing. A wax seal with a dragon crest.
Happy stared at it like it was a snake.
Chloe picked it up. "It's from Dragan. His birthday. January 18th. You're invited."
"I'm not going."
"Happy, you have to. Everyone who is anyone will be there. Bankers. Investors. Politicians. This is business."
"This is a trap."
Chloe put her hand on his shoulder. "You taught me something, remember? Keep your enemies closer than your friends. You said that."
Happy closed his eyes. She was right. Mei had taught him flow. Kenji had taught him stillness. But the oldest lesson came from Georgi know your enemy. Watch him. Learn him. And when the time comes, strike where he does not expect.
"Fine. I'll go."
Chloe smiled. "And?"
"And I'm going to find Sofia. The orphanages in Velania are not replying to emails. I have to go there myself. Dig through records. Find someone who remembers."
Chloe squeezed his hand. "Then go. Find her. Bring her home."
THE FROZEN REALM – JANUARY 15TH – FINN'S ADVICE
The Lost Hour came. Happy walked to the frozen courtyard. Finn was waiting, his silver eyes calm, his translucent coat glowing in the frozen moonlight.
"You have five days of rest, Rememberer. From January 15th to January 20th. I ordered it. You need it."
"I know. But on January 18th, I have to go to Dragan's birthday party."
Finn raised an eyebrow.
"The dragon's . Dangerous."
"I also have to find Sofia. The orphanages are not replying. I have to go physically. Search every record. Find someone who remembers her."
Finn was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"Then use these five days wisely. Rest your body during the day. But during the Lost Hour, I will show you the Frozen Realm – not for training, but for understanding."
He led Happy through Layer One. Hundreds of Nameless Bound, Faded, old, young, from every century, every country. They bowed as he passed.
"This is your army, Rememberer. Not to fight. To save. Every one you free gives you an Hour. Every Hour makes you stronger."
Happy walked among them. He touched their translucent hands. He whispered their names when he could.
"On January 18th, you will go to the dragon's party. You will smile. You will shake his hand. And then you will go to Elara's homeland. You will find her daughter. That is your mission. Not fighting. Not training. Saving."
"I understand."
"Good. Now rest. The next few days will be hard."
The Lost Hour ended.
JANUARY 17TH
Happy had never owned a private jet. But HES Cakes had a corporate account now. The jet was small twelve seats, leather interiors, a mini kitchen. He sat by the window, watching Seattle disappear below the clouds.
Chloe had wanted to come. He said no.
"This is personal, Chloe. Elara's daughter. I have to do this alone."
"Then at least take the jet. You're a CEO now. Act like one."
He smiled. "Insane works."
The flight to Velania took nine hours. He slept for six of them. Mei's flow. Kenji's stillness. He dreamed of a girl with blonde hair, sitting on a fallen log, waiting.
Elara, he thought. I'm coming for her.
JANUARY 18TH – DRAGAN'S BIRTHDAY
The party was held at Dragan's waterfront mansion a glass-and-stone palace overlooking the cold January sea. Valets in red uniforms parked Bentleys and Lamborghinis. A red carpet led to the entrance. Paparazzi lined the gates.
Happy stepped out of his limousine. He wore a black suit – simple, elegant, expensive. He carried a white box tied with a gold ribbon.
Inside the box: the last Christmas special cake. The one he had saved for himself.
A waiter approached. "Sir, may I take that?"
"No. This is for Dragan. Personal."
He walked into the mansion. Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. A string quartet playing Vivaldi. Hundreds of guests – businessmen, celebrities, politicians – all drinking champagne, all laughing, all performing.
And there, at the center of it all, stood Dragan.
Gray hair. Sharp eyes. A smile that had been perfected over decades. He wore a white suit with a red rose in his lapel.
"Happy! You came!"
Dragan crossed the room and embraced him. The hug was warm, firm, theatrical. Happy felt his skin crawl. But he remembered Finn's words. He remembered Mei's calm. He smiled.
"Happy birthday, Dragan. I brought you a cake. The Christmas special. The last one."
Dragan's eyes glittered. "You shouldn't have."
"Everyone should have cake on their birthday."
Dragan took the box. He opened it. The honey and cinnamon smell filled the air. Guests turned their heads.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dragan announced, "my young friend Happy has brought me a cake. I will not cut any other cake on my birthday. I will cut Happy's cake. Let us become friends. Real friends."
The crowd applauded. Happy smiled.
Inside, his heart was cold.
You murdered Elara. You stole her recipes. And now you want to be my friend.
I learned calm from Mei. I learned stillness from Kenji. I learned patience from the samurai.
I will smile. I will shake your hand. I will eat your food. And then I will find Sofia.
Later, Happy wandered through the mansion. He needed air. He needed distance.
He stepped onto a balcony overlooking the sea. The wind was cold. The stars were bright.
And then he saw him.
A priest. Elderly. White hair. A gold cross around his neck. He was standing alone, smoking a cigarette the glow of it orange in the darkness.
Happy's blood went cold.
I know that face. Where have I seen it?
Memory clicked. The old newspaper articles. The photos of the exorcism. The man who helped Dragan steal Elara's recipes. The man who called her a witch.
The priest.
Happy walked toward him. "Father?"
The priest turned. Their eyes met.
Recognition. Then fear. The priest's face went pale. He dropped his cigarette and hurried inside.
Happy followed. "Father, wait! I just want to talk!"
But the priest was gone. Lost in the crowd. Happy searched the ballroom, the garden, the hallways. Nothing.
He knows who I am. He knows what I'm doing. And he's afraid.
Happy returned to the party. He smiled. He shook hands. He made small talk.
But his mind was already in Elara's hometown.
JANUARY 19TH – THE SEARCH BEGINS
The party ended at midnight. Happy did not sleep. He drove straight to the eastern valleys of Velania. Elara's birthplace. A small town forgotten by time.
The sun rose over the mountains. Happy stood in the town square, holding a photograph of Elara.
He went to every orphanage within fifty kilometers.
The first orphanage: "Sofia? No record."
The second: "We have no girl by that name."
The third: "You are the fifth person to ask about this girl. Who are you?"
Happy showed his ID. "I'm her mother's friend. Please."
The nun shook her head. "I cannot help you."
By noon, he had visited six orphanages. Nothing.
Then he found it. The seventh. A gray stone building with iron gates. A sign that said "St. Klara's Home for Children." But the sign was faded. The gates were chained. The building was empty.
Closed. A year ago.
Happy found a nearby café. The owner was an old woman with kind eyes.
"Excuse me," he said. "The orphanage. What happened to it?"
The woman looked away. "Closed. A year ago. The owner... retired."
"Who owned it?"
She hesitated. Then she whispered, "Dragan Petrovic. He took it over eight years ago. Used it for his own purposes. Last year, he transferred the remaining children to other homes. The building was sold."
Happy's heart pounded. "A girl named Sofia. She would have been brought here eight years ago. Blonde. Thin. Would you know where she went?"
The woman shook her head. "I don't get involved with Dragan's business. But... there is a man. He was Dragan's assistant. He adopted one of the girls. A blonde. Sad eyes."
"Where does he live?"
"I cannot say. But he comes to this town sometimes. His name is Marek Kovac."
Happy wrote down the name. Marek Kovac. Dragan's assistant.
JANUARY 20TH
Happy found Marek Kovac's address. A small house on the outskirts of Vienna. Modest. Unremarkable.
He sat across the street, watching.
A man came out. Marek. Middle-aged. Thin. Nervous. He wore an expensive suit that did not fit him well. He got into a black car and drove away.
Happy followed.
The car stopped at a warehouse on the industrial edge of the city. Marek went inside. Happy waited.
An hour later, a young man came out. Dark hair. Tired eyes. He wore a cheap uniform – a driver's suit, worn at the cuffs. He walked to a rusted bicycle and unlocked it.
Happy approached him. "Excuse me. You work for Marek Kovac?"
The young man looked around nervously. "Who's asking?"
"My name is Happy. I'm a baker. From Seattle."
The young man's eyes widened. "Happy? The HES Cakes Happy? The Christmas cake?"
"Yes."
"Oh my God. I followed your story. I wanted to buy your cake but I couldn't afford it. I'm... I'm a huge fan."
Happy smiled gently. "What's your name?"
"Tomas. I'm a driver for Marek. But really, I'm..." His voice dropped. "I'm a slave."
"A slave?"
"Marek gives us an advance on our salary. Then he adds interest. Impossible interest. We can never leave. We work for him until we die. He has dozens of us. All trapped. Cooks, cleaners, drivers, gardeners. He owns us."
Happy's blood boiled. But he kept his voice calm. "Is there a girl? Sofia? Blonde? Thin? About thirteen?" His Daughter?
Tomas's face darkened. "Yes. She's not his daughter. She's like a servant. She does all the cooking, cleaning, laundry. She doesn't go to school. She sleeps in the basement. Her foster mother Marek's wife beats her. Every day. I've seen the bruises."
Happy felt his heart crack. "You are also trapped?"
"Four years. I borrowed five hundred euros. Now I owe fifty thousand. I will never leave."
Happy put a hand on Tomas's shoulder. "Tomas, listen to me. I will pay your debt. I will free you. But I need your help."
Tomas's eyes filled with tears. "You would do that? For me?"
"Everyone deserves to be free. But first, I need to see Sofia. I need a photograph. I need to know exactly where she is."
Tomas wiped his eyes. "I can get you a photo. I will take it tonight."
"Be careful. If Marek finds out..."
"He won't. I'm invisible to him. He doesn't even know my name."
Happy nodded. "Tomorrow, same time, same place. I will have the money for your debt. You will have the photo."
Tomas shook his hand. "Thank you, sir. Thank you."
JANUARY 21ST – THE PHOTOGRAPH
Happy waited at the cafe across from the warehouse. His hands were shaking.
Tomas arrived at noon. He looked around nervously, then slipped into the seat across from Happy.
He slid a photograph across the table.
Happy picked it up.
A girl. Thirteen years old. Blonde hair, tangled and unwashed. Dark circles under her eyes. A faded blue dress, too small for her. She was standing in a kitchen, holding a pot that was bigger than her torso. Her face was thin. Her eyes were empty.
But her nose. Her cheekbones. The shape of her chin.
Elara.
She looked exactly like Elara.
Happy's vision blurred. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He did not wipe them.
"Elara," he whispered. "I found her. I found your daughter."
Tomas watched him, confused but respectful. "Sir? Are you okay?"
Happy looked up. His eyes were red, but they were burning.
"Tomas, I am going to destroy Marek Kovac. I am going to destroy Dragan. And I am going to take Sofia home. Tonight."
"Tonight? How?"
"I don't know yet. But I will find a way."
He put the photograph in his pocket, next to his heart.
Elara, I made you a promise. I will keep it. No matter what it takes.
That night, Happy sat in his hotel room. The photograph was on the table. He had not stopped looking at it.
He opened his notebook and wrote:
I found her. Sofia. Elara's daughter.
She is a servant in the house of Marek Kovac, Dragan's assistant. She does not go to school. She is beaten. She sleeps in a basement.
I have a photograph. She looks exactly like Elara. Same nose. Same cheekbones. Same sadness in her eyes.
Tomas, a slave of Marek, helped me. I will pay his debt. I will free him.
And I will free Sofia. I will take her to Seattle. I will give her a room. I will put her in school. I will teach her to bake. I will give her the life her mother wanted for her.
Elara, I kept my promise. I found her.
Now I have to bring her home.
He closed the notebook.
Outside, the Lost Hour began. But Happy did not go to the Frozen Realm.
He had something more important to do.
He had a daughter to save....