A small thought flickered into Elizabeth’s mind like a fly that wouldn’t leave her ear. She rubbed her temple without meaning to, trying to shove it aside, but it kept buzzing. Finally she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She opened her mouth before she could stop herself.“What if I don’t get the job?” she asked, the words tumbling out fast. “What if they don’t take me in? What if they look at me and say no? Then what? Our whole plan — everything we’ve been talking about — it’s finished. It’s done. We’d be back to square one.”Lord Ryder did not blink. She sat very still for a breath. When she spoke, her voice sounded almost bored. “You will get the job,” she said plainly.Elizabeth stared at her. “You say that like it’s already decided. But it’s not. People change their minds. Families turn down applicants. There’s so many ways it could go wrong. You sound too sure. You should at least accept the fact it might fail so we can think about a Plan B. We can’t just rely on luck.”Ryder’s

Martha stirred slowly, her head heavy and pounding like drums beating against her skull. For a long moment, she couldn’t make sense of where she was. Everything was blurry, and when she blinked, she realized it wasn’t her vision failing — it was the room.The place around her was dark. Not completely black, but dim enough that she could barely make out the outlines of the walls. A faint yellow bulb flickered overhead, casting strange shadows across the damp floor.Her chest heaved as panic struck her. She tried to lift her hands but froze when she felt the pull of something tight digging into her wrists. Her ankles too — bound. Cold metal dug into her skin.Her memory came rushing back like a flood, and she gasped.She remembered skipping happily down the street earlier that day, clutching her groceries, thinking of how her life was about to change with her new job as a caregiver. She had been so excited. So foolishly excited. Then the feeling of being watched. The rush of fear. The

Elizabeth stood in front of the bathroom mirror, the steam from her hot shower still clinging to the glass, blurring her reflection. She leaned forward, palms pressed against the counter, her breath uneven as she studied herself. Her face looked calm, perfectly put together with the light makeup she had carefully applied — but she could see the truth in her eyes. Fear. Doubt. She could feel it in her chest that she was not ready for this.She whispered to her reflection, almost like she was talking to someone else.“You can do this. You can. You’ve done harder things. This is just another role. Just another game.”Her voice cracked, betraying her nerves. She hated how small it sounded.Wrapping the towel around her body, she walked back into the hotel room, her clothes already laid out on the bed. Lord Ryder had insisted on them — neat but modest, the kind of outfit that screamed professionalism without arrogance. A plain cream blouse, a knee-length navy skirt, and a pair of low-hee

Ryan picked up the phone slowly, pressing it against his ear.“Hello?” he said, his tone steady.On the other end, a familiar voice came through. “Ryan,” the man said warmly. “This is Harrison. Harrison Grant.”“Mr. Harrison,” he replied, his voice polite even though he already knew who he was. “Good day.”“Good day Ryan,” Mr. Harrison said, “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”“No, you’re not,” Ryan answered. “Please, go ahead.”There was a small pause, the sound of papers being shifted in the background before Mr. Harrison spoke again. “The board members have met after today’s session,” he said carefully. “And we have decided that… if you have any proof, any evidence at all that you were the one who mined the Nova coins, we are willing to sit down and listen.”Ryan nodded even though he knew Mr. Harrison couldn’t see him. “I hear you, Mr. Harrison. And I will prove it. I will prove that I mined those coins. I will not let lies bury the truth.” There was silence for a moment

Julian’s car screeched into the McCarthy’s driveway faster than he normally drove. He almost forgot to lock the door behind him in his rush, fumbling with the keys like an overeager child. His chest was still pounding with excitement, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as if it might vanish or the call might somehow be undone if he let it go.He stormed into the McCarthy mansion, pushing the door open with a loud creak.“Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy” Julian shouted breathlessly as he entered the living room.Mr. McCarthy looked up from his glass while Mrs. McCarthy sat elegantly on the velvet sofa, a magazine half-forgotten in her lap.“Julian?” Mrs. McCarthy blinked at him. “What on earth is the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”Julian laughed, a high, breathless laugh, and shook his head furiously. “Not a ghost. Not a ghost at all. Something better—something much, much better.”Mr. McCarthy leaned forward, setting his glass on the table. His tone was clipped. “Well? Stop stam