Three days had passed since the incident at the Novax headquarters, yet the tension it had stirred refused to settle. It hung in the hallways like a static charge, prickling the skin of every employee who dared to look up from their terminal.By early afternoon, Kaelen had finally completed the last of the grueling official procedures at the police station. Statements had been reviewed again, every word scrutinized for discrepancies that weren't there; signatures were appended to thick stacks of legal bond, and the formalities finally concluded with the rigid, frigid politeness that followed a case too public for the department to mishandle. It should have brought a sense of closure, a momentary reprieve. Instead, it only sharpened the leaden exhaustion weighing on his bones, making the simple act of standing feel like an uphill battle.His car came to a grinding stop in the underground parking lot of Novax, the concrete echoing with the low hum of the engine. The moment the ignition

The heavy, pressurized door of the isolation wing hissed shut behind Kaelen, sealing out the sterile hum of the hospital corridors. Inside the private suite, the air was warmer, scented faintly of citrus and the copper tang of medical equipment. Mirella was propped up against a mountain of white pillows, her small frame looking almost skeletal against the vastness of the bed. A Scrabble board was balanced precariously on her lap, the wooden tiles scattered in a half-finished game she had been playing against herself.The moment her eyes landed on her father, the weary dullness in her expression vanished, replaced by a spark of genuine electricity."Daddy!" she chirped, her voice thin but vibrating with excitement.Kaelen felt a sharp tug in his chest. Because of his grueling schedule and the complex nature of her treatment, he usually only managed to visit in the dead of night or during the early morning hours when her body was deep in a drug-induced slumber. Seeing her awake, al

Deep in the suburbs, far from the polished towers and glass-fronted law firms of the city center, Riley stepped out of her car and looked up at the building in front of her.It was the kind of place people barely noticed. A dull, rectangular structure with aging paint and narrow windows, housing multiple small businesses under one roof A shared office space. Cheap rent. Minimal questions. Perfect for professionals who preferred to stay out of the spotlight.This was where her lawyer operated from.Riley adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder and walked inside without hesitation. The lobby smelled faintly of stale coffee and printer ink. A directory board listed several businesses—consulting firms, freelance agencies, “legal services”—all cramped together. She didn’t bother reading it. She already knew where she was going.She pushed open the door to Suite 3B.The man inside didn’t even give her time to sit down.“What the hell were you thinking?” the lawyer snapped the mom

“Then you should also be aware,” he snapped, recovering himself, “that terminating my services like this is a breach. I can sue you. I will sue you.”Riley crossed her arms. “Go ahead.”His brows furrowed. “You think I won’t? You think you have leverage here?”He leaned forward, jabbing a finger toward her. “Without me, you don’t even have a case. You’re emotional. Reckless. And now you want to throw money at the problem and make it disappear?”She smiled faintly.“You really believe,” she said, “that I came here without insurance?”He scoffed. “You have nothing on me.”Riley stepped closer to the desk and leaned down just enough for her voice to drop.“Harbor Point Storage,” she said calmly. “Unit C-17. April 6th, 2020.”The lawyer stiffened.His posture, previously aggressive and rigid, seemed to deflate as the specific details hit home like physical blows.“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quickly.She didn’t react.“Elliot Graves,” she continued. “Your former clien

One by one, the last remaining staff members had left, their footsteps fading down the corridors when it was five in the evening.The bright office lights were dimmed.Only security lights remained, casting soft pools of pale glow along the polished floors.Kaelen stepped out of the elevator slowly, his shoulders stiff with the kind of deep, bone-aching fatigue that sleep couldn't easily fix.He had just finished putting Mirella to sleep upstairs in her new ward.It had taken longer than normal tonight.She had clung to his hand with a desperate, tiny strength, looking at him like she was afraid he would vanish into the shadows the moment her eyes closed.He had stayed until her breathing evened out into a rhythmic hum, until her lashes finally rested against her pale cheeks, and until the machines beside her bed hummed in their steady, clinical rhythm.Now he was back at Novax.He should have gone home.He should have rested.But rest wasn’t an option he could afford.Not when the se