As Marianne came out of the building, just like that, the principal was at her elbow, face concerned. The oppressive soupy air was thick with the day's remains, and the late afternoon sun was edging its way across the parking lot."Mrs. Marriane," she started with a soft but serious tone, "I used to feel some disturbing symptoms of late in Ariane's behaviour; she always used to lag behind in studies, but it was pronounced after she lost her dad. She is inconvenienced; I feel it to some extent because she misses a father figure.She gave Marianne a peculiarly sharp look. Marianne stopped by her car, thinking over what the principal had said. "What do you propose to do?" she asked, her voice not quite so even at the effort to keep concern from revealing itself.The principal sighed, her arms busy folding. "I think she needs more of your time. She is really trying to manage, and with your presence, she might feel safer. Maybe consider spending more time with her in finding ways at home t
Enoch smiled uncomfortably and handed him the box. "I just thought you deserved something nice, you know, for all that you do.".He took some time in answering the question, and all that while, she looked at him as if trying to read something from his eyes. It just did not really add up, but she could not point the finger at it. She nodded and took the necklace, her fingertips brushing the cool metal. She didn't really trust him, but for now, she would play along with him."Thanks, Enoch," she replied, and he had at no time been other than courteous. She pocketed the necklace without attempting to try it on. "To work," she said.She brushed past and by to the building, filled suddenly with many questions. Why had Enoch given her the necklace?Enoch was breathless at Marianne's parting, but such words, he finally gave it to her. He had given her the necklace—not just anything but the one Victor insisted on. Nothing more did Enoch do than let a big sigh out in the case that the weight w
Stephen's heart raced, putting Yuna one step at a time toward the terminal. Every step seemed to reverberate in his brain, reminding him of the decision he had just made. A war waged in his mind-half of it screaming to turn back and join her, while the other half begged him to walk away-to finally let go of this living nightmare he was dragging her through.Yuna turned once to him-her big, innocent eyes were wide with trust. Stephen forced a smile and gave her a little wave. He fought the tightness in his chest-he was terrified, could not let her see this, not now, not when all was at stake.She hesitated in the entrance, as if expecting him to change his mind. For one tense moment, Stephen almost snapped. But he knew this was the only way to keep her safe. If Clarke catches up with him now, then Yuna will be in a worse danger than ever. This is the last gift he can give her: a chance at life free from the chaos that's consumed his own."Go on, Yuna," he muttered under his breath, alm
"Stephen," Charles yelled in a hollow voice into the empty space. "I know you're here. Come on out. Let's end this peacefully."Stephen remained hidden as his mind dragged him into a frenzy. He couldn't believe that he had actually trusted Charles, even for a moment. Now, his only option was to think fast, find a way out before Clarke's men cornered him."Search the place," Clarke barked, a cold tone to his words as if shot from a stutter gun. His team spread out, ready for action, weapons out and loud shoes beating against the concrete.The pulse in Stephen's throat quickened. He had to do something now. If they found him, it was all over. He cursed himself inwardly at the lack of forethought, at letting his guard down. He scanned the factory for any signs of something that would give him an escape. The factory was like a maze, filled with old machinery and stacks of crates since time immemorial, but there were few alternative doors. And certainly not the main door—it was always unde
Charles wheeled himself closer to Stephen, his eyes never leaving his. The dim lighting of the factory cast long shadows across his face, his smile more sinister."You know, Stephen," Charles started, his voice soft yet reeking with a chilling edge, "I really did want to help you. But you simply could not refrain from the urge to betray me. To run off to another country without a word? Really not how you treat a friend.Stephen chuckled and slightly shook his head. "That's the real reason, Charles? Because I was leaving? You and I know differently.Charles joined in the chuckle, a low menacing sound. "Well, you got me there. It wasn't just about you leaving. You've always been in my shadow, but lately… you started stealing my limelight. I've always been top dog, Stephen. I wasn't about to let you take that from me."Stephen's face darkened as the pieces fell into place. "Victor? He was just a by-product of this petty game you are running?"Charles eased himself back into his wheelchai
Victor burst into his apartment, irritation evident in his stride. He went directly to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. A view of a swollen nose, still bruised from Stephen's punch, accommodated his building anger even more. He slapped a fresh bandage over it, grimacing as he did so. The doctor had said his nose bone was shifted, and Victor was already fantasizing about the day when he would get revenge on Stephen and double over in pain for this.As he finished with the bandage, Charles rolled in; his wheelchair let out a slight squeak on the tiled floor. "What happened to you?" Charles asked casual yet with a hint of curiosity.Victor shot him a hard glance through the mirror. "None of your business."Charles's brow furrowed slightly. "I take it you didn't catch Stephen then?""No," Victor snapped, frustration evident in his tone. "He managed to get away."Charles leaned back in his chair, a false look of surprise crossing his face. "Stephen escaped? Surprising. I'd ha
Victor and Charles stared at each other a moment longer, the air heavy with menace. With his eyes narrowing, Charles wheeled closer, darting from Victor unto the cell phone held in his hand. He noticed Victor stood rigidly and the slight facial twitch.Charles reached out and calmly took the phone from Victor's hand, never breaking eye contact. He glanced down at the screen to see it was a message from Clarke, attached to which was a picture of a battered Stephen."See anything?" Charles asked, his voice low and casual, deceptively so.Victor hesitated, then slowly stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets to mask any anxiety. "I didn’t see anything important," he lied smoothly. "Just needed some air. I’ll be back later."Charles nodded, his suspicion never quite leaving his eyes. "Al歲ght," he said, watching Victor closely as he walked out of the room.The moment Victor was out of the room, Charles had his face on the phone again; thoughts ran riot in his head. Stupid of Clarke to
Back to the dining room, Enoch was getting more and more uneasy. "What is taking Marriane so long?" he thought and said to himself, looking across at Ariane, who was looking as uninterested as before.Suddenly Ariane spoke. "I heard my mom used to date your younger brother." Her voice showed no apparent interest, while her eyes did tell a different story altogether.Enoch stiffened in surprise. He reached hastily for his goblet of wine, draining a small amount into his mouth for time. This child knew too much already, and directness in her questions unsettled him."Well." Enoch fumbled for words, until Ariane cut him short."Are you trying to avoid saying anything about it?" her voice issued sharply.Enoch forced a smile, his gut starting to feel the edge of the knife inside. This kid was unstoppable. "I think I've had enough wine," he said, putting the glass down. "Where's the toilet?"Ariane pointed down the hall, her face unreadable. Enoch nodded, getting up a little too quickly, u
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not sa
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not say an
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not say an
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late.The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late.The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face."Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen.Stephen did not say anythi
Stephen stood by the door, watching as Victor’s car grew smaller in the distance. The rumble of the engine slowly faded, leaving nothing but the usual quiet that hung around the small neighborhood. He let out a breath, resting his hand on the doorframe. The last two months had been tough—tougher than he ever imagined.Without the system—the network of contacts and favors that once made his life easy—Stephen had to figure out a way to survive on his own. And it wasn’t glamorous. Every day was a grind, a constant scramble for enough money to cover the basics. Work wasn’t easy to come by, not when you’d burned as many bridges as he had. But he’d managed to find some odd jobs here and there—just enough to scrape by, though never enough to truly get ahead.He closed the door softly, the sound echoing through the small room. Glancing around the cramped space, he couldn’t help but think of the penthouse he once called home. The stark difference between his old life and this one weighed on hi
Stephen stood in the door and watched as Victor's car dwindled to a dot on the horizon. The rumble of the motor died out, leaving only the silent night air hovering over the little neighborhood. He exhaled a breath, his hand falling to rest on the doorframe. The last two months had been rough-tougher than he ever imagined.No system to fall back on now-the network of contacts and favors that oiled his life-Stephen was forced to scrounge some means of survival for himself. Not quite glamorous, the daily fight, the eternal hustle just for the real basics. Jobs were not easy to find, not when one had burned bridges as he had. But he'd been able to find odd jobs here and there, enough just to scrape by, never enough to get any further ahead.He closed the door behind him with a quiet click. The softness echoed inside the tiny room. Glancing around at the cramped quarters, his mind strayed to the penthouse he once called home. The stark dissimilarities between where his life used to be and
Two months later, Victor stared at the address on his phone, then at the small, run-down building in front of him. It didn’t look like a place Stephen would be living. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the grass in front was overgrown. This was far from the sleek, modern apartment Stephen used to own.Victor killed the engine, stepped out of his car, and walked toward the house. It was a self-contained unit—cheap, cramped, and barely enough for one person. He checked the address again. Room number 9. It matched. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.When he reached room 9, he knocked hard. The wood felt thin under his knuckles, like the door could break if he wasn’t careful. He knocked again, louder this time.After a moment, the door creaked open. Victor’s eyebrows shot up. Standing in front of him was Stephen, but he was almost unrecognizable. His hair was longer, his face covered with a scruffy beard, and he’d gained weight—his old sharp features now s
Standing beside Ariane's bed, his mind was spinning as he stared down at the screen of the system on his phone. His fingers trembling, he hit the icon for healing skills. He muttered under his breath, "Why can't this work on her? Why can't I save her?The system kept mum-no explanation, no solution. The shallow breathing of his daughter echoed in the room; every weak breath made him helpless. Stephen swallowed hard as his throat went dry. He could fix deals, he could manipulate numbers, but here in this hospital room, he was powerless.The door creaked open, and Stephen turned to see Enoch step in. Gone was Enoch's usual smug expression, replaced with a concerned frown. "What are you doing here?" Stephen's voice was low, edged with suspicion.Enoch shrugged, glancing over at Ariane. "Heard she was sick, so I decided to come by. How's she doing?"Stephen stared at him for a long moment, unsure of how to reply. His mind flashed back to his earlier doubts. Ariane wasn't his daughter, at
Stephen sat cross-legged on a soft mat, his eyes closed to focus on the calm voice of the guru. The air around him was scented with burning incense; a low hum of chanting echoed softly from the walls. He had called in the guru in a last-ditch effort to clear his mind, escape the relentless pull of the system. It had started to devour him, bit by bit, till it was all he could think of, all he could perceive.He was losing his grip, and he knew it.The guru's voice came, calm: "Breathe in. breathe out. let your thoughts flow like water. Do not cling to them."Stephen sucked in an enormous breath, then let it slowly out again, as if to expel everything at the same time: the market crash, the system, the deals that went right past him. The tension between him and Enoch was endless. He'd gotten pulled into something so much bigger than he was that he couldn't possibly control it himself, and however hard Stephen fought his way free of it, he felt ensnared.Then, though, as his breathing st