"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,* Paul thought. 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 fifty 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."
…
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?"
Simon looked at it again. He took his time. "No. I don't recognize him." Then the words came out on his own.
"Paul's uncle."
"Paul's uncle," Philip confirmed. He folded his hands on the desk. "What I'm about to tell you stays with you. Understood?"
"Yes."
Philip didn't rush into it. "His name is Show Vaxlar. Younger brother of Samuel Vaxlar. The two of them built a distribution company together from the ground up. Equal partners, equal say, everything split down the middle. That held for years."
"Then in 2012 the company took a severe loss. They were close to going under. Samuel pulled them out of it — mid 2013, he closed a deal with an overseas company that stabilized everything. After that, the business started to grow. Samuel knew how to run it and he did."
"Show started paying attention to the details. The ownership structure had shifted. His fifty percent had been trimmed to ten. The remaining forty had been redistributed to names he didn't recognize. He went to Samuel. It didn't go well."
Philip leaned forward, his voice getting lower.
"Show went looking for help. He talked to some people outside the company. He told them he wanted back what was his. They suggested a few options to him."
"Kill his brother." Simon muttered.
"Show killed all of them," Philip said. "He hired two men and had the entire Vaxlar household murdered. Samuel was stabbed. His wife, Aisha, was shot. The eldest son, Mickey, was shot and stabbed."
"But Paul?"
"When cops arrived they found Paul. Soaked in blood, still breathing, no explanation in any record for how."
Simon was quiet for a moment. "And Show?"
"Gone. Records show he left the island and never returned. No trail worth following." Philip's voice softened, "Paul was hospitalized for two weeks. No relatives came. No next of kin made contact."
"So the High Table took him in."
"That's what we do."
Simon nodded slowly, his mind moving through it. He knew Philip was giving him the clean version. The version that accounted for the facts without accounting for everything between them. "Paul's file is restricted. Standard workers can't pull it. Why?"
"That has to do with the facility."
Simon didn't push it. He looked at the sketch one more time. "Does Alex know about any of this?"
"The family. Yes. He asked the moment Paul joined." Philip held his gaze.
"So he knew," Simon said quietly. He wasn't surprised Alex knew.
"Pull Paul's facility report," Philip said. "I'll authorize it. Read it yourself before you decide how to approach him. I think you'll find it useful."
"Yes, sir."
Philip unfolded his hands and looked back at the desk. The conversation was over. Now it was all up-to Simon.