In the Stark Architects company, Maria opened her office door, a smile filling her face—until it vanished.
Someone was already seated in her chair. A file was open in front of her. Reading.
Christine dropped the file on the desk. The cover read: Star Set.
"Star Set..." Christine's grin lingered too long on her face. "If you want my opinion, she's really good for Adrian."
Maria's throat tightened. "I thought you were gone, Mom?"
"Nah." Christine waved a dismissive hand. "St. Stark agreed to meet by five p.m." She glanced at her gold watch. "I still have a few hours left."
Maria forced herself to stay calm. Respectful. It took everything she had. "I need to keep up with AUDO, Mom, so—" She let the sentence hang, hoping Christine would take the hint.
Christine didn't waver. She stayed planted in Maria's chair like a tree with deep, ancient roots. Maria had no choice but to sit on a visitor chair. Like a guest in her own office.
"Did you tell Adrian the truth yet?" Christine's eyes narrowed into slits.
Ah. The truth.
Christine had reminded her every single day since David disappeared. Tell Adrian. Tell him the truth. He deserves to know.
Maria pressed her lips together. Silence was her only answer.
"I see how he looks at you." Christine's voice was soft—dangerously soft. "A proud son. Adores his mother very much." She paused, letting the words settle. "I just wonder how he'll feel when he finds out."
Maria rested her arms on the desk. Her expression went stoic—a mask she'd perfected over eight years.
"What are you really doing here, Mom?" Her voice was quiet. "Do you think after eight years, your arrival here will draw David out?" She tilted her head. "He's probably somewhere abroad philandering with some woman."
Christine looked at her. Really looked like she was seeing Maria for the first time.
"Is that what you told Adrian?" Christine's voice boomed—sudden and sharp, like a thunderclap.
Maria frowned in confusion.
"See, a mother would always feel her child alive in this world." Christine stood up, clutching her pearl handbag. "Would always feel his pain. His cries." Her eyes glistened—but with rage, not tears. "And I feel that. Always. And I'm done feeling." She leveled her gaze at Maria. "I am here to find where you buried my son."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Maria swallowed hard. Christine always accused her of doing something to David.
Christine walked toward the door. "Prepare Bonita. She's to be crowned tonight."
"Wait—Mom," Maria shot up from the visitor chair. Christine halted by the door. "What do you mean crowned? It's not her birthday yet."
Something flickered across Maria's eyes. Not fear. Not darkness. Something deeper. Something Christine couldn't name.
"Oh, Maria?" Christine's confused smirk returned. "Don't tell me you lingered on that narrative to wait exactly for her twentieth birthday." She laughed—a short, dry sound. "She's the first girl child born into the Stark family in a century. Her coronation starts tonight." She paused. "Besides, her birthday is in a week. What's with you?"
Maria shook her head slowly, hesitantly. "St. Stark didn't tell me anything."
"Hmm," Christine hummed, unconvinced. "I'm telling you now."
She left.
In the hallway, Christine looked at a USB drive in her gloved hand. She grinned—slow, wide, and hungry.
But Maria was already panicking.
Her fingers shook as she dialed. Once. Twice. The phone rang—once, twice, three times—then went to voicemail.
"Where are you, Bonita? Pick up!"
She placed another call. Same thing. Rings. Voicemail. Rings. Voicemail. Like a nightmare on repeat.
Her daughter might be the first girl child born into the Stark family in a century, but Maria was not going to let her be crowned. She wasn't superstitious. She didn't believe that nonsense—that in a long line of powerful Stark descendants, a girl was born only once in a hundred years. That was bullshit. And she wouldn't let—
"What's the matter, Maria? Is Bonita not picking up?"
That voice. Familiar. Unexpected. Right behind her.
Maria jumped. A small scream escaped her lips as she whirled around.
Christine stood there, calm as a still lake.
"Please don't tell me you want to warn her to stay away tonight," Christine said casually, like she was discussing the weather.
"I longed to borrow this," Christine says, picking up the file titled Star Set
Maria's eyes dropped to the file. "No, Mom... I haven't read it yet. It's important."
She needed to know who Star was. Who had her son in such a chokehold that he couldn't see straight. Who made his eyes light up in a way they never did for Tiffany.
"Find it at home," Christine said, already turning toward the door. Then she stopped. "Oh. If Bonita is truly a Stark by blood, you will have nothing to worry about."
She grinned—slow and knowing—when she saw the reaction on Maria's face. The worry. The fear.
"Is she the true blood of the Stark?" Christine asked, her expression suddenly stoic.
"Y-yes," Maria stuttered. The word came out weak. Unconvincing.
"Good." Christine's smile returned, warm and terrible. "Then you have nothing to worry about."
She cooed the words like a lullaby and left.
The door clicked shut.
Maria sank into her chair, releasing a huge breath of something that wasn't quite relief. Her heart was still racing. Her hands were still shaking.
***
"You need to rewind those cameras and bugs. I still can't get a clear objective on AUDO." Kefas Sterling sat in his office at Sterling Industries; his chair whirled to face the wall. "Please, this is the last time you'll do this. Then we're rich."
"So it's true?" A voice spoke from behind him. "You're stealing my brother's designs?"
Kefas flinched.
He spun his chair around.
A lady stood there—a fierce aura rolling off her in waves. Black jeans. Hard boots. A black jacket zipped all the way up to her neck. No makeup. Her hair pulled into a tight bun at the center of her head.
"Bonita." Kefas's smile didn't reach his eyes. Not even close.
He'd just been caught red-handed.
"You called my father your best friend?" Bonita walked toward the visitor's chair and sprawled onto it—boots up on his desk, completely disrespectful. It's the kind of disrespect you can only get away with when you know something the other person doesn't.
"How did you get in?" Kefas asked, trying hard to keep his fists by his sides. Bonita was still the Stark heiress. He couldn't touch her.
"For a big industry, your security sucks." Bonita picked up some nuts from a bowl on the table and tossed one into her mouth.
"Why are you here?" Kefas's voice tightened. "Does your mother know you're here?"
"No." Bonita crunched the nut. "But if you think she needs to know, I'll play this first."
She pulled a recorder from her jacket. The recording of Kefas's earlier call played back—clear as day. His own voice. His own words. His own confession.
"I love to play my 'I told you Kefas is a snake' playlist," Bonita cooed, "but for you, I'm going to pass. If you don't talk."
Kefas sighed. A long, defeated sound.
If Bonita wanted, she could give that recording to Adrian. And that son of David would drive Sterling Industries to bankruptcy with a single text message. How could he be so stupid? And who let her into the building without informing him first?
He made a mental note to fire someone this afternoon.
"I'll bite," Kefas trailed off. "What do you want?"
"Good." Bonita threw another nut in her mouth and chewed. "I've been investigating a lot over the past few years. About my father's disappearance." Her tone turned sarcastic, but her eyes stayed deadly serious. "Do you remember my father? David Stark? Your college best friend?"
Kefas's expression shifted. Amusement flickered across his face.
"You think I had something to do with David's disappearance?"
Bonita leaned forward. "Can you believe it? I even have you at the center of my board as the main suspect." She gestured to the recorder. "And with this? You really have a motive. You want to be the best company in Crestfall. Kill my father. Steal my brother's designs." Her voice dropped, dangerously calm. "What else are you doing? Fucking my mother?"
Kefas stood up. "Okay. I think you're biting off more than you can chew, lady."
Bonita rose from the seat instinctively. They faced each other like two predators circling the same kill.
"You need to leave." Kefas's voice was serious now. He pressed a button on his desk. "Security."
"We should pick this up sometime." Bonita smiled and turned to leave.
As she walked past his desk, her eyes drifted to something small and beaming—a device she slipped underneath in a flash. Quick. Silent. Invisible.
Kefas didn't notice at all.
Bonita got in her car and turned on her iPad; she pressed something, and it started to download to 100% really quick.
"Thanks, Kefas, for the hospitality," Bonita says as she starts the engine of the reverse and zooms off.
***
Downtown, Star and Safe were eating and watching TV. Safe laughed silently—his shoulders shaking, his mouth open in a noiseless wheeze—as he pointed at the cartoon on the screen. Star nodded along, her mouth too full of food to respond properly.
Then Safe's face changed.
A hard migraine of agony struck him. He clutched his head as blurry flashes of memory clawed their way to the surface—fragments, shards, nothing solid enough to hold.
"It's okay." Star dropped her fork and rushed to the nearby cupboard. "Take this. It'll be better."
She handed him tablets. He swallowed them dry. He's been getting migraine as shards of memory crawl theier way to him lately.
"It's just cartoons." She sat beside him, rubbing his back. "I'm sure your life was never a cartoon."
The migraine didn't cease. Safe gripped his head harder, trying to hold himself together. He was grateful for this girl—this stranger who had pulled him from the edge of death and cared for him despite knowing nothing about who he was. Even he didn't know who he was.
He was trying not to burden her. Lucian already threatened his useless life enough.
"Feeling better?" Star asked, concern laced in her voice.
Even though Safe was mute and memoryless, Star felt connected to him in ways she couldn't decipher. Like they'd known each other in another life. Like the universe had put him in her path for a reason she hadn't figured out yet.
Her phone rang. She picked it up quickly.
"That's good news." Her voice wavered between excitement and worry. "Is that good news?"
She listened. Nodded. Her expression shifted.
"Okay. Thanks. I'll be careful." She ended the call.
Safe signed to her: "Are you leaving?"
"Yes." Star smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You'll be alright. I'll be right back."
She sprinted upstairs. Less than a minute later, she came back down with a small bag.
Safe recognized it. He frowned. Questioned her with his eyes.
"I know. I want to surprise you." Star helped him to his feet. "Come on. Let's go."
Safe hadn't fully recovered. His legs were shaky. He couldn't walk on his own. But Star helped him with exercises every day, building his strength inch by inch. She couldn't afford physical therapy. Lucian had refused to help a stranger—called it a waste of resources. Star understood where he was coming from, but she still thought he ought to help Safe anyway.
She drove off with Safe, heading east of Crestfall.