THE FREQUENCY OF FEAR
The ringing was a rhythmic intrusion in the silence of the school lodge.
Clara and Kamsi were still frozen on the sofa, their eyes fixed on the empty space where the blue dot had vanished from the tablet.
When Clara's phone shrieked on the mahogany coffee table, the sound felt like a physical strike.
She didn't recognize the number. It was an international string of digits, long and cold, appearing on the screen like a coded warning.
Clara swiped the screen with trembling fingers and pressed it to her ear. She didn't say anything; she couldn't. Her throat was a knot of raw anxiety.
"Clara," a voice breathed.
The air left her lungs in a sharp rush. She sat bolt upright, her spine snapping straight.
"Massimo," she gasped.
Like she needed confirmation that he was real.
Kamsi scrambled closer, pressing her ear to the back of the phone, her hands gripping Clara's arm so hard her knuckles were white.
"Where are you?" Kamsi demanded, her voice a frantic whisper.
"London," he replied.
"LONDON?" they shouted in unison.
Their voices overlapped, sharp and loud enough that even Massimo instinctively pulled the phone slightly away from his ear.
Both girls froze immediately after shouting.
Their eyes flicked toward the lodge entrance. They watched the silhouettes of the four Sterling guards stationed outside, frozen in terror that the men had heard the breach of protocol.
The guards remained like stone pillars in the moonlight, indifferent to the world inside, but the sisters didn't stop checking.
"Lower your voices," Massimo hissed through the line. "I'm on a ghost line, but this place feels like it's made of microphones."
One of the guards outside shifted slightly under the floodlight, causing Clara's breath to catch for half a second before she forced herself to focus back on the call.
"Are you serious?" Clara asked, now whispering.
"London? Massimo, what—what do you mean London?. Why didn't you tell us?" her voice dropping to a frantic hum.
"You just... you vanished into the sky, Massimo."
"I didn't know until I reached the airport, Clara. I was driven straight to the tarmac. My old phone was gone immediately I arrived London. Dad doesn't want me reachable by anyone—especially not on the ground back home."
A faint mechanical tone echoed in Massimo's background, like a system scan or security confirmation—before fading again into silence.
Clara rubbed her forehead, the weight of the thousands of miles between them settling in.
"Massimo, it's a mess here. Gemini called. He... he's not fine. He's losing his mind, Massimo. He knows something is wrong, and I had to lie to him. I hated it."
The line went silent for a few heavy heartbeats. Across the ocean, in a room filled with the scent of leather and cold marble, Massimo closed his eyes.
For a moment, he tightened his grip on the phone like it was the only stable thing in the room.
"How is he?" Massimo asked softly.
"He's spiraling," Clara said.
"He's in his room alone I guess, waiting for a call that isn't coming. Massimo, can you call him? Just once? Just to tell him you're okay?"
"No," Massimo snapped, the response immediate and pained.
"If I call him and Dad finds out, he'll react. I don't want to involve Gemini more than I already have. In this family, 'involvement' is a death sentence."
Clara went quiet.
That answer wasn't just caution. It was protection.
After a moment, Massimo spoke again. "Call him, Clara. I know he hasn't slept. Tell him I'm fine. Tell him we'll see each other on Sunday—that I'm coming back from the series shooting. Lie if you have to. Just keep him steady."
Kamsi blinked.
"Sunday?" she repeated. "You're coming back that soon?"
"If I can control it," Massimo said.
"Okay," Clara nodded. "I'll tell him."
"Massimo?" Kamsi asked, her voice smaller than usual. "Are you fine? Really?"
Massimo looked at the sprawling, unfamiliar London skyline and the cold perfection of the suite.
"No," he admitted honestly, his voice cracking.
Both girls went still.
"I'm not fine," he continued. "But I'm okay."
A pause.
"I miss you girls."
Clara and Kamsi shared a look—a rare, soft smile breaking through the tension.
"We miss you too," Kamsi murmured.
Suddenly, a sharp, rhythmic knock sounded on Massimo's end. They both heard him stiffen, his persona shifting instantly.
"Caleb, come in," Massimo said, his voice turning ice-cold.
The door creaked open.
"Sorry, sir," Caleb's voice floated through the line, professional and smooth. "I just wanted to show you your schedule so you can wake up early. We have an 08:00 start."
"Leave it on the table," Massimo commanded.
There was the soft thud of a tablet being placed on a surface, followed by the click of the door closing.
Immediately, Massimo breathed out. "Don't talk. I know exactly what you're going to say."
"Caleb?" Clara asked, her eyes dancing with sudden, nervous mischief.
A real laugh this time.
"Caleb?" she repeated. "Who's Caleb?"
Kamsi turned slightly.
"Wait—who's Caleb?" she asked too.
"I told you girls I don't want to answer any questions," Massimo groaned.
"He's the new secretary Dad arranged for me. He's... efficient. That's all."
Clara started chuckling, the sound low and melodic. Massimo could hear it clearly, and he knew what was coming.
"Oh, I am going to tease Gemini so badly," Clara whispered playfully.
"I'll tell him he's been replaced by a tall, handsome London secretary."
Kamsi let out a rare, genuine laugh. "A 'shadow' in a charcoal suit? Gemini will have a stroke."
"Clara—don't," Massimo warned.
But there was no real warning in his voice.
Just familiarity.
Clara grinned.
"I want to," Clara laughed, the sound finally breaking the ice that had gripped the lodge all night.
"I want to see him jealous," she said. "Possessive too. I want to see what he looks like when he panics."
Kamsi was now fully laughing.
"Gemini is going to combust," she added.
Massimo rubbed his temple slightly.
"Don't torture my boyfriend," he said.
That made Clara laugh harder.
"Your boyfriend is going to suffer," she said.
"I can't wait."
And for the first time since everything started—The lodge wasn't heavy anymore.
The coldness that had wrapped around the house earlier began to loosen.
Even the guards outside looked less like shadows and more like background noise.
Clara stood up from the sofa, pacing again—but this time it wasn't anxiety.
It was energy.
Kamsi leaned back, still smiling, tablet forgotten on her lap.
And across the ocean, in a glass penthouse in London, Massimo sat back on his bed. Listening to their laughter.
For a few seconds, none of them spoke.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because for the first time that night—
They didn't need to rush to survive the silence anymore.
Clara leaned back slightly, still smiling, but her tone softened for a moment.
"Just… don't shut us out again like that, Massimo. Even if things are crazy."
Massimo didn't answer immediately. He just exhaled slowly.
"I won't," he said quietly.
As they talked, the shadows in the lodge seemed to retreat.