Rex motioned him inside.

  Julian took a slow breath, then stepped in. He walked to the table without a word.

  "Julian Frost?" George asked.

  "Yes." Julian nodded.

  "Have a seat."

  Rex stepped back a bit, watching Julian sit.

  "Rex here filled me in—"

  "Filled you in?" Julian blurted, then caught himself.

  "You're from Corsalis. Looking for the administrator. Planning to ship products from overseas," George observed Julian. "Ironwood Furniture, right?"

  "Yes," Julian replied quickly.

  "You deal mostly in wood?"

  "Mostly wood. Cotton too. Few other materials."

  "And your current volume?"

  "Right now, one to two containers per cycle. We're still scaling, but the structure's in place."

  "Mm." George slid over a file. "Take a look."

  Julian opened it and read it carefully.

  "Have you finalized your overseas contact?"

  "Not yet. My partner's handling that. I'm waiting on confirmation."

  George glanced at Rex, then back at Julian.

  "There won't be any issues on this end," he said calmly. "No extra charges. No delays. Your cargo moves clean."

  "That's reassuring."

  George paused, then said, "We'll also need some space in your containers."

  Julian looked up. "I'm not sure I follow you."

  "A small portion," he said. "Nothing that interferes with your own shipments."

  "It won't be at your expense," George added. "We'll account for it on our side. You'll see it in your margins."

  Julian's fingers stilled on the table. "…I see."

  Silence hung for a moment.

  "You've been around the docks," George said, interlacing his fingers. "You've probably seen how things work here."

  Julian remained silent.

  "For a company at your stage," George continued, "it helps to have things move without friction."

  Julian nodded slowly. "I'll need to discuss this with my partners first."

  "Of course, take..."

  George's phone buzzed. He answered it. "What is it?"

  "Cloud caught two guys snooping around the warehouse."

  "And?"

  "They were both armed. Cloud thinks he recognized one. Said 'the guy's an outsider. Looking for somethin' in the LOC market.'"

  George paused, then replied, "Alright. I'm coming."

  "Something wrong?" Rex asked, curious.

  "It's Cloud."

  …

  The bed creaked as he sat down, elbows on his knees, fingers interlocked.

  Sara. Simon. Tied. Taken. Auction.

  His eyes slid close.

  "That's messed up."

  Rex. George. Deal. Cloud. Then, the Auction.

  "Actually, it's not that bad."

  Auction. Crowd. Noise. Movement. Chaos.

  "I can handle this. Just need a little prep."

  No phone.

  "Right."

  No contact. No backup. No Paul. No Alex.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Just him.

  "Guess it's my turn in the spotlight."

  His boot tapped the floor once.

  "They think I'm one of them."

  Rex vouched. George bought it. Cloud didn't, but whatever.

  Point is, he wasn't tied up. Locked down. They're watching, but…

  "I can work with that."

  Sara's face flashed in his mind. Then Simon. They were calm.

  Why?

  Julian opened his eyes. "...Great."

  …

  Class was empty.

  Paul stood up from seat, his eyes drifting to her seat. She wasn't there. But something else was lying on the bench.

  A diary. Her diary.

  He had seen her many times writing something. Lost inside those pages. Julian had mentioned him one day, but he couldn't recall clearly.

  Still one thing was clear. Whatever she writes there, will tell him about her more than anything else.

  "What is she hiding?"

  His hand reached for the diary. But he stopped inches before touching. He turned his head to the left.

  The tip of the pen was an inch away from piercing his neck.

  For a moment he just looked her in the eyes. Her gaze was sharp. Hands trembling but still resisting.

  She snatched the diary and hid it behind. Her gaze flickered in the classroom.

  "Follow me."

  Paul did. They walked down the hallways and reached the outside corridors. She didn't slow down, or fasten her pace. Paul didn't ask any questions either.

  She stopped beside the metal bench. The place they talked with each other the most. She sat down, the diary in her hands. Paul also sat down.

  "This..." She placed the diary between them. "You are curious about this, aren't you?"

  He nodded slightly.

  She leaned back and breathed out softly. "You are huh… But I can't let you read it. Not until I'm gone."

  "Gone? I don't understand."

  "Means, until I'm ten feet under the rock." She grinned slightly at him. "You get it now?"

  "Why? Is it that important? Whatever you wrote inside."

  "It is actually." She tilted her head.

  He glanced at her.

  "Oh really. Don't give me that look." She scoffed slightly, "you have to understand that, something is better left as a secret."

  "Don't you know about women's privacy?" She added.

  "Yeah," he replied faintly. His gaze looked at the playground.

  "You should probably get this more than anyone. You don't answer any questions I ask. I'm doing the same. So no hard feelings here."

  "I have reasons."

  She leaned forward. "So do I. Much better than yours."

  "Tell me then?"

  "Wh-a-t?"

  "Your reason."

  "Um—uh. Well.... Just think of it as our relationship. Yeah..." She nodded to herself. "You will not be you, after reading it. Things will change about how you think of me."

  "And I don't want that." She whispered.

  "I won't read then."

  She nodded. "But I can assure you one thing though. One day I'll tell you everything. And you will think I'm lying."

  "Yeah," Paul's reply was faint. His mind was already deciding what to do next.

  Diary is important, yes. But it didn't matter if she didn't admit on her own. There's no point in discovering for ourselves.

  I'll do what we've always been doing.

  "I'm sure that day will come soon."

  …

  "I can't avoid him more." Varaha mumbled softly.

  She stepped out from behind the curtain. Her gaze instinctively moved at the balcony.

  He was there.

  Standing still like a puppet. Staring at the city lights like a play he had watched multiple times, but still finds it fascinating.

  "So..." The words quickly faded before they could form. This was so awkward after all that.

  "You want to ask something?" Paul asked, his voice flat.

  Varaha glanced at him. "I do."

  "About me?"

  "About Alex."

  "I already told you. He is overseas. There's no way to contact him."

  "I'm asking what he's like? With you. With the others."

  "Normal."

  "That's it? What's your definition of normal even is?"

  "Means everyone is doing what they are supposed to do. Because Alex isn't here, everyone is scattered."

  "So he was like your group's leader?" Varaha felt proud saying that.

  "No."

  She frowned. "Then who is it?"

  Paul took a moment to reply. "We don't have any leader. Everyone receives tasks from the higher ups and we follow it."

  "You keep saying, everyone. How many people are out there exactly?"

  "Close to a hundred."

  "Hundred?" Varaha stopped himself from overreacting. Still that's a lot.

  "But we're split into groups." Paul added.

  She nodded slightly, "who are the other people? Excluding You, Sara and Alex."

  "Simon and Julian."

  "Five of them total." Varsha mumbled faintly. "But you haven't told me anything about Alex. What's your relationship with him like?"

  "Close friends."

  That came quickly? She wondered to herself. "Then what do you know about him?"

  "Much more than you do." Paul turned to her.

  Varaha's eyes narrowed at him. She felt like being mocked. I'm his own sister. What if he knows much more than I do. That doesn't change the facts.

  "How long have you been working with him, anyway?"

  "Two years."

  "Only that much?" He and I have been together since we were born. Varaha didn't want to say that, but her mind didn't listen.

  "Time doesn't have anything to do with that."

  "Who said it does?" Varsha replied casually. "Now tell me what you know about him, more than me? In those two years."

  "I know the reason why he went overseas."

  "And?"

  "He asked me to come with him. But I didn't. Then instead he asked me for something else."

  Tsk. Varaha knows what Alex asked for instead. "Tell me something new."

  "He calls himself an open book. But he hides some pages until someone discovers it."

  "He forces himself to believe that he is right, even when knowing he is wrong."

  "He only tells the truth when the time and person are right. He commits the acts knowing it would cost him much more. He priorities—"

  "Enough. That's enough" Varaha said faintly. "You talk like you've known him for centuries."

  "It's because I paid attention."

  Huh... "What did you just say? Paid attention?" Her tone carried irritations. "We are blood siblings. I always paid him attention. I know he hides a few things deliberately."

  She breathed out slightly. "I know he's in trouble out there."

  "He isn't."

  Varsha watched his face carefully. "You don't know. You're standing here… while he's the one out there."

  She is right.

  …

  Who is this? Hey... Baldy! Liam! What's happening there? Answer me, you son of a...

  Those words kept echoing in Simon's head. He remembered exactly when they had first been spoken.

  "Stop your arguments. I don't have time for this."

  They carried the same edge even now, the strained sharpness of someone forcing his voice just to cut through the noise.

  "And someone tie them up. I'll check on them this evening."

  The stolen package. Catching Liam. Then the phone call…

  Simon couldn't forget that call. The voice was forgettable. Paul wasn't.

  "You killed them, didn't you?"

  Simon felt the same sensation as back then. For a moment, he felt like Paul.

  George, was it?

  The man who had taken everything from him.

  The man who had twisted the course of his life.

  And now he was finally within reach.

  Yet Simon sat there, hands bound behind his back, eyes swallowed by darkness—left alone with the thought of him.