Chapter 20: The Weight of a Name

  Cassian’s chest tightened.

  He exhaled, rubbing his fingers over his temple before reaching for the book. “You really are something else, kid.”

  Sky only grinned, before finally closing his eyes.

  Cassian watched him for a moment longer before shifting his focus to the records. He traced his fingers over the cover, feeling the weight of what he was about to step into.

  The Starfall name. The legacy. The secrets buried beneath it.

  And now, whether he wanted it or not—they were his to uncover.

  Just as he was about to open the book to study the records, his eyes landed on the files on the desk. Curiosity gnawed at him. Reaching out, he picked up one of the files and flipped it open. At first glance, it seemed like nothing more than a routine report—until he scanned the words more carefully. It was about a village incident, the kind of thing most people would forget by the next week. But there was something about it that caught his attention. This report seemed like it had been penned with a personal interest.

  He flipped to the next page, and his eyes widened in recognition. The handwriting matched the one in the diary. This was Cassian Starfall’s handwriting. As he read on, a strange sensation twisted in his gut. The words on the page felt cold, detached, and utterly disturbing.

  There was a line that made his heart skip a beat.

  "Had to kill them all, ugh, people, they were such a nuisance, sorry not sorry, I had to kill them all, anyway, they were just waste."

  Cassian’s mind reeled. His fingers trembled as he held the page, his eyes darting over the words, as if hoping they would change, hoping they would make sense.

  "What???" he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Wait… what???"

  The more he read, the more the chilling realization settled over him. The Cassian Starfall he had come to know—or rather, become—was not the same person who had written these words.

  Cassian slammed the file shut, his heart hammering in his chest.

  "This again, this Cassian Starfall was definitely not normal," he muttered under his breath. "His mental condition... is... fucked... was he a... psychopath?"

  He leaned back, the file burning in his hands as if the weight of what he had just uncovered was somehow shifting his entire reality. It was as if he had stepped into the very mind of a monster, and he wasn't sure if he could find his way.

  The question lingered in the air, heavy. Would the real Cassian Starfall have turned out this way? Or had something twisted inside him—something he couldn't control?

  Cassian didn’t know. But what he did know, with a painful clarity, was that whatever had happened to this family—the real Starfalls—had poisoned it all.

  And he had to keep playing the part.

  He had no option but this for now.

  With a final, lingering glance at the file, Cassian turned back to the records. There was no going back now.

  Cassian’s breath felt shallow as he reached for another file. He wasn’t sure why he kept looking—some part of him hoped that maybe he read wrong. That maybe the last report was just an outlier, an exaggeration, something twisted but not… monstrous.

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  But as he flipped open another document, his stomach churned.

  Another report. Another set of cold, detached words.

  "A failed experiment. Pathetic. I gave them a chance, but they were weak. Disposal was the only logical conclusion."

  Cassian inhaled. His grip on the pages tightened a little, as his eyes flicked to the next file, then another, and another—each one worse than the last. It was all there, written so casually, so effortlessly, as if human life meant nothing.

  In some of the files, the writing even carried an amused tone, as if the previous Cassian Starfall had enjoyed the suffering he inflicted.

  "The way they screamed was annoying. I should have ended it faster. Oh well."

  Cassian shut the file close, his chest tightening. He forced himself to breathe, running a hand through his hair as if that could clear the weight settling over his mind.

  "This isn’t just someone who killed to survive, and not like me, well mine is a little, anyway, but this is not like me, either" he thought, nausea curling in his stomach. "This Cassian Starfall—does he felt pleasure in it. He enjoyed it."

  The realization left a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew what it was to kill. He had done it himself, more times than he could count. But his hands had only ever taken lives out of ….. Out of “survival”….

  But this?

  This was something else entirely.

  Cassian pressed his palms against his face, inhaling deeply. Why? What twisted Cassian Starfall into this? Had he always been this way? Or had something in this house, in this family, in this world made him like this?

  And more importantly—

  "How am I supposed to keep pretending to be him? hmm.................. Maybe I can"

  A soft sound made him freeze.

  Cassian turned sharply, expecting to see Sky shifting in his sleep. But the boy was still curled up, his small breaths steady and even.

  Instead, the sound had come from beyond the door.

  A presence.

  Someone was there.

  Cassian’s mind sharpened in an instant, his instincts taking over. Carefully, he straightened, moving toward the door with slow, silent steps. He had spent years honing his ability to move undetected, and now it came as easily as breathing.

  He pressed himself against the wall beside the door, listening.

  Silence.

  Then—the faintest rustle of fabric. A slow exhale.

  Someone was standing just beyond the threshold.

  Listening.

  Watching.

  Cassian’s pulse remained steady, but his mind raced. Had they seen him reading the files? Heard his reaction? If so, what would they do?

  His fingers brushed against the knife hidden at his waist. He could act now—strike fast, disable them before they had a chance to react.

  But if it was Malcolm? Or Vera?

  No. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

  Instead, he exhaled softly, loud enough to be heard. Then, with calculated ease, he moved toward the bed, making just enough noise to sound natural.

  A long pause. Then—

  Soft footsteps retreating down the hall.

  Cassian waited. Counted the seconds.

  Only when the presence had fully faded did he allow himself to move again.

  He reached for one of the files, flipping it open to the first page, his eyes scanning the contents with renewed urgency.

  Because one thing was now certain.

  He wasn’t the only one keeping secrets in this house.

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