The engine rumbled closer.
Franz crushed the cigarette underfoot.
The black car hadn’t stopped yet, but he could see it was slowing—about to pull up near the gate. Timing was gone. Subtlety? Dead.
He bolted straight toward the group.
Celeste was crumbling now, her voice cracking with every breath. Zane reached out again, too late, too slow.
He stepped in, grabbed Celeste around the back, and lifted her clean off the ground—like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"What the—!?" Iris snapped.
"Hey—! What the hell!?" Emphera shouted, already pulling back a fist.
"Follow me," Franz snapped. "Now."
They didn’t move at first—just stunned.
Celeste kicked at him, pushing against his chest. "Put me down! What are you—let go of me!"
He sprinted with her in his arms, veering off toward the old courtyard path that looped behind the science building—secluded, quiet.
He stopped behind the hedges near the stone steps and finally put her down.
She shoved his chest hard.
"Are you insane!?" she screamed. "What the hell is wrong with—!"
Franz grabbed her face in both hands. Firm. Not cruel—but unflinching.
His eyes locked onto hers, blue on blue.
For a second, it almost looked like tension. Something about the way he held her. Like he wasn’t just a stranger.
Then he leaned in just slightly.
Her mouth opened in shock—but he didn’t let her speak.
"Don’t talk, Just listen."
Her eyes shimmered. He could feel her pulse racing through her skin.
"She’s alive." His voice dropped. Serious. Final.
"Victoria. Your mother. She’s alive."
Celeste blinked. Her knees nearly gave out.
Right then, the others caught up.
Lena, Emphera, Zane, and Iris skidded to a stop—panting, confused, furious.
"What the hell is going on!?" Zane barked.
"You better have a damn explanation—" Emphera started.
Before anyone could say anything else, Franz stepped forward, hands up.
"No time for pleasantries."
He reached into his hoodie and tossed a small silver key to Iris.
She caught it reflexively.
"Address is on the keychain," Franz said. "My apartment. Top floor. Go there—now."
"What—" Iris’s voice sharpened.
Franz turned back to Celeste. She hadn’t moved. Tears already falling.
He pointed gently. "You’ll find your mom there. She’ll explain everything."
[Arcadia: I’m not crying. You’re crying.]
Franz turned to Iris again, more serious now.
"You’re the only one with a functioning brain. Keep them safe. Get out of here."
Iris’s eyes flicked to Zane—who looked like he still hadn’t processed any of this.
Then she nodded once. No arguments.
Franz didn’t look back.
He turned toward the far alleyway, hoodie up, already walking toward the black car pulling in at the far side of the building.
The engines shut off. Three black cars lined up near the back gate, their hoods gleaming under the midmorning sun like the barrel of a freshly cleaned gun.
Franz lit his cigarette.
No flourish. Just habit.
One by one, doors opened. Men in black suits stepped out. Three per car. Broad-shouldered, clean-cut, and trained—like a silent wall of intent.
Franz walked toward them.
[Arcadia: We’re in front of a college, Franz. Maybe hold off on murder?]
He didn’t answer. Just pulled his hoodie tighter, let the cigarette hang from his lips, and stopped a few feet in front of the lead man.
Eyes locked. Faces unreadable. Tension thick.
Posture slackened. Fingers twitched. Voice cracked.
"Th-thank God you’re here," he stammered. "It’s Celeste Ardent. Someone grabbed her. Took her off campus—I saw it happen."
The lead agent’s eyes narrowed. "You saw who did it?"
Franz nodded, breath hitching. "Blonde guy. Beard. He said something about... finishing what they started with her mom."
Subtle movements. A shift in weight. A glance passed between the agents.
Franz pushed one more card.
"I—I also know about Victoria. How she died. I overheard something. Near the lake."
The shift turned into motion.
Franz slid into the backseat. Doors shut. Tires turned.
No questions. No name. Just silence as the car turned toward the Ardent mansion.
He glanced out the window, the college fading behind tinted glass.
The apartment was quiet in the way only strangers’ places could be.
Victoria sat curled on the couch, wrapped in one of Franz’s hoodies—too big, too warm, too real. The smell of smoke, detergent, and something faintly metallic clung to it.
A half-melted tub of ice cream sat in her lap. She wasn’t really eating it. Just holding it. Scooping out a bite every few minutes like it was enough to ground her.
Why is he helping me?
Is he really Celeste’s boyfriend?
She let out a sharp breath. "No way."
But still... The guy did carry her out of a lake. Cooked her an omelet.
He wasn’t just dangerous. He was—
She cut the thought off with a shake of her head. "What am I even thinking?"
She stuffed another spoonful in her mouth.
Celeste stood outside the door.
Hand raised. Knuckles inches from the wood.
But she couldn’t do it.
Her heart thudded in her chest, wild and desperate.
What if it’s not her?
What if this is just another lie?
What if I break again?
There was no more room for fear. No more room for pain. Only answers.
The world didn’t stop. There was no dramatic music.
Hoodie three sizes too big. Mouth frozen mid-bite of ice cream. Eyes wide.
The ice cream hit the table.
Celeste crossed the room and pulled her mother into a crushing hug.
Victoria dropped the spoon. Didn’t even think. Just grabbed her back.
Lena turned away, shoulders shaking.
Iris stared, stunned.
Emphera muttered something sharp under her breath and stormed to the window.
Zane stood by the door. Motionless. Expression blank.
But Celeste didn’t care.
Because for the first time in days— she could breathe again.
The car slowed as the tall wrought-iron gates of the Ardent mansion opened like jaws.
Franz kept the nervous mask on.
The car rolled up the long gravel drive, past white marble fountains and trimmed hedges too clean to be real.
The engine shut off. A man opened the door.
Franz stepped out, blinking in the light.
"Can I—can I borrow your phone?" he asked. "Need to let my parents know I’m okay."
Franz tilted his head. Bit his lip. The innocent routine.
The agent handed him the phone.
Franz turned away, thumbed in the number.
"Old man," he said when Agustin answered. "Serious question."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"What happens if I kill everyone backing Elliot?"