Cassidy had been in Geneva for a full day now. The hours blurred between etings with lawyers, her visit to Pierre’s family, and a silent tour of the charred remains of their warehouse. Her body ached, and her heart was heavy.
She was lying on her hotel bed, still in her black coat, staring at the ceiling when her phone lit up. Georgia.
Cassidy reached for it and answered with a tired voice, "Hey, G."
"Hey, Cass. How are you holding up?"
Cassidy sighed, her voice soft. "I’m okay. Just got back from eting Pierre’s family. It was... rough."
"I’m so sorry, Cass. Really," Georgia said gently. "You’re staying another day?"
"Yeah. Still need to et the team tomorrow and talk about relocating the warehouse. We lost a lot in that fire." She paused. "But I should be back the day after."
There was a pause on Georgia’s end. And then she said carefully, "There’s sothing I need to tell you."
Cassidy sat up slowly. Sothing in Georgia’s tone instantly made her alert. "What is it?"
"Don’t panic."
Cassidy’s spine stiffened. "Georgia."
Georgia exhaled. "Zeke saw Claire today. At the preschool."
Cassidy froze. "What?"
"And he... talked to her."
Cassidy stood up from the bed, completely awake now. "He talked to her? What do you an he talked to her?"
"I didn’t plan it, Cass," Georgia rushed to explain. "Clara was with , thank God. We saw him from the car and I told Clara to get Claire imdiately. But he had already approached her. They spoke."
Cassidy’s pulse thudded in her ears. "What did he say to her? Did Claire... did she say anything about ?"
"She didn’t ntion your na," Georgia said quickly. "But Cass... he knew her na. He asked if her na was Claire."
Cassidy slowly sank back onto the bed, her fingers trembling as they gripped the phone.
Georgia hesitated, then added, "He told Claire that he knows Xavier. That he’s friends with Xavier’s brother-in-law."
Cassidy’s brows drew together. "Xavier? Friends with Xavier’s brother-in-law?" She repeated the words slowly, trying to piece them together. "But... who is Xavier’s brother-in-law?"
There was a beat of silence on the other end before Georgia replied, "I don’t know."
Cassidy stared at the wall, her thoughts spinning.
"He only talked to her," Georgia continued carefully. "He doesn’t know who she really is, Cass. So please... don’t panic."
Cassidy didn’t respond right away. Her mind was already racing ahead.
She wanted to ask Xavier—to make sure. But Xavier didn’t know the truth. He didn’t know who Claire’s father was. If she asked him now, he’d put the pieces together.
And he would know.
So Cassidy stayed silent. She couldn’t risk it.
"I want to talk to Claire," she said at last, her voice calm but tight.
"Of course." Georgia called out softly, "Claire, sweetheart... Mommy’s on the phone."
Cassidy heard the small shuffle, then the sweet voice that never failed to warm her heart.
"Mommy?"
"Hi, sweetheart," Cassidy said, forcing a smile into her tone. "How was your day?"
"Good! I had so much fun! I played with my friends."
Cassidy let out a quiet breath, relieved. But then her voice shifted slightly, firr now. "Didn’t Mommy tell you not to talk to strangers, Claire? Aunty Georgia told you spoke to soone today."
Claire quickly defended herself. "But Mommy, he said he knows Uncle Xavi. And he knew my na."
Cassidy closed her eyes for a second, steadying her thoughts. "What did he say to you?"
Claire repeated everything, just as Georgia had explained. Cassidy listened carefully, her mind cataloging every word.
When Claire was done, Cassidy exhaled slowly, letting the tension ease from her shoulders.
"Okay," she said gently. "But next ti, sweetheart, don’t talk to anyone unless Mommy, Aunty Georgia, or Grandma Clara are with you. Okay?"
"Okay," Claire replied with a small voice. Then, softly, "I miss you, Mommy. When are you coming ho?"
Cassidy’s heart clenched. "I miss you too, baby. I’ll be ho in two more sleeps, alright? Just two more."
"Okay," Claire whispered.
Cassidy smiled faintly, even though her chest ached. "I love you."
"Love you too."
She ended the call, then sat in silence, staring out the hotel window as the lights of Geneva blurred behind a thin curtain.
He knows her na. He stood in front of her.
Her pulse pounded in her throat. The cracks in the wall she built were starting to show. Was it only a matter of ti?
***
Zeke sat behind the massive oak desk in his office, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows and the muted hum of the city beyond. His fingers tapped absently against the polished wood, the usual rhythm of his workday long gone. Papers were scattered in front of him, his laptop open but untouched.
Sothing wasn’t right. He didn’t know what, but it clawed at the back of his mind like a missing puzzle piece he couldn’t find.
His head throbbed again, sharp, sudden. He winced and leaned forward, pressing his fingers to his temple. This had been happening more frequently lately. The dication he’d been prescribed was gone, and frankly, it hadn’t been doing much toward the end anyway.
With the weekend starting tomorrow, Zeke finally decided: he’d go to the hospital for a consult. Just to get sothing stronger, anything to quiet the noise in his head.
The next morning, Zeke walked into the pristine white halls of one of the city’s top private hospitals. Familiar. Quiet. Controlled.
Dr. Julianne Johnson, his neurologist, didn’t waste ti with pleasantries.
"You’ve been pushing yourself again, haven’t you?" she scolded, flipping through his chart. "I told you—less stress, Zeke. Fewer late nights, more rest."
Zeke exhaled slowly. "It’s not work."
Julianne looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"
He didn’t answer.
She leaned back. "Do I need to refer you to a psychologist?"
"No," he said flatly. "I just need a stronger dose. The last one’s not working."
Julianne frowned. "Increasing the dosage isn’t a solution. You’re already pushing the limits. You need rest, not more dication. Go on a vacation. Take a break every weekend if you have to."
Zeke said nothing.
Julianne sighed, clearly knowing her advice would be ignored. Still, she scribbled on the prescription pad. "This is your last refill unless I see genuine improvent. No gas, Zeke."
He took the prescription with a nod and walked out.
As he stepped into the hallway outside Julianne’s office, Zeke spotted a tall, familiar figure heading his way.
Alexandro Calista.
"Sandro," Zeke said coolly.
"Zeke." Sandro nodded back, his gaze flicking down to the white pharmacy bag in Zeke’s hand. He arched a brow, but Zeke quickly tucked it behind his back.
"What are you doing here?" Sandro asked, half-smirking.
"I could ask you the sa," Zeke replied.
Neither answered. The smirks they shared held no humor.
Then Zeke spoke again, more seriously. "I heard Cassidy’s back in Arica."
Sandro’s smile faded. He gave a curt nod but said nothing more.
Zeke tilted his head. "Is she back for good, or...?"
"You’ll have to ask her yourself," Sandro replied calmly.
Zeke’s jaw tightened slightly. "Can I get her number, then?"
Sandro’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Why? What do you need to talk to her about?"
"That’s between and Cass," Zeke replied. "You don’t need to know."
Sandro chuckled under his breath. "That’s the thing. I don’t have it."
Zeke raised a brow. "You don’t?"
"She didn’t give it to ," Sandro said with a small shrug. "I’ve asked. She refused."
Sandro gave a small smile, but his eyes didn’t. "So things aren’t ant to be found that easily, Ezekiel."
***
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