The name appeared three times in the old employment records.
Housemaid. Montclair Estate.
Maria White got fired three days after Alera Montclair's death.
Alaric stared at the line for several seconds.
Three days, not three months. Three days.
A child died.
And a woman who had worked in the house for almost fifteen years was suddenly gone.
The timing bothered him, so he dug deeper.
Tax records, Address changes, Medical files.
Anything he could legally access most of it was useless.
Until he noticed something strange.
Maria White had not worked for anyone since leaving the Montclairs.
Not one employer, not one paycheck, not one reference.
Almost as if her life had simply stopped; that bothered him even more.
The apartment building sat on a quiet street in Queens.
Old, worn, forgettable.
The kind of place people stopped noticing Snow collected along the sidewalks as Alaric climbed the stairs. Apartment 4C.
He knocked once. Nothing.
Twice. Still nothing.
Then a sound, Movement behind the door.
Someone was there listening. Waiting but not opening.
Alaric frowned "Mrs White, I just want to ask a few questions."
Nothing.
The silence stretched long enough that most people would have left.
Alaric knocked again. Then he noticed it.
A small camera mounted above the opposite apartment door.
Modern New. Completely out of place in a building this old.
Interesting. His gaze moved.
Second camera near the stairwell.
Third at the end of the hallway.
Not security cameras. Personal cameras.
Someone inside this building was paranoid or afraid, "Mrs White."
The movement behind the door stopped. Then a voice answered.
Old, fragile, and nervous. "Go away."
Alaric remained where he was "I can't do that."
"Then come back with a warrant."
The response surprised him, not because of what she said but because of how quickly she said it.
Like she'd rehearsed it. Like she'd used it before.
Alaric looked at the door "You're expecting someone."
Silence. Wrong thing to say.
The silence became heavier, more cautious.
Eventually the woman spoke again, "What do you want?"
Alaric hesitated, then reached into his coat. Carefully.
He removed a photograph he'd carried for months.
A twelve year old girl smiling at something outside the frame.
"I want to talk about her."
Nothing. No answer.
Then a sharp intake of breath so quiet most people wouldn't have noticed.
But he did.
The deadbolt unlocked. Then another lock. The door opened barely two inches.
Just enough.
And through the gap Alaric saw an elderly woman standing with one hand gripping the frame.
Her eyes were cloudy and Unfocused. Blind.
Completely blind. For a second, neither spoke.
Then Maria whispered, "Alera?"
Not who are you. Not what do you want.
Just Alera.
The way people spoke a name they hadn't allowed themselves to say for years.
Alaric felt something shift in the air, investigation of the case, the theories.
All of it suddenly felt very far away because grief was standing right in front of him.
Maria swallowed.
Her hand tightened around the door.
"Do people still remember her?"
The question caught him off guard "What?"
The old woman laughed softly. A sad laugh, one without humour.
"I thought everyone already forgot her."
Silence. Then she added quietly:
"After they made all the proof disappear."
The hallway went completely still.
Alaric didn't move or say anything.
For one terrifying second, Maria seemed to realise what she'd just said.
The colour drained from her face.
Slowly Very slowly She began closing the door.
Alaric's pulse spiked; he held the door.
Because for the first time in twelve years, Someone had made a mistake.
Victor was working when Sebastian entered his office.
No greeting no explanation; he just sat down.
Victor didn't look up.
"I think your daughter hates me."
Victor kept signing papers "Good afternoon, Sebastian."
"Thank you." A pause.
"I still think she hates me."
Victor finally looked up "Why are you here?"
Sebastian leaned back "To discuss a developing situation."
Victor immediately regretted asking, "What situation?"
Sebastian looked genuinely concerned "Elara."
Victor stared "Elara is not a situation."
"That's where you're wrong."
Sebastian folded his hands "She has become a very complicated situation."
Victor set down his pen not because he cared.
Because he wanted to hear how ridiculous this was about to become.
Sebastian nodded once as if presenting evidence to a board of directors.
"I haven't seen my fiancée in six days."
Victor blinked "You saw her last week."
"Six days."
"That's last week."
"Exactly."
Victor already had a headache.
Sebastian continued.
"Yesterday she went shopping."
Silence.
"The day before that she went shopping."
More silence.
"The day before that she had lunch."
Victor wasn't sure where this was going.
Sebastian wasn't sure either.
That had never stopped him before "Then coffee."
"Then another lunch."
"Then a club."
Victor frowned "A club?"
Sebastian pointed "See."
"What?"
"That's the first thing you've reacted to."
Victor ignored him.
Sebastian sighed dramatically.
"Do you understand how difficult it is to avoid your fiancée this efficiently?"
Victor stared "No."
"Neither do I."
Sebastian looked genuinely impressed "Honestly, it's becoming admirable."
Victor pinched the bridge of his nose "You came here to tell me your fiancée has a social life?"
"No." Sebastian paused
Then added thoughtfully "I came here because I'm starting to feel bullied."
Victor almost choked Almost "By Elara?"
"Emotionally."
"Sebastian." Then Victor asked the question.
"Why do you care?"
Sebastian opened his mouth, then stopped.
Interesting. Victor noticed.
Sebastian noticed Victor noticing.
Now nobody was having fun.
Finally Sebastian shrugged, "I don't."
Victor leaned back for the first time all afternoon "You're bothered."
Sebastian looked offended "I'm not bothered."
Victor almost smiled. Almost.
Sebastian pointed at him "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"That."
Victor looked innocent a terrible sign for a moment neither spoke.
Then Victor returned to his paperwork "You wanted this arrangement."
Sebastian's expression changed slightly not much Just enough.
A beat passed.
Then, "Did I?"
Victor looked up immediately.
Because that wasn't sarcasm. That wasn't a joke.
That wasn't Sebastian being annoying.
That was a real question.
And real questions were dangerous, especially from people like Sebastian.
The room grew quiet finally; Sebastian stood and adjusted his cuffs.
Started toward the door, then stopped "Actually, Victor."
Victor looked up "What?"
Sebastian adjusted his watch a small habit.
One Victor had learned to distrust.
"Your daughter should be more careful."
The office became quiet.
Victor's eyes narrowed "Meaning?"
Sebastian smiled. Not pleasantly.
"Meaning Manhattan is full of interesting people."
"Interesting places."
"Interesting situations."
He tilted his head slightly.
"And Elara seems determined to experience all of them."
Victor's expression hardened.
Sebastian noticed.
Good that had been the goal.
"You sound concerned."
"I'm not." The answer came immediately.
"Then what's your point?"
Sebastian's smile widened "My point is simple."
He met Victor's gaze "If you want this engagement to work"
A pause "Control your daughter."
Victor slowly stood neither man looked away.
Then Sebastian added quietly, "Because if she becomes my problem"
The smile disappeared "I promise you won't enjoy my solution."
For several seconds, the office was completely silent.
Then Sebastian walked out.
Leaving Victor staring at the closed door.
Because for the first time during the conversation, it hadn't sounded like a joke.
The black sedan disappeared into traffic for a few moments neither of them spoke.
The city moved around them. Cars. People.
The distant sound of a siren somewhere downtown.
Normal. Everything felt normal yet the image of the woman remained.
Sara was the first to break the silence "That was strange."
Elara slipped her phone into her coat pocket "A little."
Sara glanced at her. That answer alone was unusual.
Elara rarely admitted when something bothered her.
Which meant it definitely had.
"You know her?"
"No." The answer came immediately too immediately.
Sara noticed but didn't push.
If Elara wanted to talk, she would.
Eventually, usually, maybe.
They continued walking.
Snow lined the edges of the sidewalks.
Store windows reflected the fading evening light. For a while, neither said anything.
They continued walking. The conversation drifted elsewhere.
The jacket Sara still felt guilty about. Yuze's love life
Normal things. Exactly what Elara wanted.
Then Sara suddenly grabbed her arm "Wait."
"What?"
Sara pointed across the street.
A bicycle nearly hit a mailbox.
Barely recovered then wobbled again.
Elara frowned the rider looked familiar.
A second later she recognised him.
Alex.
He was riding one handed.
A paper grocery bag tucked awkwardly beneath his arm.
The bicycle looked older than he was.
The groceries looked seconds away from becoming roadkill.
Sara immediately looked entertained "Oh my God."
"What?"
"He's trying so hard not to fall."
Alex finally looked up and saw them.
The bicycle immediately swerved a dangerous amount.
His eyes widened.
For one horrifying second, he almost rode directly into a parked car.
Somehow he recovered. Barely.
Sara covered her mouth, and Elara looked away.
Her shoulders were shaking.
Alex stopped a few feet away, still on his two-wheeler, still holding the groceries
And looking like he wished the earth would open beneath him.
"Hi."
Sara lost the battle. The laughter escaped instantly.
Alex pointed at her "You didn't see anything."
"I absolutely did."
Alex looked toward Elara; she was smiling too.
Not laughing- worse, smiling.
His embarrassment increased immediately "Great."
Elara tilted her head "You nearly crashed."
"I was distracted."
Sara looked delighted "By what?"
Alex stared at both of them, then at the grocery bag then back at them.
"I suddenly feel judged."
Elara nodded.
Alex climbed off the bike still looking mildly horrified.
Elara's smile remained.
Alex parked the bicycle beside a nearby railing.
A few feet away, Sara glanced between them.
Then toward an empty bench.
Without a word, she walked over and sat down.
Phone already in hand.
Alex watched her "Good friend."
"The best." Elara said.
"I can tell."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
Alex leaned casually against the bicycle.
Elara glanced at the grocery bag "You actually buy your own groceries."
Alex looked horrified "Of course I buy my own groceries."
"You never know."
"What exactly do rich people think happens?" Alex is shocked.
"I don't know" Elara considered it "Maybe food just appears."
Alex pointed at her "See."
"There it is."
"What?"
"The billionaire behaviour."
Elara laughed "I'm not a billionaire."
"That's the part you disagreed with?"
She smiled.
Alex shook his head, then looked around the street.
The small shops, the old apartment buildings the crowded sidewalks.
"So what are you doing here anyway?"
Elara raised an eyebrow "Here?"
"This neighborhood."
His hand gestured vaguely around them.
"You don't exactly look like you belong in average people territory."
Elara looked offended "Average people territory?"
"You know what I mean."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do."
"I really don't."
Alex sighed "Elara, you arrived here carrying shopping bags that cost more than my bicycle"."
She looked at the bicycle, then at him "That's possible."
"Thank you."
"You should get a better bicycle." Elara said sarcastically.
"You should stop judging my bicycle."
"I'm judging you."
"That's somehow worse." The smile stayed on her face.
It always seemed easier around him Less effort Less pretending.
Then Elara suddenly said "I never got your number."
Alex blinked "What?"
"Your number."
"You don't have it?" Elara rolled her eyes.
Alex pulled out his phone.
A few seconds later both phones vibrated "There."
He slipped his phone away.
"Now you can contact me when you need professional grocery advice."
"I'll try to resist."
"You won't."
"I probably won't."
For some reason that made both of them smile.
Then Elara asked "Where do you live?"
Alex pointed vaguely down the street "A few blocks from here."
Her eyebrows lifted "Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"You walk around here every day?"
"Most days."
"Interesting."
Alex narrowed his eyes "Why do I feel judged again?"
"You should."
He laughed then noticed her expression change.
Instantly The smile disappeared.
Her attention shifted somewhere behind him.
Across the street, Alex followed her gaze automatically.
A man stood near the corner.
Dark, expensive coat. Tall. Motionless Watching.
Not the city, not traffic Them.
Alex frowned "What?"
Elara looked away immediately too quickly "Nothing."
That wasn't convincing. Alex glanced back toward the stranger.
"What happened?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing." The answer came faster this time.
The atmosphere suddenly felt different heavier, like the day had shifted without warning.
Across the street, Alaric Viremont stood perfectly still.