“I saw him on Sunday.”

  The voice was low and gravelly—like stone grinding against stone. Me and Blaine brothers turned toward the stairwell where a broad-shouldered man stood, skin faintly tinged green in the hallway light.

  “That’s Lisbeth’s fiancé, right?” he rumbled, glancing at the arcanegraph in my hand. “I’ve seen him around before. Last Friday, I crossed paths with him around seven-thirty. We were both coming home.”

  Thomas and Andreas went still. I felt my pulse kick up.

  “Saw Lisbeth alone the next day... and again Sunday afternoon. She looked upset. Didn’t say anything.” He scratched his jaw. “But Sunday night, around ten—I saw him again. Sitting alone in the park. Holding flowers. Looked like he was thinking hard about something. Didn’t even respond when I greeted him.”

  “You’re sure about the time?” Thomas asked.

  “I always go for a walk at ten before bed. Helps me sleep. Saw him five minutes in.”

  That was it. Our missing piece. Olaf had been near the crime scene Sunday night. The time didn’t perfectly align with Lisbeth’s death, but it was close enough to raise every possible red flag.

  So why hadn’t I seen it in the water?

  It didn’t make sense. Now everything hinged on the Concordia dorm warden. If Olaf returned by eleven, as he’d claimed, then he couldn't possibly be our killer.

  We thanked the young man, noted his details, and descended the stairs again. Only one apartment remained unchecked, its occupants unresponsive to our knocking. We tried again, to no avail. Instead, the neighboring door swung open, revealing a plump, dark-haired woman we'd spoken to earlier.

  “You’re wasting your time knocking,” the woman said, peeking out again from her apartment door. “That’s Anita’s place, but she left for vacation yesterday evening.”

  “Do you know where she went? Any way to contact her?” I asked.

  “Some seaside town—wanted to catch the last warm days of the season. She asked me to look after her cat while she's away. But no, I don’t have a way to contact her directly, we’re not particularly close. Just neighborly acquaintances. She should be back in a week.”

  “Got it,” I said, nodding gratefully. “Thank you.”

  The woman nodded back and closed her door.

  “Well,” Andreas sighed, “looks like we're done here. Doubt this Anita would tell us anything we haven't already heard.”

  “Let’s wrap it up,” Thomas said, giving me that look—half innocent, half smug. “Alice, want to grab dinner with us?”

  “You two don’t waste time, do you?” I smiled. “I could use a meal. There’s no food at home.”

  “Perfect,” Andreas said. “There’s a place nearby—solid food, decent wine.”

  We headed back to the street, but instead of making for the main parking lot, Andreas veered toward a gated residential zone.

  “We’ve got our own ride,” he said, and a few moments later, a sleek crimson vex purred to a stop at the curb.

  I blinked. “That’s… not a government vehicle.”

  “Birthday present,” Thomas said proudly. “Ours is a matching set. He’s got the red, I’ve got the white.”

  “Of course you do.”

  The vex looked like something that belonged in a high-stakes drag race, not crawling city traffic—long-nosed, blood-bright, and humming with quiet menace. We slid into the soft leather interior, and Thomas tapped the ignition crystal. The engine responded with a low, feline growl.

  “So... who’s your father?” I asked, buckling in.

  “Owner of the White Orchid,” Andreas said casually.

  “Wait. The White Orchid?”

  “Plus a couple of casinos,” Thomas added. “If you ever want a table—or to lose money in style—let us know.”

  “Not really my thing. But my best friend might enjoy that kind of night out.”

  “Is she cute?”

  “Very. Succubus lineage. Utterly dangerous.”

  “Say less,” they said in unison. “Just introduce us!”

  “Maybe I will…” I said out loud and sighed, thinking to myself:

  If Lillian hexes these two for being annoying, I’m not intervening…

  By the time that thought passed, we were pulling up to the tavern.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The place was packed—no surprise this late in the evening. Rich smells drifted through the air—grilled meat, roasted herbs, something sweet and cinnamon-spiced. Crisp white linens covered tightly packed tables, and servers wove expertly through the crowd like they'd trained for a ballet.

  We snagged the last table by the window and skimmed the menu, which was surprisingly varied for a tavern. A fair-haired waitress with a strong orcish jawline took our orders, then returned almost immediately with drinks—deep red wine for the twins and cranberry cordial for me.

  “So, Alice,” Andreas said, flashing me a grin over his glass. “Time to spill. Who are you, really?”

  I gave him a dry look. “Getting personal already? I thought we were still in the awkward small talk phase.”

  “That’s the point,” Thomas cut in. “Where’d you grow up? Any scandalous family secrets? Favorite crime scene snack?”

  “And how,” Andreas added, “does someone like you end up in a place like the Enclave?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “We’ve got to vet our teammates.”

  I took a sip of my drink and shrugged. “Born and raised in Vraveil. Broms District.”

  Thomas tilted his head. “But you don’t live there anymore, do you?”

  “No. My family… had a house there. Mom sold it after my dad was killed.”

  The words came out smoother than they used to—but they still stung.

  Neither twin said anything at first. Then Andreas set his glass down with more care than usual.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded once, not looking at him. “It happened eight years ago. That’s actually one of the reasons I went into forensics. I figured if no one else was going to catch the monsters… maybe I should.”

  That earned me a respectful silence.

  Then I let the pause stretch just long enough to grow uncomfortable before smirking.

  “And as for hobbies? Helping my best friend get revenge on her terrible dates.”

  Thomas perked up. “Now that’s an intriguing hobby.”

  “Oh, it’s very fulfilling,” I said, brightening. “We’re currently operating an unofficial campaign of karmic justice. It all started on the day we met…”

  And I went on to tell them the whole story with Phillip. By the time I finished, the twins were doubled over with laughter.

  “You’re two are lethal,” Thomas wheezed.

  “Truly terrifying,” Andreas added.

  “Thanks,” I said, raising my glass in mock salute. “We do our best.”

  Thomas leaned in conspiratorially. “And now, we’re even more desperate to meet your mysterious friend.”

  I just grinned. “That’s a dangerous wish.”

  Our food arrived before they could press further. The twins dove into near-raw steaks, while I tucked into grilled fish and roasted vegetables. For a few minutes, the table went quiet, filled only with clinking cutlery and the occasional satisfied hum.

  “Your turn,” I said, leaning forward with a smile. “Where’d you grow up? What led you to the Enclave?”

  “We’re capital-born too,” Andreas replied. “Our mother moved here from a smaller town before we were born. She came to Vraveil chasing a dream—wanted to become a singer.”

  “And instead,” Thomas added, “she stole our dad’s heart. He heard her singing in some restaurant, fell completely under her spell, and never looked back. Now she’s the leading Blossom at the White Orchid.”

  “She’s even been invited to perform abroad,” Andreas said, “but always turns it down. Dad keeps offering to organize a full Republic-wide tour. She just laughs and tells him she already has everything she ever wanted.”

  I blinked. “Wait—Salita Reynar is your mom?”

  Thomas grinned. “Stage name. She performs under her maiden name.”

  Salita Reynar. One of the most iconic voices in the Republic. Her songs sold out within hours of release, and yet she’d never given a public concert. Her decision to perform exclusively at the White Orchid only added to the mystique, and her personal life was famously private.

  “That’s... actually kind of amazing,” I said. “So how did the sons of Vraveil’s most glamorous singer end up here?”

  “We were obsessed with mystery stories growing up,” Andreas said. “Used to sneak into our neighbor’s garden just to stage fake investigations.”

  “When we told Dad we wanted to work in law enforcement, he flipped,” Thomas said, chuckling. “Didn’t speak to us for a month. He thought we’d take over part of his business.”

  “But Mom backed us,” Andreas added. “Told him he should understand better than anyone what it means to follow a dream.”

  “He caved, obviously,” Thomas said. “He can’t say no to her.”

  “Sounds like a good deal,” I said, smiling. “You got the dream and the drama.”

  We lingered at the table a little longer, talking about nothing in particular, until the bill arrived. Afterward, they dropped me off at home. An hour later, after a hot bath and a few pages of a novel, I drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  I woke up screaming.

  The nightmare clung to me like smoke—my father drenched in blood, Torian kneeling beside him, and Armon standing nearby, wearing that smug, frozen smile.

  “You’ll never prove a thing,” he said in the dream. “And your gift’s worthless.”

  My heart slammed against my ribs. I gasped for air.

  Still shaking, I stumbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water over my face again and again, until the edges of reality sharpened. But the dread stayed with me—thick and unmoving.

  I needed to hear a familiar voice.

  Activating my comm-amulet, I sent a signal across the miles. A moment later, my grandfather’s voice crackled gently into my ear.

  “Morning, Firefly. What are you doing up at this hour? Is something wrong?”

  “No,” I lied softly. “I just missed you and Mom. I wanted to hear you.”

  Three years ago, after Grandma passed, Grandpa had moved to a coastal town near the Alarian Sea. This summer, after I graduated from the Academy, Mom followed him there.

  “You’re sure everything’s okay?” he pressed. “You don’t sound quite yourself.”

  “I’m fine. Really. How’s Mom?”

  “Oh, she’s glowing,” he chuckled. “Sleeping in today—she went out with that Arcanis again. The one she met on the beach a few days ago. He seems like a gentleman.”

  I smiled, for real this time. “That’s amazing, Grandpa. She deserves it.”

  “How’s work? Anyone giving you trouble?”

  “Actually, no. The team’s great. I’m working with vampire twins—sons of Salita Reynar and the White Orchid’s owner.”

  “You’re kidding,” he laughed. “Guess we’re finally getting those early music drops, huh?”

  “I already put in a request,” I said, grinning.

  “What about your supervisor?” he asked more carefully. “Did you tell him about your method?”

  “Yes. I’ve already used it on an active case. He didn’t hesitate.”

  “That’s my girl.” His voice softened. “You know I still worry about this line of work—but I believe in you. You’ll be the best in the capital. Maybe even better than that Thorne fellow. Have you met him yet?”

  Silence.

  “He’s my boss,” I said at last.

  Another pause. Longer this time.

  “Alice... is there something you want to tell me?”

  “It’s just a coincidence,” I said quickly. “He leads the top team. I’ll keep things professional.”

  “Please be careful,” Grandpa said, voice quiet now. “And let’s stay away from any unnecessary revenge plans, alright?”

  I didn’t answer.

  We said our goodbyes. I ended the call. Then sat in silence.

  Lillian had called my plan childish. Grandpa warned me to let it go.

  But neither of them had lived through that night.

  Neither of them had seen my father’s blood.

  Neither of them woke from dreams that felt like prophecies.

  No. I couldn’t walk away.

  I would find the truth.

  Even if it meant breaking off the rules to do it...