Ruben arrived at the Aid headquarters just past midnight. He didn't expect to find Natasha there.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, raising a brow.
"I should be asking you that," Ruben said. "It's late."
Natasha gestured to a dimly glowing tracker on the screen. "For years, the trace line for Paige was dead. Tonight—it's flickering. Just faint, but definitely alive."
Ruben stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "That means she's in Windhoek…"
Natasha nodded, emotion tightening her jaw. "I never believed her uncle. This… this gives me hope."
"What did he say happened again?" Ruben asked, jaw clenched.
"He claimed she died in a car crash with her family. Said only ashes were recoverable." Her voice dropped. "Too neat a story."
Ruben turned to the console and loaded the surveillance footage he'd been sent.
"That's the girl you met recently, isn't it?" Natasha said.
"Yeah," he muttered. "She rattled Nate. Now he's got me hunting her online presence—told me to find and wipe the video clean."
"Does he know what you really do?" Natasha asked.
"Hell no. He just thinks I'm his personal genie."
Natasha smirked. "You always said you weren't into relationships."
"I'm not. I just said she's sweet, scary, and hot. That doesn't make a relationship—it makes a problem."
Natasha laughed. "You've never complimented anyone before. Except me."
"She's just… irresistible," Ruben admitted with a shrug.
His phone pinged. Trace located.
"Got the source," he said. "Time to pay a visit."
Ruben knocked—hard—on the door of a modest flat. No response. He knocked again, louder. Eventually, a groggy teenage girl opened it, startled out of sleep. Her eyes went wide when he pulled a gun.
He dropped a bag full of cash in panic.
"Where's your phone?" Ruben asked coldly.
"What?!"
"Your phone and your laptop. Now."
Terrified, she scurried inside and returned with the devices.
"Please… those are my school files…" she pleaded.
He ignored her. Unlocking the devices effortlessly, he scoured the contents. The video was on her phone. He deleted it, found the Instagram post, wiped that too, and deactivated the account.
"What are you… doing?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"If I ever see you gossiping again," he said, "I won't be so kind next time."
With that, he turned and left.
The girl shut the door slowly, heart pounding. She looked down at the cash-filled bag and blinked. Confused. Terrified. Curious. She checked her phone—and gasped.
"All my posts… gone…" she whispered. "But he left me with… an infinite amount of money?"
She locked her door, still shaken, and crawled back into bed, unsure if she was lucky or cursed.
Elsewhere, Nathan rolled an earring between his fingers—the one he found earlier. A strange pull compelled him to fix it onto his bracelet. A quiet, inexplicable gesture.
Back at home, Vicky sat with Emily in her lap, singing a lullaby as the child's breathing slowed into sleep. Evan studied beside them, laptop open.
Vicky whispered a prayer as she tucked Emily in.
"God, please. I just need this job to save Mom. She must survive… Haven't we suffered enough? Is my faith still not enough? Have mercy…"
She stepped away, wiping her tears as Evan looked up.
"How's it going?"
"Great!" he said. "This time, I'll study harder. Even Monica won't beat me."
"She always wins. Maybe you should befriend her, study together?"
Evan groaned. "I've tried. But every time I approach her, I freeze. I start smiling like a dummy…"
He cringed. "We only meet during quiz competitions. This is the third time I've acted weird. Maybe I'm just destined to be silent."
"No, you're not," Vicky said firmly. "You're just shy. We'll figure something out to help you win the Methalon."
She removed her earrings—then paused.
"One's missing."
"Haven't seen it," Evan said.
"It never comes off. These earrings mean a lot to me."
"Maybe they're tired," Evan said.
"What do you mean?"
"They're always on your ears! Maybe they needed a break," he joked.
She chuckled—briefly. "They're more than jewelry. Dad gave them to me, remember?"
"I remember," Evan said softly. "He told you they were for your wedding day. He said he saw you in his dream, running and laughing with a boy… That's why he got them."
"Yeah… a dream," Vicky said bitterly. "How did he even get into my imagination…"
She started searching frantically. "It's of no use now. It never falls off. Where did I lose it?"
"You'll find it," Evan assured her. "Maybe your imagination will rewind again."
She gave him a puzzled look.
"It's not just any earring," she murmured.
Then she wandered into the kitchen to wash the dishes, her heart heavy with memories.