Then Sarah snorted so hard she choked on her own spit.

Lilianna’s left eye twitched. She glanced at Grayson, hoping for him to say something.

But Grayson looked like he was enjoying Neville acting like this, but refused to show it.

Neville’s eyes sparkled innocently.

"What?" Neville tilted his head. "You said you wanted to play a game."

"I meant something like mecha combat..." Lilianna said quietly that Neville almost missed it. "Or at the very least, pool. Darts. Something with stakes."

"Rock-paper-scissors has stakes," Neville replied, as if stating facts. "If you lose, you owe me. If I lose, I owe you one. Simple."

"Still..."

"No prep time. No hidden advantages. Pure fairness." Neville spread his hands wide. "Unless you’re saying you don’t trust your own luck?"

A low whistle came from the couches. Bryan sat with his arms draped across the back of the sofa next to Iris, smiling.

"He’s really good with things like this," Bryan murmured to Iris, just loud enough for the people nearest to hear.

Iris raised an eyebrow in response, smiling too.

Sarah watched from the sofa, sitting next to Iris.

While there was a commotion, she came out from the game room with the others to the living room. They only left Pete and Chronos on the sofa just outside the game room.

She sat herself in the best view before anyone else could claim it, totally enjoying all of this.

Sarah watched as Lilianna put on her saintly expression while her hands were balled to the side.

Classic Lilianna.

Sarah lifted her light brain’s holographic screen and took a sneaky photo of Lilianna.

Perfect.

Sarah’s fingers moved quickly across the light brain’s interface. She added it to her collection of Lilianna’s most embarrassing moments since childhood.

But it didn’t end with just that. She even opened her family’s private group channel and dropped the photo there. She typed three words after the photo.

She’s alive. Having fun. Relax.

Message Sent.

"What are you doing?" Iris asked beside her.

She lowered herself onto the arm of the sofa. Her eyes were darting from Sarah’s face to the light brain and back.

"Sending evidence," Sarah whispered.

She angled the external holographic screen so Iris could see the photo she took of Lilianna.

"If I don’t send proof, my parents will keep going at it until they burn the house down."

Iris looked at the picture, then looked at Sarah. "That bad?"

Sarah slowly smirked. "That bad."

"And you think this will fix it?"

"This," Sarah tapped the screen with one manicured nail, "is the best thing I’ve ever done to keep my parents’ relationship."

She turned off her light brain and sipped her pink drink. "The rest? That’s their problem."

Iris said nothing for a moment. Then she patted Sarah’s shoulder once and moved back toward Bryan.

Not too far, Colonel Vane had heard the quiet conversation between Sarah and Iris. He had also seen Sarah taking a picture with her light brain.

Therefore, he quickly pulled up his own light brain and made the holographic screen small, so no one could see what he was doing.

Without changing his expression, Colonel Vane sent a message to Baron Geron Gringer.

Sir. Do not let the Baroness know. Seaside Estate. High Society Club. Situation: Sarah’s message.

He hit send and closed the display.

○●○●

The Gringer household managed to look both ancient and hyper-modern. It had stone-faced walls reinforced with energy barriers with wide windows that could change from transparent to opaque at a verbal command.

Inside, the main sitting room was warm with yellow light, the kind of deliberately cozy atmosphere that Catalina liked.

This moment was like a set piece in a stage play where all the actors had forgotten their lines.

Geron sat in his high-backed chair with a cup of untouched tea on the side table. He felt the simultaneous vibration of two incoming messages on his light brain.

Sarah came first: In the private group channel, Sarah sent a photo. It was Lilianna’s photo, alive and kicking. Although she looked angry, nothing else seemed off. That was, if he didn’t already know that Lilianna was missing and had been abducted.

Colonel Vane’s message came half a beat later: If he summarized it, it meant: to come to the location. Do not let your wife know. Do not let her come. It’s about your daughter.

Geron was on his feet before he could finish processing either message. His chair rocked backward, and the tea sloshed but didn’t spill.

He moved toward the foyer, already pulling on his outer coat, already calculating the fastest route to—

"Geron?"

Geron stopped in his tracks.

Catalina stood by the doorway that connected the living room to the interior hall. She wore a house dress in muted sage. Her hair was pinned loosely at the nape of her neck.

Her hands were folded in front of her. Her eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted, and her head tilted—obviously, curious.

Geron had been married to this woman for decades. He knew what genuine surprise looked like on her face.

But one was not it.

"Is something wrong?" Catalina asked, her voice pitched just a touch higher than normal.

As if she hadn’t seen the message. As if Sarah’s photo of Lilianna hadn’t already burned into her retinas.

Geron turned to face her completely, looking at her.

Catalina held his gaze for three seconds.

Five.

At seven, her posture suddenly stiffened. She felt like Geron’s stare could drill holes in her body.

She smiled and repeated. "Geron?"

"You’ve already seen the message."

It wasn’t a question.

Catalina’s smile didn’t waver, but a muscle near the corner of her mouth suddenly twitched for a brief moment.

"What message?" she tried.

Geron didn’t tear his eyes away from hers.

Catalina held her smile for another two seconds before she switched tactics, adopting a colder tone. "If something’s happened, tell me. Y—"

"Catalina." His voice dropped low. Each word fell as a stone dropped into still water. "Do not go outside."

"It’s dangerous."