Radjerd groans, rubbing the skin around his eyes. He takes a deep breath and lets it out—sleep is impossible. It's not because of the thunder outside, either. His meeting with Cordelia went less than stellar—his plan slipping through the cracks. Improvising was never his strong suit—which is why he propositioned a date with Cordelia Firthe instead of sticking to the plan. Judging how she rushed her departure, she wasn’t interested in further communication, and it’s easy to see why. He has to remember; she doesn’t believe his story—even if it’s true. In fact, all she probably sees him as is the man who held a gun to Aleck’s head.

A trickle of intrigue swirls in his gut—a shame he’ll never get to taste those full lips of hers. Or, see that little black dress again. He rubs his eyes again.

Now what does he do?

Feeling a pang of thirst, he sits up from his bed, turning on the lamp beside him; a shadow catches his attention. It reveals itself to be a girl—no—the girl he saw earlier. They meet eye contact, he can see that she wants to come in. Against his better judgement, he nods, allowing her to come in.

<I recognize you from the window.> He speculates. Big doe eyes blink back at him.

<Hi.> She waves, keeping her distance. Her eyes look at him with longing—like they did in the window. It takes a minute to comprehend that she spoke in Antillan. <I’m sorry to startle you—I saw that you were awake.> He sat in the dark before now, so how did she get that impression? Unless, she was spying on him.

<I thought Phoebe was the only Antillan speaker in this place?> He asks curiously.

<Long story.> She replies, lacking enthusiasm. <Speaking of Phoebe, please don’t tell her you saw me here. She’ll be upset.>

<Why?>

<She doesn’t want me involved in the case.>

<Yet you’re here, spying on me.> He smirks as his eyes trail downward. <Not that I mind.>

Her lips curl in disgust. <Please, just don’t.>

<Don’t what?>

<Look at me like that.> She shudders.

<Alright, alright!> Radjerd's not going to blow it with every cute woman he saw. He straightens his back as he clasps his hands together. <How can I help you on this dark and stormy night?>

The girl sits down, wiping out the creases from her dress. Following a deep breath, she announces, <I need to ask you some questions—about your experiences.>

<Ah. Yet you say Phoebe can’t know you’re here—I’m dying to know what has you sneaking around her back.> He arches his chin upward. <I assume I don't need to introduce myself.>

<I know who you are.> She nods, stiffening briefly.

<Well, do I get a name?>

Her voice quickens, <Calista.>

<Fancy name. To what I owe the pleasure, Calista?>

Her lips relax—she had been biting them until now. <I know that you’re not from this reality.> She folds her hands together, inhaling deeply. <What is Fitz to you?>

Radjerd’s taken aback by her peculiar question. Should he answer her? He decides it's not going to hurt. <I’ll give you a freebie. He’s my best friend.> He frowns soon after, reminded that Fitz is still missing.

<Best friend?> She asks, repulsion dripping from her tone.

That’s a reaction he wasn’t expecting.

<Is something wrong?>

<No, I’m just confused.> Disappointed is the word he’d use. <Phoebe told me you don’t know where he is, but is that true?>

<Yes, it's true. I wish I knew what happened to him.>

<Do you think he perished?>

Radjerd’s jaw tightens. <I hope not!>

<I see…> She rubs her hand before asking her next question. <Where did you learn to use a gun?>

He sighs, <Do we have to explore my past?>

<We don’t have to, no. But, if I had to guess, you have a criminal record.>

<Had. Now that I’m here, I don’t have much of an identity at all.>

<Does that mean you know how to hotwire vehicles?> Calista’s eyes light up with intrigue.

He laughs, <No, I was never smart enough to figure that out.>

<So, what can you do?>

<Not much besides aim and shoot a gun. Oh, and I’m also fast on my legs. Being tall has its advantages, but I don’t have to tell you that.> Radjerd smiles, eying her exposed legs.

<I’m not that tall.> She pouts.

<It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Tall women are—> He’s cut off by her warning stare. <—Healthy looking.>

<Mhmm.>

<Yes, I suppose I shouldn’t piss off every woman I’ve talked to today.> He shakes his head, letting out a pitiful laugh.

<You mean Phoebe, right? She seems relaxed, but don’t get on her bad side. She’s stubborn.> Calista crosses her arms. <She’s not big on messing with the order of things—even if it’s for someone else's own good.>

<No, I meant Cordelia.> The dark-haired girl freezes, much to Radjerd’s confusion. <Not a fan?>

<I never said that.> Calista squeaks. Radjerd knows that tone, she’s trying to be polite. .

<Don’t worry—I doubt Cordelia will come back. I scared her off.>

<Scared her off?> She echoes.

<To be fair, she thinks I broke into her house. I also threatened her father with a gun as you know. What you don’t know is, I asked her on a date—of sorts. She wasn’t happy with that.>

<I see.> Her face relaxes. <Sounds like you don’t have anything to worry about. From what I know, she’s normally hot-tempered.>

<You know Cordelia?>

<Firthes are a public fascination…> Calista shrugs. <If you want to know more about her, just hop on the wifi and do some research. Cordelia’s pretty transparent.> Radjerd raises a brow. <What? It’s not rude, it’s true!>

<From how you sound, I’d think you have a vendetta against her.>

<She’s not the nicest of individuals, I’ll say that. But if you’re interested in getting to know her, I’d highly encourage you to. Maybe you’re exactly what she needs to take the edge off.>

He laughs, <You’re quite observant, Calista.>

<Yeah, I’ve done a lot of listening growing up—I was never able to get a word in with my mother in the room.> Her laugh is hollow. <But enough about that. From what I know about Cordelia, I suggest you get your hands on some white lilies. They’re her favourite flower—which is a detail many people seem to miss.>

<If I ever see her again.> He reminds her.

<I’ll bet on my life that you will.> Calista stands up. <Now, I need to get out of here before Phoebe sees me.> She pauses mid movement. <One more thing. This is going to sound weird, but…>

<But?>

<Don’t trust anyone here. I can’t tell you why yet, but be on your guard. Don’t tell anyone anything about the watch. Not even Cordelia.>

<You’re not going to tell me why, are you?> He crosses his arms.

<I know we just met, but I need you to trust me on this.> She clutches her collar. <I’m trying to protect you.>

<Rather kind for someone I just met.> He leans back. <But fine, I won’t open my mouth.> He wasn’t planning to anyway, but he won’t tell Calista that.

<Thank you.> Relief washing over her, Calista takes her leave. Radjerd watches as she hurries down the hall—now he wishes he stopped her. He’s got even more questions than he had before.

Radjerd’s stomach growls—it’s been an hour past breakfast and still, they had brought no food. Were they planning to starve him now? He didn’t have much to do besides mull over Calista’s warning—thanks to her, he'll be critical over every single detail. Thanks a lot. He took his morning shower, lamenting what the lack of gel did to his hair. It’s becoming too fluffy for his own tastes.

His suspicion doesn’t quell when Phoebe enters his room. He changes his mind when he notices an attendant behind her—with his god damn breakfast—it’s just cereal, but it’s better than nothing.

<Consider yourself lucky—you’re going on that date you wanted.> Her tone isn’t as friendly as what he’s accustomed to. Or, maybe that’s the paranoia filtering her tone. Wait… did she just say date? Cordelia agreed? <You look shocked—wasn’t that what you were hoping for?>

<I wasn’t expecting it.> He can truthfully say.

<I’m hoping you’re good for this afternoon—we’ve booked a remote place for the two of you to have an honest discussion. You’re fortunate that Cordelia’s up for this, considering how you acted yesterday. You’ll be receiving a company card—it has a considerable spending limit should she want something fancy. Also, please be discreet as possible. We don’t want attention drawn to either of you.>

<You won’t have to worry about that.> Radjerd cracks his knuckles. <If anyone bothers us, I’ll get them off our trail.>

<No you won’t.> Phoebe warns. <We don’t need any investigations tying your identity to Radjerd Laurius. Now, hold out your wrist.> Radjerd sees Phoebe reach into her lab coat pocket, pulling out a smart watch.

<What’s that?>

<It’s a tracker—just to make sure you don’t run off too far.> Phoebe shares.

That doesn’t put his suspicions at bay. <Let me guess, I can’t take it off myself or I’ll be zapped?>

<You won’t be zapped. Now hold your wrist out.> He does as instructed, eying Phoebe carefully as she secures the device around his wrist. The buckle snaps shut as she puts her finger over the screen. <Besides, you won’t be able to take it off—I just sealed it shut with my fingerprint.> She raises a playful brow.

<Ha ha.>

<Don’t look so gloom. You’re getting out of here for a couple of hours at least—that’s got to be exciting.>

It was, but… Radjerd can’t take his eyes off of the tracker.

Phoebe sighs heavily as she sticks her hands in her pockets. <Listen, I know Calista was here. She doesn’t agree with the way we run things—but I can’t blame her. It took a while for me to get used to the rules too when I started out.>

<How do you know Calista?>

<She’s family.> Phoebe says dismissively. <With an overactive imagination, I should warn you. Take nothing she says to heart.> Even if Phoebe’s words are true, he’s not going to disregard Calista’s words just yet.

<Is that why you wouldn’t let her talk to me?>

<It’s hard to explain. Just take what she says with a grain of salt if she visits you again, which I’m sure she will.> Again with the secrecy.

<You’re not going to stop her?> He asks.

Phoebe shrugs. <She’s eighteen, it’s not like I have any power over her. If she wants to mess it all up, that’s her prerogative.>

Radjerd bristles. Calista’s eighteen?! She didn't look it... No wonder she wasn't interested in him—he's eleven years her senior!

<I’ll be back in a couple of hours to get you.> Phoebe informs him. <If I were you, I’d think about what I’d want to say to her. And remember, this is the last favour you’ll get until we get solid information, so consider what you're going to say wisely.> Phoebe scans him over. <You need anything else?>

Radjerd smiles. Yes, there is something she can do for him. <Actually, I do. Do you know where I can buy some white lilies?>