Long, black hair.

Doe eyes.

Pursed, unimpressed lips.

Radjerd groans—shit, had he fallen asleep? It has been the most relaxed he’s felt since he arrived. He doesn’t get much time to wonder, as Calista pulls at his arm. <Change of plans, we need to go—now.>

He takes a quick glance at the wristband. <What do you mean—it’s only what—11pm?>

<We can’t wait. You want to leave, or not?>

<Okay, just hold on. Get this thing off of me first.>

As instructed, Calista pops the watch off with her fingerprint. He’ll appreciate the easy disposal mechanism later. He grabs his jacket, slipping on his shoes—he had to leave the rest behind. He’ll finish that book eventually.

<What’s happening?>

<Look, I’ll tell you later. We need to exit through the fire-escape. The elevators are off-limits, they lead to all the main hubs.> She points right, leading Radjerd to the exit. Good timing; he hears the ding of the elevator as they shut the door. Calista ushers him to follow as she hurries down the cement stairwell, a black backpack half-zipped upon Calista’s back. He notices two files within it. He can barely make out the letters—Firthe, A—which had to be related to Aleck. The other, Firthe, C. So, Cordelia?

She shakes each door—it won’t open! <Come on, the next one should work.> She says to him, running to floor 2. She shakes the handle—also locked.

Calista kicks the door, biting her lip when the impact’s greater than she expects.

<You didn’t lock us in here, did you?>

<Fuck, I hope not.> She speeds down the final flight of stairs—a narrow glass window showcases the outside—streetlamps lighting the streets ahead. Yet, on the door, a red sign displayed; Door Armed, Alarm Will Sound If Opened.

Calista slips off her shoes as she asks, <How fast can you run?>

<I’ll be fine.> Radjerd confirms. Calista leans forward, pushing open the door. The alarm pierces through their ears. He prays that she knows how to get a vehicle. He can’t take the time to appreciate the fresh air—they had to find some kind of cab, and fast. He hopes she has money in that backpack of hers.

<Look, I can carry you on my back if that helps. Running in bare feet isn’t smart.>

<I’m too heavy.> She frowns.

<Look, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve carried someone while escaping.>

<No, we don’t have time!> She speeds ahead of him. <Follow me!>

Like he has a choice. Radjerd follows Calista along the grassy patch to a terminal up ahead. Was she planning to take the bus?! That wouldn’t work!

<We need another way—a bus won’t take us to Diamond Lake Estates!>

<I know that, but a cab will—they park around the side here. I’ve taken them before.>

Radjerd takes short glances behind him; no one’s following them—yet. No doubt him and Calista are plastered throughout the cameras. Willa Corp would be on their asses soon enough.

<NO!> She screams. Radjerd sees why—there aren’t any cabs—or a waiting spot. <I don’t understand—they were here before—shit! I should have checked! I’m an idiot!>

<Look, maybe we can spot one up the road.>

<I was going to call ahead, but I panicked—I promise I’ll get us on one.>

<Hey—there’s one up ahead!> Radjerd motions forward, his arms waves in the air. A limo is parked underneath a street-lamp. It’s black, but he’s ridden them before. They’re usually more money to ride, but if there’s a triangular sticker on the bumper, it’s a passenger car. <You have money?>

<Yes—go—GO!>

Radjerd manages to hit the back of the bumper with his hands—out of breath, it’s his last attempt at getting their attention. A woman steps from the back door, wearing a velvet green gown. She glowers, holding a drink in her hand. Her green eyes burn when she appears to recognize him.

He sees another person get out—the driver. Dammit, this wasn’t a cab at all! Then why did it have that sticker?

He hears Calista’s yelp, <Come back—come back!>

Radjerd squints—holy shit.

He doesn’t understand what she says. He did, however, understand that she called him a bastard.

The woman lunges for him, overestimating her punch. She falls on her knees, her glass splinters across the sidewalk.

Her silver hair is in a tousled mess as she groans, her driver helping her off the ground. She holds the well-dressed woman cusses at him, even giving him the finger.

<See if you can talk to them—go around, she dropped the glass!>

Calista tries, but she stumbles back when the woman meets eye contact.

<Merise?!>

<Listen, she’s Aleck’s wife. I’ll try to reason with her.> Calista reaffirms Radjerd, bracing her hands out in front of her.

<Do you think we have the time for that?>

<We do. It won’t take much convincing—I can speak her language, after all. Wait in the alleyway.> She points to the dark spot between the two brick buildings. <I know we don’t have much time, but I believe I can get her to listen to me. Wait until I give you the all-clear.> He doesn’t have a choice but to follow the girl’s directions. If he doesn’t, he’ll just be thrown in his Willa Corp prison all over again. He dashes in between the buildings keeping a close eye on Calista. The girl helps Merise back to the limo, but not without some struggle—the driver helps too. Calista said she can speak Weltish, but…would that be enough? Merise didn’t know Calista—or he assumed she didn’t. If Calista hadn’t been able to talk to Aleck at the facility, then there had to be a reason why—was it that Phoebe stopped her? Why would she? And the biggest question of all—if Phoebe can’t trust Calista, why did she allow her to work for Willa Corp in the first place?

Radjerd doesn’t know what to do. If he stands here for much longer, there’s a chance someone will catch them. If he runs, he’s got nowhere to go. No money to his name and chances are, people will recognize him as the dead man resurrected. He groans, pressing his fingers between his brows. Instead of the camera, he should have broken that dinky man’s nose! He could have taken the bastard! And, Cordelia seemed to be the kind of woman who would lord things over one’s head for a millennium. No doubt her reputation was at stake—although from what he saw, it may already be tarnished.

Radjerd watches carefully as he sees Calista attempt to reason with Merise. The tempered glass was hard to see through, yet the light in the back of the limo showcased their actions perfectly. He wishes he knew what she was saying—but instead his eyes grasp onto the clues that reveal themselves. She pulls the A. Firthe file from her bag, showing the woman the documents inside. Damn, what he’d give to see what’s written on them. She pulls out two more files, but Merise raises her hand. Was she going to slap Calista? Radjerd’s instinct is to run forward to help, but Calista stops the attack, appearing to narrow her eyes at the woman. Shit, that’s a cold stare. While keeping her hand in place, Calista appears to be rummaging through the files, but what could it be? Unless…she was showing how she’s related to Aleck Firthe—was it a DNA test?

When Calista said she was family, that Aleck would listen to her, it could only lead to one conclusion.

Calista is Aleck’s daughter.

Radjerd’s mouth forms in a circle as he nods, that would make sense why she knew so much about Cordelia. Or, why she didn’t seem as fond of the blonde—she was a half sister that missed out on so much. It’s the only reason Phoebe would have tried to keep Calista away from Aleck—Radjerd has no proof, but that’d be the most logical explanation. The Aleck he knew would never have cheated on Merise, but this Aleck he knew nothing about…

He cocks his head forward. Okay, what was she saying now? She opens the bag, encouraging Merise to have a look inside. Whatever it is, she’s taken aback, cupping the girl’s face instead. That was a sudden change—she even hugs Calista—the black haired girl appears to be uncomfortable. What had he just witnessed?! Radjerd doesn’t know if he should approach the vehicle. At the same time, he had to be mindful—there’s no way the cameras didn’t pick them up escaping. He grips the corner of the brick wall, weighing his options. Calista didn’t wave him over, or leave the vehicle. What was going on?

Calista leans her head back, past Merise’s unkempt bun. Their eyes meet once again, as she nods her chin over. Radjerd peeks around the left corner to see if anyone’s coming. To his relief, no one is.

But he knows it won’t be long before someone does.

Radjerd hesitates—he doesn’t want to be under the streetlight, but he quickly steps forward.

The window rolls down, Merise simply glares at him. She mutters something under her breath, gripping the file in her hand.

He looks down.

Calista Firthe.

His sudden suspicion was correct. With the last name so prominent, no wonder Merise harboured some resentment. In fact, he’s surprised that she didn’t throw Calista out of the car. A secret daughter who was bold enough to take her unknown father’s last name…Calista wasn’t kidding when she said she was family.

He sees Calista leave the vehicle, as she says, <I think she’ll let you come with us.>

<But—how?> He didn’t realize she had much to talk about other than her relation to Aleck. <What did you tell her?>

Calista looks to the side. <What I had to. Please, we have little time. Just sit up front, I’ll explain when we get to the manor.>

<I think Merise wants to kill me.> Radjerd says uncomfortably, noting the feral look in the woman’s eyes.

<Well, I told her that she could have you at her whims.> Calista lets out an uncertain laugh. <She’s drunk, so I think she’ll come to her senses in the morning. Or, keep her senses, rather.>

<Alright, that’s good enough for me. Even if that means I’ll die, I’ll at least be out of that dark room.> He hops into the front seat. The driver stares at him coolly as he buckles up. The private glass raises, leaving both Radjerd and the driver in silence. It suits him well enough that she can’t understand St. Antillan, he’s in no mood to talk. His nerves jumble in his stomach when he watches familiar looking buildings pass him by—It feels like home, but, it isn’t. Even though he’s been here for god-knows how long, it still feels like a dream to him. Fitz, Aleck, the watch…did all of that truly happen? A burst of adrenaline hits his chest as he lets out a soft breath. No, now wasn’t the time to get lost in his head. He has to stay focused, diligent.

He has to know—why is Calista Firthe helping him?