Back at the Aid headquarters, frustration filled the room like a ticking bomb.
"I'm telling you, we're finished. We've tried everything—traces, signals, patterns. Nothing!" Natasha snapped, slamming her laptop shut.
"Don't say that. This is Sir Victor's legacy," Robert said calmly. "We owe him more than giving up."
"You think I don't know that?" Natasha fired back. "This organization is my birthright, my mother's pride. But we've been spiraling ever since Sir Victor died. Paige vanished because of our greed. Now the Aid itself is unraveling."
"…And Simon?" Robert asked. "Still claiming ignorance?"
"Of course. Like he always does."
Just then, Ruben's call lit up the screen.
"Any leads?" Robert asked, leaning in.
Ruben posted a photo.
"Tell me she doesn't look like her," Ruben said.
Natasha stared. "Eighty-five percent match."
"I tried all the tactics I learned in my last post. Her reaction? Clean. Cold. No tells," Ruben said.
"Paige was trained to keep a tight cover since she was eight," Natasha said. "Even under torture, she could hold it together."
"This girl… loves kids. Runs events. She's simple, kind—and stubborn. She stood her ground against Nathan Shikongo, of all people."
"You just met her, and you already know her that well?" Natasha asked, raising a brow.
"She left an impression."
"What's her name?"
"Vicky," Ruben replied.
"Vicky…" Robert echoed. "One thing about Paige—she doesn't like to lie about her name. If she's going by Vicky, it might be real… or close."
"I didn't dig deeper. She started turning the conversation on me—felt sorry I mistook her for my missing girlfriend," Ruben admitted.
"You've got feelings tangled in this," Natasha said, eyeing him.
Ruben ignored the comment. "She was with a woman earlier. I'm going to follow up. Maybe she knows something."
"Alright," Robert said. "Stay sharp."
Natasha stared at the two photos side by side.
"The more I look, the harder it is to tell them apart."
"If Paige changed her name, that's huge," Robert murmured. "She must be running from something serious."
"Or hiding something worse," Natasha said.
—
Ruben pulled his car up beside a woman he'd seen earlier—Faith's mother.
"Excuse me, ma'am."
She turned. "Oh… morning—or is it already afternoon?"
"Midday," Ruben smiled. "Name's Ruben. Just wanted to ask how you know Vicky."
"Vicky? She's my neighbor. Feels more like a daughter, though. That's our place over there."
"How long's she been living here?"
"I moved in two years ago, from the North. She and her family were already settled."
"Family?" Ruben pressed.
"She stays with her mother and two siblings."
"Ah, siblings…" Ruben pretended to forget their names, feigning nostalgia.
The woman narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why are you asking?"
"Well…" he rubbed the back of his neck, putting on his shy act. "I've had a crush on her for a while. Think she moved on and forgot me."
She smiled gently. "Then go after her. Don't ask me."
"I just wanted to be sure. You know, maybe she lives with someone…"
"She doesn't. But maybe you should ask her directly. You have her number, right?"
Ruben read the suspicion in her tone. He smiled and backed off.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Thanks. And uh… please don't mention I spoke to you."
She gave a small nod. "I won't."
They parted ways, but the tension hung between them like unsaid words.