Reina didn't fully trust me, not the type of trust that you might expect. But she trusted the materials that I provided.
That was the sole reason she had agreed to return to my residence rather than to work at the office. Not because she trusted me—she didn't—but because she understood that my residence was more secure than Hudson Security. More security. More access to information. No snooping eyes.
Though the syndicate had decided to lay low during this period, we definitely did not relax or get careless. The failed chase that had happened merely the week before was an obvious sign that they were indeed tracking our movements. It was obvious that they were waiting for us to show up at the warehouse on that particular Sunday. They were gearing up for our push.
This meant that Sofia had actually been there not so very long before.
This indicated that she was, in fact, still very much alive.
That was the most significant aspect.
We had spent countless hours at my residence, indulging in an exhaustive search, carefully examining, and exhaustively dissecting every possible meaning behind the mysterious bracelet we found at the warehouse.
It had been intentional. A hidden clue, similar to the pendant.
Sofia was deliberately leaving an obvious trail for us to trace.
At first glance, the bracelet itself was nothing remarkable—just a simple one made of silver, with minor scratches that had accumulated over the years from constant wear. But when Reina patiently rotated it under the light, we could examine it more closely: a tiny but intriguing engraving on the inside.
S+R
Reina s fingers had trembled slightly as she followed behind it. "She did this all the time," she breathed. "She made initials on things when we were children. I used to tell her it would ruin them, but she never listened."
Her voice was far away, as if she was speaking her words more to herself than for me to listen to.
I remained silent and still, observing all her movements closely.
She was completely drained, completely exhausted from her loss of sleep. I could see that she had slept very little, and it was evident from her appearance. The dark shadows around her eyes were the dead giveaway to the lack of sleep, and I could observe the way she blinked for an exorbitantly long period of time while she was staring at the screen in front of her. She was going on a mixture of coffee and adrenaline, as was I at the time.
I sat back on the desk, watching intently as she continued to turn the bracelet over and over in her palms, studying it carefully from all sides.
"There's definitely something that we're missing," I said.
Reina let out a sigh. "I know.".
She was not involved in any type of argument, and this explicitly showed that she was as frustrated as I was at that moment.
We had searched every nook and cranny of the bracelet. No secret messages within, no secret compartment, no secret writing except the initials. But Sofia was smart. She would not have left this behind unless it was meaningful.
It wasn't just a breadcrumb. It was a map.
We just had to figure out how to read it.
The clock had passed midnight.
The room was dim, lit mostly by the glow of our screens. Reina had taken off her blazer hours ago, now sitting in just her fitted black top, her sleeves rolled up as she flipped through the scanned images of the bracelet.
I would have been cantered on the clues. On the case.
But my gaze kept drifting back in her direction.
The manner in which she would chew on the inside of her cheek whenever she would become lost in thought was quite evident. Also, the manner in which she would mindlessly tap her fingers in a rhythmic pattern against the top of the desk added to her peculiar habits.
She just didn't belong in my life of darkness and turmoil, a world of shadows and brutal reality of violence.
Nevertheless, she was here anyway.
And I didn't know if that made me feel relieved or terrified.
I was going to tell them something when my phone vibrated against the table.
I looked at the screen.
Dad.
I exhaled deeply.
Reina watched carefully. She arched her eyebrow in disbelief and curiosity. "It seems like you're not giving an answer?"
"Absolutely not."
The telephone went silent. But for a matter of seconds.
Then, much to my surprise, it rang again.
Reina gave me a look.
I gritted my teeth. "It doesn't matter."
"It is possible that it could be," she replied back.
It is not about the case.
She crossed her arms. "Then why is he still phoning?
I did not react.
She stared at me intensely, and then, to my utter frustration and annoyance, she reached out with her hand in the direction of my phone and gently pushed it along the top of the table right in my direction.
"Answer the call, Hudson."
I warned her with a glare. "Don't push me, Reina."
She did not back down. "Your dad has called twice in a row. That doesn't seem right."
I muttered a curse quietly to myself, just barely audible.
The phone rang once more.
I quickly grabbed it before I could think better of the choice I was making.
"Father?"
A halt. Then his voice, strained but resolute. "Lorenzo."
I ran a hand down my face. "What is it?"
Another pause.
At that moment, he uttered a single word that made my whole body completely rigid.
"I found out something about your mother."
I stayed quiet for a very long time.
I didn't even get to breathe.
Reina looked at me attentively, furrowing her brow in concentration, as she struggled to read my face and learn what was passing through my mind.
But I barely noticed her presence anymore.
I held the phone harder, a rush of intensity flooding through me. "Would you repeat that?"
"I learned something important," my father persisted. "I cannot discuss the details by phone. It is important I have you with me in the flesh.".
My chest constricted.
My mother.
She had been gone for years. Buried, mourned. But that was not to say I had forgotten.
But that wasn't the same as me having gotten to a place of forgiving myself.
I gulped. "This is not funny."
"I'm not kidding," my father replied firmly. "Come to see me. Tonight.".
This evening.
I was not prepared for this.
I was shocked and not ready to go back to that house, a place full of memories that I had worked so hard over the years of my life to conscientiously bury and keep out of my mind.
I wasn't prepared for any of it.
But I needed to know.
I wanted to know what he discovered.
Reina spoke something, hesitantly. "Lorenzo?"
I gave her the cold shoulder.
"I will surely make it," I promised the receiver of the telephone line.
The moment I hung up, I sat there for a second, my mind racing, and I clutched my phone as if it would stop my thoughts dead in their tracks.
Reina leaned forward. "What was that about?"
I took slow breaths. "He learned something about my mother.".
Her face altered a great deal. Her lips opened slightly, as if to speak something significant, before she halted herself in the middle of a sentence and became lost in thought.
After a moment, she finally glanced in my direction and asked, "Are you going?"
Without any doubt or hesitation, my answer was absolute and definite. "Yes.".
She regarded me steadily, her eyebrows furrowing in a manner that implied she was struggling very hard to reconcile several dissimilar thoughts and suggestions in her mind to construct a logical understanding.
I couldn't quite place my finger on why, but something about her piercing stare made me feel utterly and utterly… exposed.
Therefore, I could manage a forced smile that did little to hide my real emotions. "You seem to be really worried, Reina. I didn't think you were so worried about what was going on.".
Her eyes tightened. "I don't.".
Liar.
She looked aside, mindlessly tapping a pen against the rim of the desk. "What if it's a trap?" she asked, her tone tinged with worry.
"It's not."
"You don't know that fact."
I bent closer, near enough that I could catch the glint of something in her eyes—curiosity, anger, something more.
"My father has no interest in or relationship with this world whatsoever," I replied in a low and measured voice."And I have made it my steadfast determination that it shall be so."
She did not protest.
That, more than anything else, led me to believe that she wasn't just spouting that to annoy me. She had indeed been concerned.
The idea was something that should not have affected me.
But it really did occur.
I departed a little later on.
Reina did not try to dissuade me from proceeding, but as I walked past, she spoke in a worried voice, "Be careful, Lorenzo."
I stopped.
It was really rare for her to call me by my first name.
I moved my head a fraction, inadvertently catching the manner in which she was gazing at me—her arms crossed over her chest, but I could tell that her fingers were half-curl against the fabric of her sleeves, as if she were attempting to contain something or hold something back.
I grinned. "Careful? That came a bit too close to sounding like you care again.".
She theatrically rolled her eyes to convey her annoyance. "What I really need is not to lose my best lead on this case," she went on to say, showing her concern.
"Of course." But as I emerged, I found it impossible to dismiss the deeply ingrained feeling that there was more to what met the eye. And for the first time in years, I wasn't even fazed by the idea of someone actually caring about me.
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