The city of Valmere had begun to forget him.
Posters of Elias Hart were replaced overnight by brighter faces, fresher scandals. His death had turned into a trend — mourned, memed, monetized. The same voices that had once praised him now argued about who owned his legacy.
The noise grew so loud that truth could not breathe inside it.
Maya moved through that noise like a ghost learning to walk again.
She returned to the capital under a new name: Nara Vale, the surname borrowed from the enemy she intended to ruin. The disguise wasn't physical — it was tonal, behavioral. She smiled more. She learned the cadence of shallow laughter, the patience of small lies. The entertainment world adored such masks.
Through her late husband's contacts, she slipped into the orbit of Cassian Vale — the man who had signed Elias's final contract. Cassian's empire, Vanthe Studios, sat like a crown at the heart of Valmere's entertainment district, guarded by lawyers and charm.
At a gala meant to honor "creative resilience," she met him for the first time.
Cassian Vale was all mirror: perfect reflection, no depth. His eyes never seemed to blink, and when he smiled, the air around him thinned. He took her hand and held it too long.
"Miss Vale," he said, his tone smooth enough to stain. "You look familiar."
"Everyone does in this business," Maya replied.
His gaze lingered. "Are you an actress?"
"No. I prefer to stay behind the curtain."
Cassian chuckled. "A shame. The curtain hides the best stories."
Maya smiled faintly. "Not always."
They spoke briefly — surface chatter about art, legacy, and loss. But beneath each word, Maya felt his scrutiny, like cold fingers tracing a locked door. Cassian didn't yet know who she was, but he recognized the scent of danger; men like him always did.
Later that night, she stood outside the theater where Elias had first performed. The posters were gone, the marquee dark. In the alley, a single shard of glass from the old display case caught a streetlight, glinting red.
Maya picked it up and whispered, "Ashes remember."
Then she tucked the glass into her coat pocket and disappeared into the dark.