The curtain danced in the gentle breeze as Elias sat on his bed, eyes locked onto the billowing fabric. His hands pressed firmly against his temples, fighting to quiet the turmoil in his mind. The door creaked open softly, and Sara appeared at the threshold, her gentle features creasing slightly at the chaos her tech-obsessed son had created. She sighed quietly, stepping into the room and beginning to tidy up the scattered rags and metal shavings on his desk.

  “Elias, what’s going on with you lately?” she asked, her voice warm but tinged with concern.

  He shifted, peering at her from the crook of his elbow.

  “Your head is always in the clouds, and your father says you’re barely present at your internship,” she continued softly yet firmly.

  He cleared his throat, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Mom, do you remember the orphanage?”

  Sara paused, her gaze distant for a moment as shadows of old memories briefly crossed her features. Her breath caught slightly. “Yes, I do,” she murmured softly, turning toward the window as if looking into the past. After a hesitant pause, she cautiously added, “Is that what’s troubling you? Your father has always kept us safe. He always will.”

  Elias abruptly stood, his feet hitting the wooden floor with a firm determination. His voice trembled slightly. “Yeah, Mom. That’s exactly why I’m worried.”

  As he left the room, the curtain continued its silent dance behind him.

  Outside their modest home, Elias wandered the familiar city streets, his thoughts consumed by the note Nyx had secretly handed him. His footsteps mirrored his distracted mind, circling aimlessly on his day off. Since meeting Nyx, every day had become increasingly difficult. He found himself unable to focus, even avoiding Dom’s eyes.

  Without consciously deciding, his steps eventually brought him to the pristine grounds of the Halcroft estate. Elias found comfort knowing this part of town didn’t require constant vigilance. Like himself, the Wolfe household seemed always caught between two worlds.

  Vera sat gracefully in the gazebo, surrounded by vibrant flowers matching her summery dress. Seeing him, she quickly rose and hurried forward, nearly tripping over the hem of her dress in eagerness.

  “Elias! It’s been far too long!” she exclaimed warmly, hugging him tightly enough to make his face flush at the sudden closeness.

  He chuckled softly, awkwardly returning her embrace. “Good to see you too, Vera.”

  Stepping back, her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “What brings you here today?”

  Elias hesitated, glancing around cautiously. “Your father’s at work right now, isn’t he?”

  She blushed faintly, curiosity mixed with slight disappointment. “Yes, he is. Why?”

  Elias took a deep breath, lowering his voice slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about him and my father—but not if he might overhear. Is that alright?”

  “Oh, okay,” Vera replied, her tone carrying a hint of disappointment. “Come, let’s sit down.”

  They returned to the gazebo, a tray of cucumber sandwiches and scattered papers on the table between them. “Would you like some tea?” she offered, clearing application forms for the magistrate academy from the table.

  “No, thanks,” Elias replied, eyes lingering thoughtfully on her neatly arranged documents. A faint smile crossed his lips. “So, you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps? Must be nice having a clear path.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  She nibbled thoughtfully on a sandwich. “Father needs help, and the academy will give me the skills. What about you? Have you thought about what you'll do after your internship?”

  Elias leaned back, eyes distant. “I don’t know... I want to follow my father, but—”

  Vera giggled softly. “Elias, sometimes you seem more like forty than fourteen.”

  His face flushed deeper. “Why must you always tease me?”

  She laughed gently before gathering herself. “You Wolfes are a peculiar bunch. But our families are bound together, you know.” Her soft hand reached out, resting reassuringly on his. “You can always talk to me.”

  Elias nodded, a small smile forming. “I know, Vera. Thank you.”

  She cleared her throat, withdrawing her hand gently. “Well, we court castaways need to stick together, after all.”

  Elias’s expression became serious again. “That’s actually why I wanted to talk. Has your father ever mentioned why our families are so disliked by the court?”

  Vera paused thoughtfully. “No, Father doesn’t discuss it. Grandfather acts as liaison between him and the court. He mentioned an incident involving your father and mine—some accusation. But neither will elaborate.”

  Elias watched a fly buzzing around the sandwiches. “Do you know anything else?” Vera asked, noticing the shift in his expression.

  “I don’t know everything,” he admitted, “but my aunt mentioned that Mom and she grew up in an orphanage overseen by the court. She described it as a terrible place until my dad rescued them.” His voice dropped, focusing intently on the buzzing fly.

  Vera gently offered her hand again. “I’m sure it was difficult. I’m glad your father protected you all.”

  Elias flinched involuntarily at her words. “Sorry—it’s just that... I worry he may have done something horrible to save them. Something unforgivable.”

  Vera hesitated, clearly troubled by his confession. Her voice softened, filled with empathy. “Whatever happened, Elias, I’m certain he had no choice. Your father isn’t the kind to hurt people without reason.”

  Elias considered mentioning the revolver Nyx had told him about, but held back, heart racing. He stood abruptly, sliding his chair back. “Thanks, Vera. I needed to hear that. I’m glad I came.”

  She nodded softly, gathering the scattered papers before stepping toward him. She embraced him gently but firmly, whispering affectionately, “Anytime, knucklehead. Remember, you’re not alone.”

  After leaving the Halcroft estate, Elias didn’t go home. His feet, like always lately, wandered toward the range.

  The smell of gunpowder and the faint tinge of electricity filled the air. Elias stood at the range, honing his Psy powers, something he’d been doing ever since that day with his father. It helped clear his mind. Bullets whizzed downrange, while the holoscreen tallied his points. Dom’s name loomed atop the leaderboard, as always.

  Elias stared up at his score, sweat on his brow. Thoughts of Nyx’s note and Vera’s words churned inside him. “Did you do it, Dad?” he murmured. “Why?”

  “Now what did Dom do this time?”

  Elias turned to see Marcus stepping into the booth, bullet casings crunching beneath his boots.

  “If only you were this dedicated to paperwork, we’d have a new wing for the precinct,” Marcus quipped.

  Elias let out a laugh. “Yeah… I come here to clear my head.”

  “I see that.” Marcus adjusted his glasses. “Thought you’d be home tinkering on your day off—not blasting targets after tea with Vera.”

  Elias smirked. “Vera’s such a blabbermouth.”

  “Oh, I know,” Marcus said, chuckling.

  He extended a hand. “Since you had lunch with my daughter, do me a favor and humor an old man.”

  Elias handed over the revolver. Marcus took aim, his glasses pressed against the cool steel. With a sharp crack, the bullet soared, Psy energy swirling in blue and violet as it curved around two barriers and slammed into the farthest target.

  The explosion knocked over both the hostile and the hostage cutouts. A loud failure alarm rang through the room.

  “I must be rusty,” Marcus said with a faint smile, lowering the gun. “Your dad was always the better shot.” He gestured toward the scoreboard. A large "MH" was just beneath Dom’s.

  “You’ve got a good eye, Elias. Just make sure you aim straight—and more importantly, aim at the right thing.” He pointed to Elias’s initials, not too far down the board. “Don’t be like me and Dom. Choose your targets wisely.”

  He handed the revolver back, gave Elias a parting nod, and walked calmly toward the exit.

  The room fell quiet again.

  Elias looked down at the weapon in his hand. The metal was still warm from Marcus’s grip.

  “This is the gun,” he whispered, “that killed Vessian Crowe.”

  The words lingered in the air, dancing with the smoke from Elias’s session and Marcus’s display.

  payoff to everything building behind the scenes.