CELESTE
The call came at eleven-thirty at night.
I'd just gotten Luna to sleep after hours of restless tossing, her small body fighting exhaustion even as her eyelids drooped. The medication made her irritable, and bedtime had become a battlefield of tears and protests that broke my heart every single time.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Unknown number. Seoul area code.
I answered before it could wake her. "Hello?"
"Lab 4. Now." Jae-won's voice was clipped, cold. "There's an issue with the decryption sequence."
"It's nearly midnight-"
"I'm aware of the time, Dr. Moreau. The data corruption doesn't care about your schedule."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, rage and helplessness warring in my chest. Of course there was an issue. Of course it couldn't wait until morning. Of course he would summon me like I was an employee he owned rather than-
Rather than what? A woman he'd once loved? The mother of his child?
I was neither of those things to him anymore. I was a thief. A prisoner. An asset.
I looked at Luna, finally peaceful in sleep, her dark hair spread across the pillow like ink. Monsieur Hopps was tucked under her arm, one of his button eyes catching the dim light.
There was no one to call. No Madame Laurent from upstairs. No Nina to rush over and sit with her while I dealt with whatever crisis Jae-won had manufactured.
I had no choice.
I dressed quickly, then wrapped Luna in a blanket and lifted her carefully from the bed. She stirred but didn't wake, her head falling against my shoulder with the boneless trust only children possess.
The weight of her-so small, so fragile-made my throat close.
I carried her through the silent apartment, into the elevator, down through the empty building. The guard at the lab entrance looked surprised but said nothing as he scanned my badge and opened the door.
Lab 4 was blazing with fluorescent light, monitors glowing blue in the darkness. Jae-won stood at the main workstation, his tie gone, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw tight with the kind of frustrated intensity I remembered from late nights three years ago.
He looked up when I entered, his expression already forming into a reprimand, but the words died on his lips.
He was staring at Luna.
I shifted her weight in my arms. "I had no one to leave her with. Whatever this issue is, I'll fix it quickly."
He didn't respond. Just kept staring at my daughter-our daughter-sleeping against my shoulder.
"There's a sofa in your office, isn't there?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. "I'll put her there."
He nodded once, stiffly, and gestured toward the adjoining door.
The office was exactly what I expected-minimalist, expensive, cold. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seoul's glittering skyline. A massive desk with nothing on it except a single laptop. And against the far wall, a leather sofa that probably cost more than most people's cars.
I laid Luna down carefully, tucking the blanket around her, positioning Monsieur Hopps where she could reach him if she woke. She sighed in her sleep, curling onto her side, one small hand tucked near her face.
Perfect. Peaceful. Completely unaware that her entire world was balanced on a knife's edge.
I brushed my fingers through her hair once, then forced myself to turn away and return to the lab.
Jae-won was still standing in the same spot, but his eyes had followed me through the glass wall that separated his office from the lab. Watching. Always watching.
"What's the issue?" I asked, moving to the workstation.
He didn't answer immediately. When I looked up, he was staring past me, through the glass, at Luna sleeping on his sofa.
"Jae-won."
He blinked, his focus snapping back to me with visible effort. "The decryption algorithm hit a recursive loop. The entire sequence locked down."
I turned to the screen and saw the problem immediately. "This isn't a corruption. This is a failsafe. My father built it into the encryption deliberately."
"Can you bypass it?"
"Yes. But it'll take time."
"Then start."
I sat down and began working, my fingers flying across the keyboard, navigating through layers of code my father had designed to keep his research safe from exactly the kind of people who'd stolen it.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
Behind me, I heard Jae-won move. Not toward his office. Not toward the door. Just... pacing. Restless. His footsteps echoing in the empty lab like a heartbeat.
Minutes passed. Maybe an hour. I lost track of time the way I always did when I was deep in code, following the logic trails my father had left like breadcrumbs.
"There," I finally said, sitting back. "The failsafe is disengaged. The sequence should continue processing through the night."
Silence.
I turned in the chair and found Jae-won standing at the glass wall, staring into his office. At Luna.
His expression was... wrong. Broken. Like something inside him had cracked open and he didn't know how to close it again.
"Jae-won?"
He didn't move. Didn't acknowledge me. Just kept staring at my sleeping daughter with an intensity that made my chest tighten with something that felt dangerously close to hope.
Then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "She looks like you when you sleep."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I stood slowly, my heart hammering. "What?"
JAE-WON
The memory slammed into me without warning, violent and unbidden.
Three years ago. Morning light filtering through white curtains, painting everything gold. Celeste asleep in my bed, her auburn hair spread across the pillow like spilled wine. Her face relaxed, peaceful, all the brilliant defiance smoothed away into something soft and trusting.
I'd watched her sleep that morning, unable to look away. Memorizing the curve of her cheek, the way her lips parted slightly with each breath, the small hand curled near her face exactly like-
Exactly like the child sleeping on my sofa right now.
The resemblance was devastating. The same posture. The same unconscious vulnerability. The same trust that I knew-that I'd always known-was a lie.
My chest tightened until I couldn't breathe.
"She looks like you when you sleep," I heard myself say, the words escaping before I could stop them.
Behind me, Celeste went very still.
I couldn't turn around. Couldn't face her. If I looked at her now, I would see the same woman from that memory. The one I'd loved. The one who'd destroyed me.
The one who might have stolen more than just research data.
"Jae-won-" Her voice was careful, tentative.
"Don't." The word came out harder than I intended. "Don't make a habit of this. Bringing her here."
"I had no choice-"
"There's always a choice, Dr. Moreau." I forced myself to turn, to look at her, to lock every emotion behind the mask I'd perfected over three years of searching for her. "You made yours three years ago."
Her face paled, but she lifted her chin. Still defiant. Still impossible to break.
God, I hated her.
God, I-
I turned away before I could finish the thought and walked toward the door. "The algorithm is running. You can go."
"Just like that?"
I paused, my hand on the door handle. "What else is there to say?"
Everything. Nothing. Words that would shatter whatever fragile truce we'd built. Questions I was too afraid to ask.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For letting me bring her."
The gratitude in her voice was worse than her defiance.
I left without answering, the door closing behind me with a soft click that sounded too much like finality.
In the empty corridor, I leaned against the wall and pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to banish the image of the sleeping child with my eyes and Celeste's face.
Trying to ignore the math that kept circling in my head like a predator.
Two and a half years old.
The numbers wouldn't stop aligning.
And I was running out of reasons not to look.