)

"From my time undercover as one of Mason's recruits, I've had the opportunity to delve into his thought process. He's manipulative, cunning, but also surprisingly paranoid. If we're searching for a passphrase, it must be something deeply personal to him, something he wouldn't suspect anyone else to know. However-"

"So, what you're suggesting, Cora," Alison began, choosing her words carefully, her voice remarkably steady despite the exhaustion, "is that the passphrase could be something only I might be aware of, given my history with Mason." 

Cora nodded. 

While Cora continued her train of thought, Alison fought to stay awake. Her head dipped slightly, and her eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, clearly succumbing to exhaustion.

On the other side of the table, Mason remained silent throughout. His eyes stayed shut, and it was clear that getting him to talk wouldn't be easy.

"Can we hire a hacker or a technician for this job?" Alison asked, her mind racing through possibilities despite her mental exhaustion.

Gabriel stepped in, answering for Cora, "It's not that simple. Mason has implemented intense security measures to protect this passphrase. Highly secure systems and practices make it nearly impossible for hackers to gain unauthorized access."

Alison simply stared at Gabriel, her gaze fixed, her thoughts drifting. 

Grayson, sitting beside Alison, stayed quiet. Nobody knew Mason the way Alison did. There was nothing he could contribute in terms of insight or strategy. 

His eyes roamed around the booth, shifting from Cora to Gabriel, then to Rupert, Mason, and back to Alison.

Rupert chimed in, matter-of-factly, "Mason's history has either been erased or concealed, much like your records," he said. It was evident he wasn't going to allow Alison the satisfaction of thinking he was too embarrassed to speak up. "Consider what matters most to Mason, something deeply ingrained in his life. He's obsessed with control and power, but he's also obsessed with you."

Grayson's eyes shifted back to Alison.

She shifted uncomfortably, her fingers tapping on the table. Grayson could see that the flood of memories and emotions must have been overwhelming for her.

"Think back to your time with Mason. Think about your shared experiences, your conversations, and even your arguments," Rupert continued, trying to provoke a reaction from Alison. "Think about the times when he seemed vulnerable, the moments when his guard slipped. Or what was he like when he thought no one was watching?" 

Alison remained composed, refusing to let the memories of Mason affect her anymore.

As Rupert continued, Grayson silently brainstormed alongside them, trying to contribute ideas to ease the burden on Alison. And then, a thought struck him. 

Mason had a brother, an aspect that didn't align with what Grayson had learned from the files about Mason. There was no record of Mason having any siblings. Moreover, Mason had penned an acknowledgment page specifically for Alison, an unexpected act. The book held a crucial clue or even the passphrase itself. Alisa had mentioned that it was at least a paragraph long, making it difficult for hackers to crack.

He gently placed a hand on Alison's shoulder, sensing the stitches under her shirt. "The book," he said softly, almost a whisper. 

Alison suddenly froze, her eyes unblinking, and for a moment, it seemed like she wasn't even breathing. Grayson couldn't tell whether exhaustion had overtaken her or if she had drifted into some deep thought. Then, as if in slow motion, her hand reached up and gently grabbed Grayson's hand, guiding it down to rest beside her under the table.

Cora was the first to voice her curiosity. "Book? What book?" She exchanged puzzled glances with Rupert and Gabriel.

Gabriel, ever observant, caught sight of the hidden book concealed beneath the plates of pancakes. He nudged the plates aside and retrieved the book, reading its title aloud, "The Lost Cause." Gabriel's gaze shifted to Alison, his curiosity piqued. "Is this one of your books, Alison? Did you write this?"

Alison didn't respond immediately. She remained frozen in that strange, almost trance-like state, the only sign of life being her fingers gently squeezing Grayson's hand. It was as if the book had triggered something within her, something she struggled to recall or suppress.

Gabriel turned to Grayson, his eyes seeking answers. "It seems it all comes down to you, Hawthorne," he began slowly, his tone suggesting that he half-expected Grayson to hold all the answers.

Grayson decided to respond, buying some precious time for Alison. "Mason wrote it," he replied.

Gabriel swiftly flipped through the pages, then redirected his piercing gaze at Grayson, demanding further explanation.

"It's a series of letters compiled to form a narrative," Grayson explained, though his responses remained intentionally vague.

Cora leaned in from beside Gabriel, attempting to catch a glimpse of the book. "To whom were the letters addressed?" Gabriel asked. 

Sensing the weight of his expectant stare, Grayson continued to provide some insight. "They were letters written to his brother in the army."

"Mason's brother?" Rupert mused as he leaned in closer to inspect the book. He exchanged looks with Cora, silently communicating their next steps. Cora opened her laptop and began typing, which Grayson assumed she was searching for any potential clues related to Mason's brother and the letters.

Gabriel nodded slowly, absorbing the details but withholding acknowledgment. His gaze shifted to Mason, who sat silently with closed eyes. Grayson could see that Mason's lack of reaction to the revelation further raised Gabriel's suspicions.

Alison, who had been silent and almost immobile during this exchange, finally seemed to snap back to the present. Her grip on Grayson's hand loosened, and she took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of energy she had left. "In the presence, I found the cure, Now everything feels just right," she said softly. 

Mason's reaction was the moment everyone had been anticipating. Almost instantly, he opened his eyes, his gaze fleetingly meeting Grayson's before settling on Alison.

"Excuse me?" Cora's brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes shifting between Alison, Mason, and the laptop screen.

"A touch so pure, my heart is sure. Guiding me through both day and night," Alison continued, her voice growing stronger as she brushed aside Cora's interruption. 

Each word seemed to stir something in Mason. His eyes widened, but there was a complex array of emotions - anger, shock, sadness, and awe - all flickering across his face. 

What was Alison saying?

"With every step, by my side, no breaking now, I promise so, through every trial, high and low," Alison's words flowed, and Grayson, trying to keep up, initially believed it was a love poem from Mason's book, but the way Alison spoke them sounded like she loathed every single word. This was something Grayson knew about Alison – her unique ability to infuse her words with a depth of emotion, no matter how much she tried to conceal it.

"Wait, Alison, what are you talking about?" Cora attempted to interject, but Alison pressed on, her tone unwavering, afraid she might not have the energy to finish.

Gabriel, closely observing the scene, hung onto every word. "Stop Al-" he tried to warn her, but his words were drowned out as Alison delivered the final lines.

"In every smile, in every word, Through twists and turns our hearts assured, A promise now, in words bestowed, You'll find why through the long and winding road that leads to my door." 

All eyes were now glued to Alison. Alison's gaze, though distant and tired, found its mark in Mason's eyes. There was a moment of silence, unspoken questions hanging in the air. Surprisingly, it was Mason who finally broke that silence. "You remembered," he said softly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Alison slowly lowered her gaze, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You remembered?" she echoed, her voice catching as she blinked back a threatening tear.

Mason's gaze drifted from Alison to Grayson, his brows furrowing. "Did you-"

"He had nothing to do with it," Alison jaw clenched, her gaze never leaving the table, shutting down Mason's line of questioning.

The last sentence of the poem, "The long and winding road that leads to my door," triggered a vivid memory in Grayson. He remembered the night when Alison, drunk and vulnerable, had uttered those very words in Latin. 

"Longa et obliqua via. Quod ad ianuam meam ducit," Grayson blurted out the Latin phrase. "Why did you say those words to me that night?"

"I was drunk," Alison answered instantly, her words rushed, as if she wanted to clear any misunderstandings. 

In that moment, Grayson grasped the truth beneath her words. She had thought he was Mason at some point that night, lost in the haze of alcohol. The realization left him with an ache for some reason, and he tried to hide the hurt, but Alison could see the sadness in his silver eyes, a reflection of the pain he felt inside. Her hand, still on Grayson's open palm, tried to lace her fingers with his, but Grayson withdrew his hand and folded them in front of his knees.

Cora glanced back and forth between Alison and Grayson, puzzled at what they were talking about. Meanwhile, Gabriel, who had been flipping through several pages in Mason's book, suddenly stopped at a particular page. He looked up at Mason with a curious expression. "Mason, you wrote this poem for Alison?"

Mason kept his eyes fixed on Alison, who avoided his gaze. "Alison wrote the poem for me," he swallowed hard, words catching in his throat, his voice a mixture of sadness and frustration. "I never thought I'd hear those words from her again."

"And that'll be the last time I'll ever say it," Alison declared firmly, her voice, though slightly raised, sounded as if steeling herself for what was to come. 

Mason's expression shifted, anger giving way to a more vulnerable emotion. "Do you honestly believe I didn't care about you?" he questioned, his voice laced with pain. "Do you think I wanted to get attached to someone?"

Alison remained silent, her anger and frustration simmering beneath the surface. Now that they had found the passphrase, she was eager to put an end to this ordeal. Grayson, too, was weary and wanted nothing more than to get some rest, pack his bags, and leave Boston.

Mason wasn't about to let Alison off the hook so easily. He shifted his attention to Grayson, seeing him as the perfect target to provoke a reaction from Alison. "She said that poem to you, didn't she?"

Alison, her anger now blazing, looked up from the table. Her voice cut through the tension, sharp and accusing. "I wrote that poem for you!" Her eyes flashed, and her fists clenched in frustration as she continued to speak.

"In the presence, I found the cure," Alison began, raising one finger. "The first line described how I felt before I met you, Mason."

"Now everything feels just right," she continued, raising another finger. "The second line was about how I believed everything was perfect now, even though it was far from the truth."

Mason opened his mouth to respond, but Alison pressed on, her voice growing louder as she stood up, slamming her hands on the table. "A touch so pure, my heart is sure," she declared. "The third line was about you, Mason Valentine, and your false affection that made me believe our feelings were real."

"Guiding me through both day and night," Alison shook her head, a twisted, angry smile on her lips. "The fourth line was how you controlled my life, dictating my actions and decisions, guiding me day and night."

"With every step, by my side," she inhaled deeply. "The fifth line was about how I knew I couldn't escape you. I can't."

"No breaking now, I promise so..." Alison scoffed. "The Social Contract that you drugged me to sign and forced me into making promises or commitments."

"Through every trial, high and low," she went on, her voice trembling. "The seventh line expressed the agony of living with you, and my thoughts of ending it all."

"In every smile, in every word," she paused again, her voice quivering. "The eighth line signified my pretence, putting on a facade of happiness and affection in front of others. I did it because I cared about you. I had to save you..."

"Through twists and turns our hearts assured," Alison's shoulders slumped, her voice softening. "From the start, I knew we could have tried to make it work, even with the Social Contract, even by writing together again. Maybe then we could have prevented all of this, and everything would be okay."

"A promise now, in words bestowed," Alison closed her eyes, sitting back down, realizing she had overreacted. "Lies after lies. You used empty promises to keep me bound to you."

"You'll find why through the long and winding road that leads to my door." Alison's gaze shifted to Grayson, her eyes intense as she shared the real meaning of the poem. "That was meant for someone who could save me." Her voice softened even more. "I trusted Grayson to end it all because I couldn't do it myself. I needed him to uncover my intentions after a long and painful journey, by which point it might be too late to escape."

Mason absorbed Alison's words, his eyes softening as the poem's true meaning sank in. What had seemed like a love poem had actually been a cry for help, a desperate plea for someone to step in and offer forgiveness.

He let out a deep sigh, his voice carrying a note of sincerity. "You know, when you're shattered, into pieces so small, that's when the light finds its way through the cracks."

Alison's eyes met Mason's briefly, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability passing through her gaze. "The light that seeps through can't erase the darkness you left in its wake."

Mason's gaze fell to the table, and he fell silent, the room filled with the echoes of their past and the weight of their present. It was as if time had come to a standstill, and the words they had exchanged hung in the air, heavy and unresolved.

Mason's eyes briefly shifted to Grayson, who had remained silent during the emotional exchange. Grayson met Mason's gaze with a neutral expression, his silver eyes revealing little emotion. By simply looking into Mason's eyes, Grayson understood why Alison's poem had been chosen as his passphrase. As sad as it was, the poem was a masterpiece of despair. You could feel how deep Alison's emotions ran, and how much Mason impacted her, for better or worse. Grayson also knew Mason just wanted to see how much he mattered to her, even though he regretted the hurt.

And just like Alison, Grayson knew better than to fully trust Mason's words, but he couldn't deny the complexity of the human heart, even in someone who had caused so much pain.

As the room sank into a tense silence, the atmosphere grew palpably heavy. Cora, unable to contain her frustration any longer, finally burst out, "WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?" 

Rupert leaned in closer, his analytical mind at work. In a low voice, he said, "The passphrase - a beautiful poem too," his eyes on Alison. "Gabriel, did you catch all that?"

Gabriel, beside Rupert, had Cora's laptop on his lap. His fingers danced across the keyboard, his eyes never leaving the screen. With a few swift keystrokes, he inserted Alison's poem into a specific file, hoping that it would serve as the passphrase they had been searching for.

Moments of suspense felt like an eternity, and the room was filled with hushed anticipation. Then, after a brief pause that seemed interminable, Gabriel looked up.

"Well?" Cora's question hung in the air, the room holding its collective breath. "Did it work?"

A small smirk played at the corners of Gabriel's lips as he swivelled the laptop screen to face the group. It displayed a simple message: "Access Granted."