Chapter Fifty-Six

Celeste barely slept. Every creak in the apartment, every passing shadow beneath the door, set her on edge. The man's words—We're not alone—echoed in her mind, sinking into the quiet spaces between her thoughts. It was the kind of fear that didn't just sit in her chest; it settled into her bones, whispering that something was coming.

By the time morning arrived, she felt like she had been running all night, despite never leaving her bed.

Nathaniel was already awake, standing by the window with a cup of coffee in hand. He looked as tired as she felt, dark circles under his eyes, his suit jacket hanging loosely over the chair. The tension in his posture was different from his usual sharp control—it was restrained, braced, like he was waiting for something to break.

Amelia, on the other hand, was pacing. She had been up for hours, flipping through old books, rechecking notes, scribbling down theories that never seemed to satisfy her. Every so often, she would glance at Celeste, worry flickering behind her frustration.

Celeste ran a hand through her hair. "Anything?"

Amelia exhaled sharply, tossing her pen onto the table. "No. Nothing. Every logical explanation falls apart the second I try to apply it to you."

Nathaniel glanced over. "My contact is still looking into it. No hits on facial recognition yet."

Celeste chewed on her lip. "And what if they don't find anything?"

Nathaniel set his coffee down with a quiet clink. "Then we start asking the right questions."

Celeste frowned. "Like what?"

Nathaniel met her gaze, steady and serious. "Like who else knows you exist."

Silence stretched between them.

She hated the way those words made her feel—like she was something secret, something fragile that could be exposed with the wrong whisper.

Amelia crossed her arms, her voice sharper than before. "Who else could know? Who would even think to look for her?"

Nathaniel's expression was unreadable. "I can think of a few people."

Celeste's stomach twisted. That didn't ease her nerves.

Amelia let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing her temple. "Great. So we're back to waiting?"

Celeste didn't want to wait. Every second spent in limbo only made the unease in her chest tighten, like a coil winding itself tighter and tighter, waiting to snap.

"There has to be something we can do," she said.

Nathaniel studied her for a long moment. Then he sighed. "There might be."

Amelia straightened. "What do you mean?"

Nathaniel hesitated. He glanced out the window, his fingers tightening around the edge of the counter.

"There's someone who might have answers," he admitted. "Someone with knowledge about how things like this happen."

Celeste narrowed her eyes. "Things like me?"

Nathaniel's jaw tensed. "Yes."

Amelia's frown deepened. "And you're just now bringing this up?"

Nathaniel's gaze flickered to her. "Because it's risky."

Celeste exhaled slowly. "How risky?"

Nathaniel didn't answer right away. That was enough of an answer.

Amelia shook her head. "No. We're not putting her in danger—"

Celeste squared her shoulders. "I want to do it."

Amelia turned to her, eyes flashing. "Celeste—"

"No." Celeste stepped forward, feeling the weight of every choice that had been taken out of her hands since this started. "I can't just sit here while everyone else decides my future for me." She looked at Nathaniel. "If this person can give me answers, I need to meet them."

Nathaniel watched her carefully. His gaze was sharp, calculating—but beneath it, there was something else. A quiet understanding.

After a long pause, he nodded.

"I'll set it up."

Amelia sighed in frustration, shaking her head, but Celeste reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold.

"I need this," Celeste murmured.

Amelia held her gaze, reluctant. But after a moment, she let out a slow breath and squeezed back.

"Then we do it together."

Celeste's heart swelled.

Nathaniel grabbed his coat, already dialing a number. "Get ready. We leave in an hour."

Celeste swallowed, her mind racing.

Whatever was coming next—

She wasn't going to face it alone.