The hum of the car engine filled the quiet night air as the vehicle rolled down the familiar streets, heading home. The dim glow of passing streetlights cast flickering shadows inside, making the ride feel even slower than it was.
Mia leaned back in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the road ahead. She glanced at her father, Mr. Carter, gripping the wheel, his jaw set in that firm, thoughtful way it always was when he had something on his mind.
"Hey, Dad," Mia broke the silence, her voice casual but carrying an edge of concern. "You should be more careful when you meet Ethan."
Mr. Carter exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly on the wheel. "Yeah… you're right." A pause. "So, you're going to tutor him from tomorrow? Won't it be difficult? Aren't you busy with your own studies too?"
Mia rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I know. But you should also know that I'm smart enough to take on some extra work."
Mr. Carter chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, you are, Haha."
The car slowed as they reached their house—a modest, cozy home, neither too average nor too luxurious, just right for a family of four. Mr. Carter pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. The two stepped out, their shoes crunching lightly against the gravel path.
As they pushed open the front door, a familiar warmth wrapped around them like a cozy blanket. The faint scent of something delicious cooking drifted through the air.
"We're home!" Mr. Carter and Mia called out in unison, their voices echoing lightly through the hall.
Almost immediately, a bright, welcoming voice answered, "Welcome home!"
From the kitchen, Mrs. Victoria Carter appeared, wiping her hands on a checkered apron tied over simple, comfortable house clothes — a soft cream-colored sweater and loose navy pants. Her shoulder-length Rose Gold hair caught the evening light, giving her a soft glow, while her warm hazel eyes and gentle smile radiated the kind of comfort that made the house feel alive. She looked like the kind of person who could fix everything with a hug and a hot meal.
Mr. Carter walked over, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, dear. Did you eat yet?"
Mrs. Victoria shook her head lightly. "Oh, not yet. I was waiting for both of you."
Mia stretched, suppressing a yawn. "Sorry, but I already ate. I'll head to my room and study."
Mrs. Victoria gave a small nod. "Is that so? Okay then. Good night."
"Good night, both of you," Mia said before retreating to her room.
Mrs. Victoria stood quietly at the foot of the staircase, her hazel eyes following Mia's small frame as she walked up the steps, her schoolbag slung heavy on her shoulder.There was a softness in Victoria's face, but it was tight with worry too — the kind of worry that crept into your bones when you loved someone too damn much.
Poor girl... she's trying so hard to act strong, Victoria thought, pressing her lips into a thin line. But she's just a kid...
The sound of plates clinking snapped her out of it. Clatter! In the dining room, Mr. Alexander Carter was already setting down the utensils with a loud sigh, a visible slump in his shoulders.
Victoria wiped her hands dry on her apron and made her way over, the faint aroma of warm stew trailing behind her from the kitchen. She placed a steaming pot at the center of the table, followed by plates of sautéed vegetables, fried dumplings, and rice, all carefully prepared. The table looked homey, perfect — but the air felt too heavy.
Mr. Carter picked up his chopsticks, his brow furrowed. He gave a soft grunt, not even bothering to hide his exhaustion."She's doin' okay now..." he muttered, poking at his rice like it had personally offended him, "...so don't worry about her."
Victoria slid into the chair across from him, her apron crumpling slightly as she sat. She didn't reply right away. She just stared at the food for a second, her mind still halfway up the stairs with Mia.
Then, her voice broke the small silence, quieter this time. "What about Deny? Did he eat yet?"
Mr. Carter paused. His face twitched — just a tiny flicker, but she caught it."Yeah..." he said after a moment, voice rough, "...he did."
Victoria played with the edge of her napkin, twisting it between her fingers.Her husband's chopsticks hovered mid-air, then lowered with a dull tap against the bowl.
"He's still out, ain't he?" Mr. Carter asked, a tinge of irritation bleeding into his voice.
Silence.
The unspoken answer hung between them like thick smoke.
Tap. Tap. Mr. Carter's fingers drummed on the table, restless. His jaw tensed.
That damn kid, Alexander cursed inwardly. Out screwing around again, no doubt...
He let out a sharp exhale, loud enough that Victoria flinched a little."So he's out foolin' around with his friends again. That brat..." Alexander growled under his breath, "...he's beggin' for a good scolding when he drags his sorry ass back here."
Victoria reached across the table, her soft hand resting gently over his clenched fist. Her touch was featherlight but firm — the kind that said enough now.
"Oh, dear..." she said, her voice all patience and fond exasperation, "...come on. He's just out playing. Let him be a little wild. He's still a boy."
Alexander grunted, shaking his head, but he didn't pull away."He better show up before midnight. Or he's gonna get an earful he ain't gonna forget."
Victoria gave a small laugh, the kind that brightened a room just a little bit — like the first ray of morning sun after a long night."Okay, okay," she said teasingly, squeezing his hand once before letting go."For now..." She smiled, picking up her own chopsticks. "Let's eat."
Mr. Carter huffed again but cracked a small smirk — the kind he only let slip when he knew he was beat.
Clink. The sound of chopsticks against bowls filled the air, small and comforting, as they finally started their quiet dinner under the soft kitchen lights.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Mia sat at her desk, immersed in a math problem, her pencil scratching against the paper. The book in front of her wasn't just any textbook—it was a year ahead of her current grade, filled with complex equations and problems that most students wouldn't touch for another year.
She muttered to herself as she worked through a particularly tough equation. "These problems are a little difficult… but not impossible."
An hour passed. She murmured numbers, solving another equation. "There… perfect." A satisfied smile tugged at her lips. "Another mark added for today."
She stretched, letting out a tired breath before reaching for her drawer to put away her books. As she slid the notebook inside, something blocked it.
"Huh?"
She pushed again. No luck.
Her brow furrowed. "Is there something in here?"
Reaching inside, her fingers brushed against something solid. She gripped it and pulled it out.
A box.
Her eyes widened slightly as she held it up. The moment she saw it, a chill ran down her spine.
"This… box…"
Memories surged forward like a tidal wave. Her breath hitched.
She swallowed hard before, with hesitant fingers, she opened it.
Inside lay her old video camera, shattered into pieces.
Her hands trembled as she stared at the wreckage. Her breathing grew uneven. "I… I thought I forgot about this…"
Her mind replayed that day. The day she lost everything.
She had tried—tried so hard—to find clues, to uncover the truth about that man's death. Even the hospital reports called it an "accident." A blatant lie.
They covered it up.
But she knew.
Because she saw it.
She recorded it.
And then, they destroyed the only proof she had—along with her camera.
Her fingers clenched into a fist. "I couldn't protect it… I couldn't… do anything…"
Her breathing turned ragged. Fear wrapped around her heart like a cold chain.
Those people… they'll—
"No."
She shut her eyes tight, forcing herself to breathe. Deep inhales. Slow exhales.
Gasp… gasp…
After a few moments, she finally managed to calm herself. She exhaled shakily, pressing the box shut and stuffing it back inside the drawer as if shoving away the haunting thoughts along with it.
She sat still for a moment, staring at the floor, her mind buzzing with thoughts of fear, helplessness, and disappointment.
She couldn't get justice.
Not for the man who saved her life.
Not for herself.
The weight of it all pressed down on her shoulders.
Pushing herself up, she shuffled to her bed, grabbing the bottle of sleeping pills on her nightstand. She took one, swallowing it dry, and lay down.
Her eyelids felt heavy.
Before sleep claimed her, she whispered, "Sorry… sorry… sooorry…"
Her breath evened out, and she fell into unconsciousness.
The camera was broken. The truth was lost.
Or so she thought.
The front door creaked open with a long, suspicious creeaaaaak that echoed through the quiet house like a siren.
Slow, careful footsteps padded across the wooden hallway floor.
A boy, messy rose gold hair sticking out in every direction, shuffled inside like a damn burglar in his own home. His New Star Academy jacket was slung over his shoulder, half dragging along the ground, and his sneakers barely touched the floor as he tiptoed.
This was Deny Carter.Second-year student at New Star Academy. Resident troublemaker, part-time smooth-talker, full-time walking disaster.
Deny paused, standing dead still as his ears picked up the low murmur of voices from the dining room. His heart hammered inside his chest, loud enough he was scared it might give him away.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Alright, Deny. Just get to the stairs. Nice and easy. Slow and steady wins the damn race. Like a ninja. Like a goddamn shadow—" he coached himself silently.
One foot moved forward.
Another.
Almost there—
SCRRRRRAAAPE!
A chair scraped sharply against the floor, and Deny flinched like he'd been shot.
Mr. Carter's voice exploded through the house."DENY!!"
Deny froze mid-step, arms awkwardly half-raised like he was surrendering to a cop."Sht. Abort mission. Abort!!"*Slowly, painfully, he turned his head.
Standing there in the dining room doorway was his dad.Arms crossed.Eyebrows knitted into a scary-ass frown.That classic you're-dead-kiddo look all parents had perfected.
"Uh... hey, Dad," Deny said, flashing his best, brightest, most innocent smile.The one that had gotten him out of trouble a million times before. (Hopefully.)
Mr. Carter wasn't having any of it."Don't 'hey, Dad' me!" he barked, stomping toward him like a pissed-off bear. "What time do you think it is, huh?! Midnight?!"
Deny scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. "It's only, like, eleven-thirty...? Ish?"
Wrong answer.
Mr. Carter's veins popped on his forehead. "ELEVEN-THIRTY? On a school night?!"
Deny backed up a step, hands raised like he was negotiating for his life."Hey, hey, chill! I was just... y'know... studying! Group project! School stuff!"
Mrs. Victoria appeared behind Mr. Carter, a dish towel in her hand, wearing a concerned smile.
"You expect me to believe that crap?!" Mr. Carter snapped. "Studying? You reek of cheap fries and bad decisions!"
Deny winced, sniffing his jacket.Damn. Busted.
Mrs. Victoria gently placed a hand on Mr. Carter's shoulder. "Dear, maybe let him explain first..."
Mr. Carter grunted, still glaring daggers at his son. "Fine. Explain. This better be good."
Deny gulped, tossing ideas around in his brain like a bad improv actor on stage.
"Uh... see... what happened was..." he started, buying time, "after studying, we, uh, rewarded ourselves with a snack run. Y'know, positive reinforcement for hard work and all that."
Mr. Carter stared at him like he was two seconds away from spontaneous combustion.
Deny flashed another grin. "You always said hard work deserves rewards, right?"
Mrs. Victoria pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh.
Mr. Carter pointed a thick finger at him. "Don't twist my words, you little—!"
Deny Carter, master bullshtter, level 99.*
"Okay, okay!" Deny said, hands still raised. "I'm home now! Safe! Not dead! That's gotta count for somethin', right?"
"Safe?!" Mr. Carter roared. "You think sneaking in like a damn thief at this hour is being safe?! What if somethin' happened to you out there?!"
Mrs. Victoria's smile faded a little, worry flickering in her eyes.
Deny's cocky grin faltered.
"Sorry, Mom," he said genuinely, glancing at her. Then he mumbled toward his dad, "And you too, I guess."
Mr. Carter huffed, crossing his arms tighter. "You guess?!"
Mrs. Victoria stepped in quickly, trying to diffuse the ticking time bomb that was her husband. "Dear, come on. He's home now. Let's not turn this into another shouting match, okay?"
Mr. Carter grumbled something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like 'spoiled brat gonna be the death of me'—but finally backed off a little.
Deny let out a slow breath.Holy hell, I survived.
"For now," Mr. Carter said, leveling a finger at him, "you're on thin ice, boy. One more stunt like this, and I'll ground your ass so hard you'll forget what sunlight looks like."
"Got it, loud and clear!" Deny said, throwing him a double thumbs-up. "Ice thin. No sunlight. Very bad. Understood."
Mrs. Victoria chuckled lightly and shook her head. "Go to bed, Deny. You've got school tomorrow."
"Right! Right away!" Deny said, already backing toward the stairs. "Speed of light, mom. Zoom!"
As he bolted up the steps, Mr. Carter shouted after him, "And don't think I won't be checkin' your homework tomorrow, you little punk!"
Deny disappeared around the corner, his voice floating back: "Love you too, Dad!"
Mr. Carter sighed heavily, collapsing back into his chair. "That kid's gonna drive me into an early grave."
Mrs. Victoria just smiled, clearing the table calmly. "He'll be fine. Just a little wild right now."
"A little?!" Mr. Carter muttered. "That's like callin' a hurricane 'a light breeze.'"
From upstairs came the sound of a door slamming shut and loud, muffled music starting to play.
Mr. Carter glared up at the ceiling. "I swear to God—"
Mrs. Victoria patted his hand gently. "Eat your dinner before it gets cold, dear."
He grumbled but picked up his chopsticks anyway. "One day... one damn day... that boy's antics are gonna turn my hair grey."
Mrs. Victoria smiled warmly. "Good thing you look handsome in grey."
Mr. Carter paused, then chuckled, finally relaxing a little. "Yeah, yeah. Flatter me now, while I still got hair left."
Down the hall, Deny threw himself onto his bed with a triumphant grin.
"Mission success," he whispered, pulling his blanket over his head like a victorious knight.Tomorrow was a new day—and probably a new lecture—but for tonight, he was safe.
Mostly.
The screen blacked out.
We return to Mia's room. Mia is asleep, the soft hum of her computer filling the quiet.Behind the PC, a flash drive is plugged in — silent, unnoticed. Something inside it is waiting to be revealed... Something that will soon change the lives of Mia, Ethan, and many others.
TO BE CONTINUED....