Coffee first. The machine sits like a temple, and I worship accordingly. While it brews, I claim a barstool and prop my injured foot on the lower rung. The laptop opens to my calculus portal.
Removing the camellia pendant, I press my fingers against the hidden seam until it clicks open, and connect the USB to my laptop. A new network appears on my screen, secure and anonymous.
This beautiful little thing.
A notification pops up in my private chat window before I can even check the exam schedule.
Phoenix:Morning, stranger. Missed you yesterday.
Me:Had a situation.
Phoenix:"Situation" sounds serious.
Me:Just some personal stuff. Nothing I couldn't handle.
My fingers hover over the keys. Phoenix is the closest thing I have to a friend in the digital underworld, but I've never shared anything real. We keep it professional, discussing coding problems, security puzzles, and occasional debates about encryption algorithms.
Phoenix:Working on anything interesting?
I've been obsessed, digging for information because Anton wouldn't tell me anything. So I went through the people around him instead.
Desperate? Absolutely. Effective? Not remotely. I learned exactly nothing about Anton Baev that mattered. In the end, I learned about him the old-fashioned way—he finally talked.
But Morrison won't leave my head now. Not because of Anton, but because someone tried to kill me, and I want to understand why. I'm not sitting here helpless when I can find my own answers.
Me:Just school. Calc is kicking my ass.
Phoenix:Calc? You crack government-grade encryptions for fun.
The coffee machine beeps. I grab the mug, holding it in both hands to soak up the warmth, then sit back down on the barstool.
Phoenix:Hey, wanted to give you a heads-up. There's a competition coming up—dark web security challenge with a big prize pool. Thought you might be interested.
Me:Maybe. When?
Phoenix:Next month. I'll send details. Could be fun to see how we stack up against each other.
Phoenix:Random question—you ever work with a team? Or are you solo like me?
I stare at the message. We've never asked each other personal questions about our work. That's the unspoken rule: we don't cross that line.
Me:Solo. Why?
Phoenix:Just curious. Some of the challenges are team-based. Was wondering if you had people you work with regularly.
Me:Just getting ready to take my final exam. I should go.
Phoenix:Right, sorry. Didn't mean to pry. Good luck. Don't let the derivatives win.
Me:Thanks.
Phoenix:See ya!
I close the chat window, but the conversation sits wrong in my chest. They've never asked about my work setup, my team, or whether I'm alone. Why start now?
I pull up the exam portal. Two hours until test time, and I can't focus worth a damn. Can't stop thinking about yesterday's bullets and last night's bed and Phoenix's weird questions.
Why does this even matter? I don't need this degree. Dad will hand me whatever I want.
