I lift my phone to look at the comments. I want to engage with the audience before I end the stream. The screen shows a constant scroll of blue and white bubbles. My eyes scan the text for a question.
A username stands out among the generic comments.
Cinder_99:Doyou remember, Sunflower? I do. I remember the way you ignored my screams to help them out of the dark.
The air leaves my lungs. My vision narrows until the room feels like a tiny point of light. The warm orange glow of the room fades. A memory of heat and black smoke hits me. The phantom smell of burning cedar fills my head.
Sunflower.Nobody knows that name. My mother used it to keep me hidden in the shelter. It was a secret from a place that burned down fifteen years ago.
My cheeks prickle as the blood drain from my face. My hand shakes. The tripod wobbles as Jules reacts to my change in posture. I try to take a breath, but my chest feels tight.
Jules lowers the tripod slightly and frowns. “Zo? What’s wrong?”
Across the room, Reid moves a step closer. His neutral expression changes. His eyes scan my face with an intensity that does not match his light voice. “Miss Zora?”
I look at the screen again. The comment is gone, buried under new messages from people asking about the pillows. But I saw it.
The past just walked right through the digital front door. I spent years assuming that part of my life stayed buried in the shelter’s ash. I force my lips to stay curved in that bright, practiced smile. My heart thrashes against my ribs, but I pull the mask back over my eyes. I cannot let thirty-five thousand people see the terror. I ignore Jules. I wave at the lens, my hand steady.
“Okay, everyone, that wraps up our first look! I have so much more to show you. Look out for the official tour video this Friday, and we will start decorating this new Nest together next Monday. I love you all. Stay safe and stay beautiful!”
I nod to Jules, and she hits the button to end the broadcast. The feed cuts to black.
Jules sets the tripod down on the edge of the velvet platform. She sits next to me. Her neon hair looks even brighter in the warm, sunset-orange glow of the room. She leans in, her shoulder bumping mine. “Zo, you looked like you had seen a ghost. What happened with the chat?”
I keep my gaze on my hands. My fingers still carry a slight tremor. I force my breathing to slow down, dragging air into my lungs until the tightness in my chest eases. I can’t tell her aboutthe comment. Jules is a friend and an employee, but this part of my life belongs in a box buried under fifteen years of grit.
“Just a flicker in the feed. I thought the signal had dropped again, and I panicked. I did not want the first big stream to end on a technical error.”
Jules relaxes her shoulders and lets out a long sigh. “You handled it. The numbers looked incredible. You should check the analytics later.”
For a moment, the room feels small and safe. The silence between us provides a brief shield against the reality of the move and the shadow of that username. The rest of the world, including the massive apartment and the man who brought us here, fades into the background.
Reid clears his throat, the noise cutting through the quiet of the sanctuary. He remains in the hall, his feet planted outside the threshold of the nesting space. He holds a slim, matte black envelope in his hand. His gaze remains fixed on me, his eyes scanning for signs of a deeper spiral. “Moving is a high-stress event for any Omega.” His voice remains in the airy register. He steps forward just enough to place the envelope on the edge of the velvet platform, near the tripod. “The Nest provides several resources to help with the transition. This contains information on a service we offer to all our residents.”
I look at the black paper. No logos or branding mark the surface. “Is this part of the sponsorship?”
Reid nods. “Think of it as a specialized support system. It is called Remote Alpha Aid. It offers encrypted, cam-based sessions with licensed masked Alphas who focus on trauma-informed care and libido management. No physical contact or real names. You stay behind the screen and in total control of the interaction.”
I pick up the envelope. The card inside feels heavy and expensive. “Masked Alphas?”
Reid clasps his hands behind his back. “Total anonymity for the Alphas. They do not want to risk being recognizedin public. You can choose to wear a mask as well, but the Alphas are sworn to a code of confidentiality. You might find having a session useful tonight. You seem... unsettled.”
He lingers for a beat, his eyes tracking the slight tremor in my hands. “I will leave you to settle in, Miss Zora. If you need anything at all, a magnet on the refrigerator contains the direct number for our staff, you can text or call. You can also use the alert on your wrist at any time. We are always available.”
He offers a short, polite bow of his head before turning toward the foyer. His movements remain precise and quiet as he disappears.
Jules watches him go, then checks her watch. “I have to get moving, Zo. I have that date with the pack I mentioned. Are you going to be okay here? It is a lot of space for one person.” She picks up the tripod and detaches the phone to leave it with me.
I stare at the black envelope. “I have a stocked fridge and enough pillows to build a fortress. I will be fine. Go have fun.”
She grins and gives me a quick hug. “Congratulations on your new place. Call me if you need anything.” Jules waves a hand as she disappears into the living room. The sound of the elevator doors closing echoes through the penthouse.
Silence rushes in to fill the void. The apartment feels too large now. The summer sun still beats against the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the city outside into a shimmering, white-hot maze of glass and steel. I walk through the living area, my heels clicking against the stone until the sound becomes annoying. I kick them off and walk barefoot to the kitchen.
I open the fridge and stare at the blackberries. Everything here is perfect.Too perfect. It feels like a stage set designed by someone who knows my measurements and my cravings. I grab a bottle of water and head back to the nesting room.
I sink onto the mattress and pull out my phone. I go straight to the browser and type in the URL from the black card.
