She hasn’t moved. Her eyes are wide, searching my face for a threat, for anger, for love. She looks terrified.
And then I see the child.
Sitting on a crate in the shadows, legs dangling. Blonde curls. A jam stain on her cheek. She’s staring at me with wide, brown eyes. But I smell it. Under the studio grime and the sweetness of her snack.
Ozone. Storm. Me.
My heart stutters.
It takes every ounce of discipline I have not to cross the room and snatch her up. To check her for marks. To claim her.
But Liora’s gaze is pleading. A silent, desperate beg.Don’t.
I look back at Miles. I take the stylus.
“I’ll sign,” I say, my voice rough. “On one condition. No lies in the script. We do it right.”
“Deal!” Miles is practically salivating.
I scrawl my name.Gyon. House Raekor.
“Wrap it up for the day!” Miles yells. “We start fresh tomorrow with the real deal!”
As the crew erupts into chaotic chatter, I walk straight to Liora. She flinches as I approach, then steels herself.
“Trailer,” I say. “Now.”
She nods, stiffly. She grabs the child’s hand—Pepper, I heard someone call her—and leads the way.
The trailer is small, smelling of hairspray and old coffee. Liora shuts the door and locks it. She leans against it, chest heaving. Pepper scrambles onto the small couch and watches us, eyes bouncing back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match.
“You’re alive,” Liora whispers.
“I am.” I pull off my helmet, setting it on the table. “And you’re a movie star.”
“I’m a survivor,” she snaps. “There’s a difference.”
“Is there?” I gesture to the child. “And who is this?”
Liora steps in front of her, shielding her. “This is Pepper. My daughter.”
“Your daughter,” I repeat. I look at the girl over Liora’s shoulder. The image inducer hums faintly at her temple. I know tech when I see it. “She has your chin.”
“Yes,” Liora says quickly. “She does.”
“Does she have a father?”
The air leaves the room. Liora’s knuckles turn white.
“It’s complicated,” she whispers. Her eyes dart to the girl, then back to me. A wall slamming shut.
“Is it?” I step closer. I tower over her, but I keep my hands at my sides. “Because she smells like the Void. Like ozone.”
Liora closes her eyes. “She’s special. That’s all.”
She’s lying. I can smell the deception on her skin, bitter and sharp. But I also smell the fear. She is terrified I will take the girl. Or expose her.
I look at Pepper. She slides off the couch, pushing past Liora’s leg to stand in front of me. She barely comes up to my knee. She cranes her neck to look up.
