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Adrian Scott walked down the crowded hallway of Lightheartened high, his backpack slung casually over one shoulder. He exchanged brief hellos with classmates, laughed at a joke a friend made about the upcoming soccer match, and grabbed a bottled water from his locker with a practiced ease that screamed _normal high school guy_.
But as he turned a corner, away from curious eyes, Adrian's expression shifted. His eyes narrowed slightly, his steps became more deliberate, and for a fleeting moment, the mask of a typical teenager slipped – revealing a calculating gaze.
_Christine Edmond_, he thought, replaying their tense talk. Her refusal to bow, the spark in her eyes when she pushed back… Adrian's lips curved into a mix of amusement and intrigue. _She's a player_, he decided. _Not like others_.
Adrian pulled out his phone, unlocked it with a swift touch, and typed a message to an encrypted contact linked to The Peros: "Subject Edmond. Refusal noted. Alternatives being weighed."
The phone buzzed almost instantly with a response. Adrian's eyes flicked to the reply, his expression unreadable for a moment before he tucked the phone away. _Business as usual_.
He rejoined the flow of students, smiling blandly as he was pulled into a group discussion about prom themes. "_…totally into the masquerade idea_", he said, fitting words to the casual vibe.
Yet internally, Adrian was elsewhere – strategizing The Peros' next angle regarding Christine, considering power plays and outcomes like pieces on a board he controlled.
- - -
"In conclusion, Lizzy wasn't killed, Piper wasn't missing, but was cruising in a beach house under the Scott family name." Christine reclined on the sofa, letting out a languid stretch. She dropped the book she'd been reading, pages filled with her scribbled notes and thoughts about the tangled events swirling around her. It was weekend – what better way to spend it than lounging on the couch, lost in introspection? Yet she had spent the entire day sorting through her speculations, hitting repetitive dead ends. She couldn't help but wonder intensely what was going through Adrian Scott's head.
First, why had Adrian spread rumors about Lizzy's death? Was it a calculated ruse to lure her out into the open? Why orchestrate stealing information in such a convoluted, hard-to-navigate way? And another factor nagged at her – how had Ricky and his cohorts known _exactly_ what they were after? Was it some sort of test Adrian was running? Why create these looping events apparently targeting a singular, still-obscure goal? _What was he trying to do?_
She ran her hands through her hair, a reflexive attempt to soothe herself as the information swamped her. She needed more time, more resources… _Resources?_ She grabbed a strand of her golden hair now, rolling it absently between her fingers. In a sudden flash, she recalled vividly what had transpired between her and Adrian the other day – the jet-black wig he'd pulled off, his comment on her beauty with golden hair showing. _Maybe having golden hair isn't that bad_, a stray thought lingered, mixed with unease.
"Aaahhh!" She yelled abruptly, frustration cracking through her controlled exterior. "Naze? (Why?)"
"Naze?" a male voice intruded suddenly.
Her head snapped up. The front door was closing; she hadn't been paying attention. Her parents were back, looking wearied. They'd been very busy lately, handling their work with what seemed like tediousness etched on their faces. Christine turned to look at her mom – nasty eye bags shadowed those sea blue eyes.
"Welcome back!" Christine spoke, trying to inject normalcy into her tone. But the air around her felt dark, way different from the introspective buzz when she'd been brainstorming alone.
Her mom turned to look at her, eyes showing a glint Christine couldn't quite decipher – _malice?_ – before her mother nodded curtly, "Mm," and walked down the hallway.
"She's been stressed out lately, don't bother yourself, I'll talk to her," Mr. Edmond whispered towards Christine, as he rushed to follow his wife.
_It's been that way for some time now_, Christine thought, watching her parents' interaction. Her mom had looked at her distinctly – she felt something was wrong, and she was at the wrong place. Mrs. Edmond had always had a range of expressions – sometimes mistaken by others as too serious – but family knew the nuances. Up until a few weeks ago, her mom's look had been normal; now she seemed _off_, like she was trying to hold onto something precious with tight-fisted anxiety.
"I made dinner," Christine informed, her voice landing somewhat flatly as she dropped back onto the sofa. She picked up her phone, scrolling idly through notifications and messages until something caught her eye – something rather interesting. A slow smile curved her lips; the glint in her eyes began shaping into something dangerous.
- - -
"Evan, I'm heading out," Mr.Chris announced, shrugging into his leather coat.
"I might be late, make sure to eat dinner." He turned to look at Evan, whose eyes were glued to his phone screen.
"I almost forgot, congratulations on solving that case. Mr. Dio was quite happy to see his daughter." still no engagement.
"Alright, tell Charlie and Christine I said hi." With that, he left; his car engine growled alive, escaping into the street's evening sounds.
"He's gone," Evan whispered. He tossed his phone aside carelessly as he made his way towards his father's room. The door refused to budge when he tried it; he bulged against it unsuccessfully. "Damn that old man," Evan cussed under his breath, eyes scanning the locked door. He pulled out a hairpin, deftly working on picking the lock.
_'Clack!'_
The door opened. Evan slipped inside swiftly, beginning a silent search through books and documents arranged meticulously on the shelves. His fingers brushed through well-organized folders until they landed on a black one.
"Yes!!" Evan whispered triumphantly, opening the folder to read through its contents. "It's not much information, though… Why would anyone want this?" Evan viewed the contents with mingled disgust. "I can't wait to get over with this," he muttered, turning to exit, closing the info-filled room behind him.