His only peaceful companion were the runs. He would push himself harder, the ache of failure fade, replaced by muscle pain. He began running longer routes, exploring the edges of the city's rich districts. He would run past towering gates and manicured hedges that hid the estates. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, it was just his mind trying to take him away from his exclusive cage.
On one sunny afternoon, his leg led him to the city's most exclusive park. When he looked ahead, he noticed a commotion, he saw a small film crew, lights, reflectors, and a cluster of parked trailers. As he drew closer to the spot, he saw that they were filming a car commercial. A sleek, silver supercar was positioned on a curve of the road, and a woman was leaning on it and laughing to something the director said.
She was stunning. Beautiful, full and silky dark hair, sharp, elegant features, captivating hazel eyes and an energy that seemed to spread far and wide. She wore a tailored racing suit leaving it unzipped to the waist, revealing a crisp white t-shirt. Cameron stopped walking, using a large ornamental shrub, he hid himself but not fully. He recognized her. Everyone did. She is Anastasia "Anna" Sterling. The movie star, racing goddess, darling of the tabloids and the track.
He watched, as a he starts feeling a strange hollowness in his chest. She carried herself with this flawless and formidable energy that he can't imagine. She was discussing a stunt with the driver, her gestures confident and precise. Then, as the director called for a reset, she turned slightly, letting her gaze sweep across the park.
It passed over him.
For a fraction of a second, then it stopped.
Cameron froze. There was no reason for her to see him, a sweaty teenager in old running clothes half-hidden by shrubs. But her eyes, a striking hazel even from this distance, seemed to pause. A faint, almost noticeable line appeared between her perfectly shaped brows. It wasn't recognition. It was… a flicker of distraction, a minute of shift in her focus.
Cameron felt a jolt, a weird electric pull in his gut, it was so sudden that it made him take a half-step back. It was fear, he told himself. The fear of being noticed by someone so formidable. But it felt different…deeper, older.
Anna Sterling's assistant hurried over, she whispered something to her and handed her a phone. The moment broke. She looked down at the screen, the faint frown smoothing into a mask of professional concentration. She dismissed whatever fleeting feeling she just had, turning back to her world of cameras and supercars.
Cameron didn't wait. He turned and started running again, this time with an urgency he couldn't quit name, he just wants to put a distance between himself and the encounter he just had. His heart hammered against his ribs, not from the run, but from a confused feeling he couldn't name. It felt like yearning and terror put together. It's nothing, he told himself repeatedly. You're imagining things. You saw a celebrity and got scared. But the strange, magnetic pull lingered, not willing to go away.
——————
The summons from Richard Reed came later that evening. Cameron was called into Richard's study, a room that smelled of leather and stale ambition.Victoria was present, a silent statue.
"Crestview," Richard began, clasping his fingers. "The scholarship is… acceptable. It demonstrates a degree of competence we doubted you possessed."
Cameron said nothing, waiting for the catch.
"However," Richard continued, "your continued association with this family requires certain expectations. You will maintain a 3.8 GPA. You will have to secure a summer internship within the Blackwood coperation by the end of your first year. You will not engage in any behavior that could reflect poorly on the Reed name. Your allowance will be provided on a quarterly basis, based on a review of your grades and conduct."
It was a contract, and they are using his future as collateral. But it was also his ticket out.
"And," Victoria added, her voice like chilled glass, "you will be home for all major holidays and family functions. We will not have gossip about this family being divided."
There needs to be attachment before there can be any division, Cameron thought bitterly. But he nodded. "I understand."
"Your mother has arranged for a suitable wardrobe. You cannot arrive looking like a charity case."
The meeting was over. He had won. He walked back to his room, the victory tasting bitter, but it was victory nonetheless. He stood at his window, looking out at the manicured prison grounds. In a few weeks, he would cross that perimeter fence. The thought was terrifying and exciting at the same time.
He needed to prepare. He can't depend on his family for upkeep money. His secret freelance payment has grown to a few hundred dollars. He'll have to use that money, it was his only source of income they didn't know about and couldn't control. He used it to order a sturdy, anonymous-looking backpack, a lock for his future dorm, and a cheap burner phone. He didn't ask for it to be delivered in his house, rather he chose for it to be delivered to a parcel locker at a distant grocery store.
——————
The day of departure was quiet and less dramatic. The Reeds were absent, as expected. The housekeeper loaded his new, expensive suitcase stuffed with his necessities into the car. Cameron clutched his worn backpack which contained, his laptop, the burner phone, the black card, his secret cash, the toddler photo, and now, scribbled on a scrap of paper, the name Willow Creek Children's Foundation.
As the train pulled out of Teron city, moving away from his confined zone into the unknown, Cameron pressed his forehead against the glass. His anxiety changing. The fear of the Reeds was no longer his current problem but the fear of the future and the mystery of the past.
He thought of the strange encounter with Anna Sterling. A coincidence, he thought, it was a trick of the light on his traumatized mind. Yet, it felt like a call from the deep. He was escaping one prison, but he was also stepping into a maze. The train sped north, his mind still playing the question, Who am I, like a broken record. It was an unanswered question that had defined both his lives.
He was free, but he still feels like a maze runner that can't escape the maze.
——————
At that moment, on a soundstage in the city of Avelion, Anna Sterling was between takes. She was scrolling through her phone, the image of the supercar on her screen. But her mind kept going back to that scene during the previous day's shoot…a glimpse of a pale, tense face in the park, eyes too old for the body they were in. It had given her a sudden, peculiar twist in her stomach, a feeling she hadn't had since she was a child, looking at the empty crib in the nursery that was never taken down. She shook her head, irritated at her own sentimentality. 'Stress', she told herself, 'it was just stress'. She has a race in Monaco to prepare for, and a family dinner tonight. She pushed the memory away, trying to focus on the things at hand.