The train ride back to Crestview was a blur, things passing by his eyes but he couldn't see them. His mind wasn't focused to admire the scenery, but was wandering back to the Summit, the moment Alexander made eye contact with him. That moment when everything seems to pause and his heart doing the jumps. Cold sweat came rushing down his spine when he thinks about it. He was curious, now he has seen, but what he saw was far from what he was expecting.
It almost time to pay for the "tuition fee" and he hasn't written anything for the report. That night when everywhere was quiet he started writing his report to submit to Graves. He wrote it in a way that fits a college student, dry, focused only on academics and Alexander Sterling's public performance.
Subject: Summary of my Observation at the Tech Horizon Summit.
The Summit was exceptional and educational for me as a college student and I learnt so many things from attending. Alexander Sterling showed how formidable he is as a CEO with his captivating speech and creative idea. He focused on the development of AI and it's usefulness to the progressing future. His speech was controlled, backed up with advanced data and he didn't shake or stutter. He was stable. There was no stress or pressure from his side. He answered the media questions calmly and professionally.
Overall impression: Alexander Sterling is a born leader in complete control of his public performance.
He sent it to Graves through the secure server. It was a report on Alexander Sterling as a CEO, not as a brother. He didn't write about his experience, the eye contact, the moment or the fear that crawled down his spine. He kept all that to himself.
The reply came one hour later and it was not from Graves. It was from a different encrypted line.
"Your observation is noted. Alexander Sterling showed heightened alertness when leaving the stage. Explain".
Cameron stared at the words. Blackwood. It had to be him. He must have known he's the cause of Alexander's heightened alertness and he has come to know why.
He closed the burner phone, feeling like he'd just created a bigger problem.
——————
In the penthouse of Sterling Global, Alexander Sterling was not reviewing quarterly reports and signing files. He was staring at a series of images on his monitor. The first was a footage of a blurred figure running in a park. The second, clear security image showing a pale, tense young man named Cameron Reed. The third were high-resolution shots of the same young man in the media section with his face so focused, taken by his own security team at the summit.
Three different data points. A feeling from Anna. A suspicious closeness to Aaron Blackwood. And now, a direct observation at his own serminar.
Alexander doesn't believe in the word COINCIDENCE. This looks like a pattern, targeted at his family.
"Benjamin," he said, his brother's image appearing on the screen. Ben was in his office at the base, maps on the wall behind him.
"Xander. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Maybe I have." Alexander shared the three images across the secured line. "Run a full background, make it deep, on Cameron Reed. He's the adopted son of Richard and Victoria Reed and currently a freshman at Crestview on a scholarship. I want to know everything. Birth records, hospital logs, every digital footprint from the Willow Creek Foundation era. I want to know why he went to Aaron Blackwood's office."
Benjamin's eyes, glowed "A threat?" he asked, already prepared for a fight.
"No, an unknown. And unknowns coming near our family are treated as threats until proven otherwise. Especially now." The unspoken word 'the anniversary' hung between them. "Discreetly. Use our resources."
"On it." Benjamin said, his face already changing into mission mode. "I'll have a report in twenty-four hours."
Alexander ended the call. He leaned back, drumming his fingers on his desk. Cameron Reed. The boy was a familiar shadow. The age was right. The timeline was… suggestive. He pulled up the single, constructed public record of the Reed adoption. It was clean. Too clean. Like a story that had been rewritten. A quite hope, a feeling he had tried suppressing for eighteen years. Maybe…just maybe… but he didn't finish the thought, scared it might be just his imagination. A sick trick his mind is trying to play with him
——————
The following Wednesday, Cameron's cryptography professor assigned a project but he have to work with a partner. Cameron's usual plan was to stay quiet and unnoticeable so that everyone in the class will choose a partner and he'll be able to do the project alone. But that won't work this time around because the professor is reading out pairs.
"Cameron Reed and Leah Cho."
He looked up. Leah, from the hallway during that lecture from Blackwood's group, turned from a few rows ahead and gave him a small, encouraging smile. It wasn't the chilling smile of Lucas or the cold, manipulative smile from the Reeds. It was just… friendly. For a moment, the constant tension in his shoulders eased a little.
After class, she waited for him by the door. "Looks like we're cryptobuddies. I heard you're the quiet genius type, so I'm counting on you," she said, her tone light.
"I'm not a genius," Cameron mumbled, falling into step beside her.
"Humble too, I like it." They walked toward the library. "So, the project. I was thinking we could start by breaking down the problem set tonight? I promise I'm not a total lost cause. I brought snacks." She held up a bag each of Pringles and potato chips.
It was so normal. So surprisingly simple. Cameron found himself nodding. "Yeah. Okay."
They found a quite corner to use for study. They worked in silence for the first hour, with Leah occasionally whispering curse at a difficult problem she can't solve. Cameron, who is more than familiar with problems like this found it almost easy. He began explaining the solutions to her, his voice low and hesitant at first, then he gained more confidence seeing her actually listening to what he's saying.
"Ohhh," she said finally, a grin spreading across her face. "So it's like picking a digital lock, but jiggling it based on the frequency of the letters?"
"Basically," he said, and a faint, real smile touched his own lips. It felt strange on his face.
They took a break, sharing the Pringles. "So, where are you from?" Leah asked casually.
The innocent question was throwing a grenade into an anthill. Cameron's triggered, putting back on his loosed guard. "The city. South side." It was a lie.
"Cool. I'm from across the state. Small town. My biggest excitement was the annual corn festival." She rolled her eyes happily. "This place is… a lot. Do you like it? Here at Crestview, I mean."
Cameron looked down at the library table. Did he like it? It was freedom. It was terror. It was a battlefield. "It's… quiet," he finally said, which was the truest thing he could manage.
Leah seemed to sense the minefield she'd unintentionally triggered. Changing topics she said "Well, it's definitely quieter than my roommate's obsession with K-pop. I now know more Korean than I ever would've thought of."
The conversation moved to safe, normal, everyday topics like, terrible dorm food, professors attitude, the best place to print cheaply. For two hours, Cameron was just himself, a student working on a project with a kind normal person.
As they packed up, Leah said, "Hey, we make a good team. We should do this again, Thursday. Let's tackle the next part before the weekend."
Cameron nodded. "Yeah. That works."
"Cool. See you then, partner." She gave him another wave and headed off, humming a tune under her breath.
Cameron stood for a moment in the quiet library, the feeling of sharing snacks with a friend still lingering. It was a small connection, thinner than a thread and fragile as well, but it was real.
He walked back to his dorm, the autumn night cool on his face. For the first time, the silence felt less weighty and more like… peace. He had a project to finish, a study partner, a terrifying confrontation with a powerful family that might be his own and he had experience what it's like to not be entirely alone for a few hours.