"Ms. Kassandreau, have you reviewed the EXIS program progress?" Dr. Kael Throne, Head of Program EXIS, made his first attempt to speak across the boardroom.
Kassan glanced at him briefly, placing him in her memory. "I haven't yet. I'm looking into it, Dr. Throne." she said, hands curled around the water bottle on the table.
"Can I hear the Talent department verdict from Ngawang Sy Thanapontharawiset?" She announced evenly, eyes fixed entirely on her wife sitting straight across from her. The silence grew taller. Directors and project holders began to sense something between them.
"Out of four thousand debut applicants, we selected four hundred and fifty candidates. Currently, one hundred have been successfully assigned to the EXIS program.
The remaining three hundred and fifty have been processed into AI classes." Sy replied steadily, submitting the reports for the hundred students.
They passed through the hands of directors from different departments.
The doors opened. All eyes moved to the entrance. Mrs. Dupen-Lee walked in — scarlet dress falling elegantly, maroon sandals, reddish-brown handbag on her right arm. She removed her hat as she entered, and the room rose for her. Everyone except her own daughter.
"Good morning, Mrs. Dupen-Lee."
She smiled — brief, measured. "Please, sit."
She moved through the room, keeping her gaze level with her daughter's. "At least smile at me, sweetheart." she murmured, pressing a kiss to Kassan's cheek.
"I don't do things I'm not interested in." Kassan replied, wiping her cheek with a handkerchief. Her mother smiled and took the seat beside her, not sparing a glance at her daughter-in-law. Sy quietly gripped the hem of her skirt, pressing her anger flat.
"Please pass your documents and observation verdicts to Mrs. Exia Dupen-Lee." Kassan stood, straightening the buttons of her blazer. She caught Sy's eye and gave a small gesture. "I'll take my leave. Salut." She walked out of the boardroom.
As she always did — never stayed until the end. Neither, it turned out, did Ngawang Sy. "I was planning to stay until the final decisions." Sy said quietly, falling into step beside her. Kassan glanced sideways and gave a short nod.
"Oh, Ms. Kassan — you look wonderful today." An employee from the neurology department appeared at her shoulder, hand brushing lightly across it. Kassan chuckled, unbothered. "That must be obvious from where you're standing, Sarah."
"Maybe — but I think it's your face doing most of the work, Ms. Kassan."
"Enough, Sarah." Kassan turned cool — then winked when Sarah's expression went stiff, and Sarah burst out laughing. "And I love 'Ms. Kassan.' It suits me."
"I'm one of a kind." They laughed together — not loud, but warm, dissolving softly into the air.
Sy watched them from behind. Quietly. Something in her didn't sit right. Her grip on the door handle tightened. "Has she ever smiled like that at home?" she murmured, and went back inside.
•••
Kassan grinned at James, waving vigorously. He jogged over immediately. "Oho — what's got you this happy? Did you sort things out with Ms. Ngawang?" He beamed, brows raised in excitement.
"Does every conversation have to be about her?" Kassan killed his enthusiasm without hesitation.
"Ouch. When are you going to talk to her?" James asked. "Not for at least two days." she said. "What is this 'two day theory', Ms. Kassandreau? Why not just open up and sort it out?" "Shut up, James." she said firmly, climbing into the car.
"Drive me the long way — fourth route. I want to get home late and tired." James glanced at her in the rearview mirror.
"Are you really alright?"
"Yes. Now drive."
"Aren't we waiting for Ms. Ngawang?"
"Not today, James Boy."
"Please don't call me that, Ms. Kassandreau."
"Then drive instead of questioning me."
That route always gave her something different. A breeze moving through her hair.
Her gaze gradually opening to a view she hadn't seen in too long. Before she could even name the feeling, she was already grounded somewhere quiet and familiar.
James stopped the car beside a lavender garden with a small, unhurried florist's shop she knew well. Her heart skipped. It had been a long while. James opened the door and she stepped out, holding onto his palm — firm but warm.
"You missed her?" James murmured. "Not much. But yes." she replied. A grin settled across her lips, and a blush she hadn't planned.
"Hey... Grandma." Kassan called out, tip-toeing across the wooden floor. The scent of lavender still filled the room. Her eyes stopped, as they always did, at the wedding photo above the fireplace.
"I'm already inside — don't scold me later for not knocking, Mamou."
"Brat! How many times have I told you to knock?!" A sharp elderly voice cracked down the wooden corridor. Kassan and James both clamped their hands over their ears, sharing a quiet, guilty laugh.
"Mamou — haven't I warned you about the volume?" Kassan said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.
Her grandmother looked up, pushing her glasses down. "You — how many times have I told you not to call me that?!"
"I've called you that my whole life — you should've corrected me when I was young."
Kassan said.
"Brat! Your mother completely spoiled you!" Her grandmother pointed a spatula at her. Kassan's smile stretched. "Are you baking a cake, Mamou?"
"Yes — not for you, brat!" Her grandmother's stern voice was as stern as ever. "Oh, come on, Mamou. If not for me, then who?" Kassan said, wrapping her arms around her from behind and dipping her pinky finger into the batter. "Get off me, brat."
"I love vanilla, Mamou — you know me so well!"
"Hey — let go!" Her granny shrieked as Kassan tightened the hug. "Fine, fine. I don't understand why you pretend to hate me so much." Kassan murmured, stepping back.
"James, bring the card in." Kassan ordered. James walked in with a blank cheque. Her grandmother stared at it. Kassan glanced at him. "Card?"
"It's what I found in your bag." James replied. Kassan smirked. "Right." She turned to her grandmother. "Mémé — I'll leave what's needed for the park, but I can't leave it as it is.
I want the branch to expand, and I'll go as far as it takes." She left a cheque for two and a half million euros alongside a blank one.
Her grandmother didn't look up until they had walked out of the kitchen. Her grip tightened around the spatula. She exhaled heavily, staring at the blank cheque.
"Do you think I've done something wrong?" Kassan asked, drinking in the lavender garden slowly. James looked at her. "I genuinely don't know what to say — I've never been that way with my own grandmother." Kassan raised a brow.
"What were you like with her?" she asked. James smiled quietly as the memory found its way back.
"Being with her was its own world.
We used to bake cookies together and play in her little garden. She never said no to toffees or sweets — they were always a treat from her. And whenever I came home, I'd find folded notes of euros tucked into my pockets. I miss her a lot." he said.
Kassan stared at him, caught off guard. For her, it had never been like that. Perhaps Mrs. Dupen-Lee had never thought to give her that kind of experience. Kassan had only ever treated her grandmother as a business arrangement — cheques in place of cookies, negotiations in place of conversations.
James waved a hand in front of her face. "Ms. Kassandreau?" Kassan looked up — and laughed. Wide and sudden. James stared at her. "You know what, James? I understand now just how terribly my mother raised me." She kept laughing. James stood still, her words sinking somewhere deep, like a hand closing around his throat.
The drive home was quiet and hollow. Kassan kept her eyes on the window while James watched her through the rearview mirror. Glances held. Nothing else did.
Thud!
"Aah! Aahh!" Ngawang screamed, pulling at her own hair. Her throat ached from the sound. Her eyes wide, the shock still fresh.
Plates were shattered across the floor. The vase Kassan had brought from London was still in her hands — held high, moments from being smashed — when she saw Kassan standing in the doorway.
"Wha — what are you doing, Ngawang?"
Kassan whispered in amazement, taking in the wreckage. Shattered plates, glasses, scattered cutlery. But her gaze fixed on the vase, suspended in Ngawang's hands. "What is wrong with you? Why are you breaking everything?" Kassan asked.
"Where have you been, Kassan? Do you have any idea how many times I've called you?!"
"What happened? The world isn't ending today, is it?"
"Not the world — ours, Kassan."
"What do you mean?"
"Your mom — oh, excuse me, my mother-in-law — decided to appoint Sarah Ray as your new manager for the crystal concert. What does that make me? What exactly is her problem with me?" Her sarcasm cut through.
Kassan's brows knitted together. "So what's the problem? I don't see a reason to destroy the room over this, Ngawang. If you feel you can't manage my schedule, let someone else step in. You're being irrational, Ngawang Sy." Kassan said, cold and even.
"I'm not the irrational one — your mother is."
"Watch your tongue, Ngawang." Kassan's fingers tightened into a fist. "What — are you going to hit me?" Ngawang said. "She's been managing your concerts for decades. How can she simply dismiss that experience and hand it to some newcomer?!" Ngawang's voice climbed.
The argument coiled around James's nerves. Kassan's control slipped — and James wrapped a hand around her elbow.
"Let go of my hand, James." Kassan said quietly, eyes still on Ngawang. "No. Hold it together." James murmured back.
Ngawang shoved James aside. That was it. Kassan knocked Ngawang's hand away immediately. "Don't take your anger out on him — he has nothing to do with this, Ngawang Sy."
"Kassan — I don't want Sarah Ray as your artist manager. Not under any circumstances."
Ngawang's finger pointed at her, her expression set and unmoving. "If you'd just said that, Ngawang Sy, we could have taken this to Mom and dealt with it properly. You didn't need to do all of this." Kassan said, gesturing at the wreckage.
"Don't tell me what I need." Ngawang turned and went upstairs. Kassan looked to James.
He reached slowly into the car and drew out the lavender bouquet. She exhaled, pressing her fingers to her temple. "If this is what every day looks like — I can't keep doing this, James."
James said nothing. He took the flowers and set them in the vase that wasn't supposed to have survived.
Kassan stared at it. "This will be my last lavender bouquet."
That night was as quiet as every night before it. No one thought of dinner. Kassan and Ngawang slept in separate rooms again.
Neither of them actually slept. Kassan stared at her laptop screen. Ngawang watched the stars through a telescope. Nothing stayed between them. Nothing at all.
•••
Kassan took her seat across from her parents. Her father looked between them, surprised, and smiled gently, reaching for her shoulder.
"Dear — when did you arrive?" He glanced past her. "Where is Sy? You didn't bring her." He said, brow creasing.
Kassan shook her head, easing his hand away. "No — I came to talk business, Pa. I didn't want her involved in this." she replied.
Her eyes stayed on her food. His stayed on her face — reading what wasn't there.
She looked at her mother. Calm. Removed.
"What's the status of the park? Have you settled things with your grandmother?" Mrs. Dupen-Lee asked, sipping her black tea.
Kassan held her gaze for a beat. "Mm." Just that.
Her mother raised a brow, sharp. "Can you not give me a proper answer, Kassandreau?"
Kassan hated that tone. "I think that covers it." she said, voice low and cool.
"Is that how you speak to me, Kassandreau?" her mother said. "Isn't this the way you taught me to treat grandmother? Does it feel different when it's aimed at you?" Kassan replied, stabbing her fork into a tomato.
"What exactly are you implying, Kassandreau?"
"Nothing." she said, and let it go. Her father patted her shoulder, quiet and careful. "What's going on, dear?" She moved his hand away.
"Don't pretend you don't know, Pa. You always understand more than you let on."
"Kassan — this business matters to all of us. Everything you do carries weight. Be honest with us." he said.
"I'm already on your side in business, Pa."
"Then what is it, Kassandreau?"
"My wife." Kassan said. Her father glanced between them as they held each other's gaze. "What?" her mother asked.
"Stop interfering with my life, Exia." Her voice carried no warmth at all. "Kassandreau—!" Her mother stiffened.
"Yes. Stop. You have no right to replace my artist manager. I want my wife to manage everything about me — every single thing."
Kassan said, bringing her fork down against her mother's plate. They stared at her. "Focus on the business — stay out of my personal life. If you don't, I'll walk away from every project you've assigned to me." Her warning landed. She crossed one leg over the other and resumed eating, calm as stone.
Neither parent spoke. "Change it. Change my manager back — now." Kassan said, and sent the fork sailing past her mother's head. Her mother gasped, shaking, eyes wide. With unsteady hands she reached for her phone and dialed.
"Yes, Mrs. Dupen-Lee?" the voice on the other end answered.
"Andrew — I want you to reverse the artist manager change we made for Kassandreau." she said.
"Regarding Sarah Ray?"
"Yes. Reinstate Ngawang Sy as her manager."
"Are you certain, Mrs. Dupen-Lee? Perhaps a re-meeting would be in order. What do you think?"
"No. I don't have time for that. Just do as I say, Andrew."
"Understood, Mrs. Dupen-Lee. I'll issue the announcement."
"Yes." Exia ended the call and looked at her daughter.
"Happy now?" Kassan's triumph came through in her smile.
"Yes, Exia."