"Do you know who that is?"
Simon looked at it again. He took his time. "No. I don't recognize him." Then the words came out on his own.
"Paul's uncle."
"Paul's uncle," Philip confirmed. He folded his hands on the desk. "What I'm about to tell you stays with you. Understood?"
"Yes."
Philip didn't rush into it. "His name is Show Vaxlar. Younger brother of Samuel Vaxlar. The two of them built a distribution company together from the ground up. Equal partners, equal say, everything split down the middle. That held for years."
"Then in 2012 the company took a severe loss. They were close to going under. Samuel pulled them out of it — mid 2013, he closed a deal with an overseas company that stabilized everything. After that, the business started to grow. Samuel knew how to run it and he did."
"Show started paying attention to the details. The ownership structure had shifted. His fifty percent had been trimmed to ten. The remaining forty had been redistributed to names he didn't recognize. He went to Samuel. It didn't go well."
Philip leaned forward, his voice getting lower.
"Show went looking for help. He talked to some people outside the company. He told them he wanted back what was his. They suggested a few options to him."
"Kill his brother." Simon muttered.
"Show killed all of them," Philip said. "He hired two men and had the entire Vaxlar household murdered. Samuel was stabbed. His wife, Aisha, was shot. The eldest son, Mickey, was shot and stabbed."
"But Paul?"
"When cops arrived they found Paul. Soaked in blood, still breathing, no explanation in any record for how."
Simon was quiet for a moment. "And Show?"
"Gone. Records show he left the island and never returned. No trail worth following." Philip's voice softened, "Paul was hospitalized for two weeks. No relatives came. No next of kin made contact."
"So the High Table took him in."
"That's what we do."
Simon nodded slowly, his mind moving through it. He knew Philip was giving him the clean version. The version that accounted for the facts without accounting for everything between them. "Paul's file is restricted. Standard workers can't pull it. Why?"
"That has to do with the facility."
Simon didn't push it. He looked at the sketch one more time. "Does Alex know about any of this?"
"The family. Yes. He asked the moment Paul joined." Philip held his gaze.
"So he knew," Simon said quietly. He wasn't surprised Alex knew.
"Pull Paul's facility report," Philip said. "I'll authorize it. Read it yourself before you decide how to approach him. I think you'll find it useful."
"Yes, sir."
Philip unfolded his hands and looked back at the desk. The conversation was over.
Simon rose from the chair and turned to the exit. He knew Philip had said what could be shared, there could be more, but he wasn't in the place to ask for more.
He closed the door and walked towards the elevator.
Facility report.
Simon had no clue what could be in there, but the weight of words Philip implied that this report held secrets of Paul only few individuals can access. Simon was chosen.
Not because he was capable. It was because Philip knew Simon would reach the outcome High table desires.
Simon watched his reflection against the stainless-steel of the elevator as it went down. His eyes were focused, but shoulders slumped.
He needed to reach Paul before that report. To see where the boy stood, without those agency's filters.
Simon took out his phone and called. The line rang until it went to voicemail. He tried again. Still no answer.
Simon stared at the blank screen. Paul was closing himself, drifting into the space where no one could find him.
He switched contacts and dialed Sara. She answered after the fourth ring.
"It's me." Her voice sounded exhausted.
"Did you talk to Paul?"
She answered after a pause. "Not yet."
"I need to meet him."
"Then call him."
"I did. He isn't answering."
Sara replied after a long silence. "...What do you want me to say?"
"Whatever makes him come."
"I'm not lying to him."
"I didn't ask you to." Simon said calmly. "Just tell him you need to talk. That's enough."
…
"I'll be there in 15 minutes." The call ended before Paul finished speaking.
He put the phone down.
Sara wants to talk. Personally. Come to the office.
Paul knew it wasn't her. She didn't sound that detached and flat. Every word spoken from her lips held emotions.
It was Simon, Paul knew. He used Sara as the hook to lure him.
"What does he want? Uncle?"
Paul thought about Saturday's deal. The suppliers would be there. Everything was moving in the perfect direction, but now his own team was tugging him back.
Keeping his silence and turning a blind eye was an option he wished to take, but it would make things only complicated. Simon would likely get suspicious of him. Paul would rather avoid that.
He looked at the white ceiling, his mind tracing back to the interrogation night. It was the last time he had seen her.
Paul remembered the slight tremor in her hands. She didn't say anything to him that time. Her eyes looked at him, like she was looking at a stranger. A ticking clock, whose gears were about to snap.
"I have to see her." Paul whispered.
The glass doors of the Agency slid open. Paul stepped inside, glancing at the workers before entering the elevator.
Fifteen minutes were up. Paul pushed the door open. Inside Simon sat alone on the sofa.
Paul sat across Simon. He glanced at the door before saying. "What do you want to talk about?"
Simon watched him for a moment. The kid seemed calm and collected. No hesitation in his voice. No frustration that Simon used Sara. That concerned Simon.
"I heard the exams were over. How'd they go?"
"Good."
"What about Varsha? How's she doing?"
"Fine."
"Why didn't you answer my call first?"
"I was in the shower. I was about to call you back, then Sara called. I knew it was you."
"About your uncle—"
"I don't wanna talk about it," Paul interjected. "I'm doing fine without it."
Simon frowned. "Why?"
"I lost interest."
"Paul," Simon said firmly.
"I know I can't find him even if I wanted to. He's been gone for ten years. Boss also said, this was it. Of course, I'm not thrilled about it, but I can't go against the people who raised me. I understand the consequences real well. Because of me, everyone's facing problems they don't deserve. I don't want that. I don't want anyone to suffer because of me."
Paul looked up at Simon. "I saw clearly what'll happen if I kept going. I know I won't forget, but I don't want to chase ghosts anymore."
"Are you sure?" Simon asked. He hadn't expected this from Paul, but the kid had to grow up sometime.
"I don't know. But I'll try."
Simon didn't feel relieved at Paul's words. He tried to press it, to see if Paul was really changing. "Boss shared some details about your uncle, Show Vaxlar."
Paul blinked. "I don't want to hear it."
"So Alex didn't tell him," Simon thought to himself. If Alex didn't, he should also keep it to himself. No point in pushing further.
"How about you come in if you're that interested?" Paul said as he eyed the shadows beneath the door.
"Who is it?" Simon snapped back to reality.
"I'm gonna check it out myself." Paul stood up and walked toward the door. "I guess we're done here."
Paul didn't wait for a response and swung the door wide open. His gaze quickly found the figure walking towards the elevator.
He sprinted, brushing past people who stepped aside at the last second. Then, he saw the figure entering the elevator.
"Wait!" Paul screamed inwardly. As the door was about to close, he lunged inside. The door closed.
He caught his breath and looked up. "I don't like playing hide and seek."
She leaned back against the wall, not replying.
"Why are you doing this to me, Sara?"
"I'm not doing anything to you," she replied flatly.
Paul stepped closer. "Why didn't you answer my calls? You said you wanted to talk, but you're leaving without doing so."
"You knew it was Simon."
"I didn't. I really thought it was you."
"I'm sorry then. I don't have anything to talk about."
"But I do."
"I don't want to listen."
"Then why were you at the door?"
"I was passing by."
"Is this because of that interrogation?"
"I'm not interested in a kid's story."
"And I'm not interested in my uncle."
Sara finally looked at Paul.
Paul continued, "I'm done with that case. Simon and I discussed everything. I know this whole thing has caused problems for everyone, and it's all my fault. But I'm done chasing ghosts. Things can finally go back to normal now."
"Whatever," Sara scoffed.
Paul smiled faintly. "You're not very good at this, you know?"
He reached for her hands, lifting them slowly. She watched him, not asking what he was doing. Paul then used her hands to slap himself.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sara snapped, pulling her hands away.
"See? I'm still the same Paul Vaxlar you've known for two years. The guy you saw in that interrogation room wasn't the real me."
"And why do I care about that?"
"Because I know you were looking at someone different back then. You looked at me like you were seeing me for the first time, like when I first joined."
"I didn't."
"If you still don't believe me..."
Paul reached down, pulled out his knife, and wrapped her fingers around the handle. Her hands trembled. Paul steadied them and brought them close to his neck.
"Just end it here. I can't stand the thought of you seeing me that way anymore. I don't want you to look at me like a stranger."
The blade inched closer. Sara's breaths grew ragged, her eyes locked on the tip as it neared his neck.
"I know you," Sara whispered. The blade stopped.
"I know who you are."
She snatched the knife back and pulled him into a tight hug. Her heartbeat, finally finding its rhythm, began to slow.
"See? That wasn't so hard."
"I swear, I'm going to kill you someday."
The elevator doors started to open. Paul tried to pull away, but Sara held tight, refusing to let him go. It was as if she feared he'd disappear if she did.
"Oi! Oi! This ain't no romance movie. What the hell are you two doing?"
Sara looked up.
Julian?