"Here are the files you requested, Lieutenant Commander," said an officer as he stepped into Davin's office, placing a thick folder on the desk.
Davin immediately turned his attention to the files. He flipped through the profiles one by one—information on people working at Cindy's company, and those involved in her personal life. Everything seemed ordinary, unremarkable, until a photograph caught his eye: a young woman with curly hair and spectacles.
Recognition hit him instantly. It was the girl who had collided with him at the orphanage just days ago.
"Why is there no data on her?" Davin asked the officer, his brow furrowed.
"I couldn't find any records, sir," the officer replied. "I asked around the company, and some employees said she's new—just started as a personal assistant. No one seems to know her personally."
"Nothing at all? No personal information?" Davin asked, his gaze fixed on the photograph.
"None, sir. Would you like me to investigate further—?"
"No. There's no need," Davin interrupted, placing the photograph on his desk. "Thank you, officer. You may return to your post."
"Yes, sir!" the officer saluted and left the room.
Davin stared at the photo, thoughts racing. "Strange… no personal information, and yet she's wearing that necklace." He rose from his chair and walked to the whiteboard.
Flipping it over, he revealed the chart he had painstakingly drawn: from the King of Valenor, to his sons, to Cynthia herself. It was a detailed map of connections, designed to track progress in his investigation. Carefully, he pinned the girl's photograph next to the picture of the necklace, placing a bold question mark beside it.
And then his mind lingered on her—Eden. There was something about the way she carried herself, even in that brief encounter at the orphanage, that tugged at his instincts.
She was too composed, too precise, and yet there was a softness in her expression that didn't belong to someone entirely ordinary. The necklace only deepened the puzzle: why would a girl with no recorded history be wearing a piece that seemed so significant? Something about her screamed of secrets carefully hidden—and Davin was more determined than ever to uncover them.
Davin had been quietly tracking the girl for days. He often lingered near the entrances of Cindy's company, observing her routines. Whenever he saw her, she was almost always accompanied by Paula. Among all the PAs close to Cindy and Paula, this one—Eden—stood out. At shooting locations, she traveled in the same van as Cindy, received careful guidance, and was constantly watched over. The attention she got far exceeded that of any ordinary employee.
It was no surprise, then, that chaos would find her sooner or later.
"Are you stupid?!" Nancy's voice pierced the air as Eden stumbled, sending trays of food flying across the floor. "I don't know where Paula found you, but you're a walking disaster! Nothing you do is right. What now? Are you going to starve the staff and cast? 'Stupid' is even too kind a word for you!"
"Tommy!" she bellowed, hurling money at a young man who came running toward them. "Go buy more food, and make sure I never see this girl again! Infuriating!" The boy glanced at Eden, said nothing, and left, refusing even to help her to her feet.
"Aw…" Eden groaned, clutching her scraped knees. Her elbow, too, bore the marks of her fall. She scanned the mess of food on the floor and the blood trickling from her wounds.
"What a klutz," she muttered under her breath, pushing herself upright.
A deep voice interrupted her self-reproach. "Can you stand?"
Eden looked up. A young man stood before her, his hand extended, his shoes immaculate, his presence calm and commanding. She froze, recognition flickering across her features.
"Here, let me help you." The young man stepped forward, guiding Eden as she tried to rise. She didn't take his hand, so he adjusted instinctively, supporting her by her arm and waist until she steadied herself.
Davin's eyes swept over the scattered trays and food. He understood immediately why she had fallen—she had been carrying boxes far too heavy for a single person. And yet, instead of receiving help, all she got was Nancy's harsh reprimand.
"You shouldn't let anyone yell at you like that," the young man said gently, his gaze steady on her.
Eden offered a small, almost sardonic shrug. "I guess that's normal if you're just an employee," she muttered, walking toward the fallen food, intending to gather it.
But as she bent down, her wounded knee throbbed sharply, sending a jolt up her leg. She stumbled, teetering dangerously forward. Instinctively, he was there—his hands catching hers on her arm and waist, preventing her from hitting the ground.
Eden froze, her wide eyes meeting his. This was the second time they'd been so close, and the moment lingered far longer than either expected.
"I'm fine," Eden said, attempting to stand on her own. She pulled away from his grasp, wincing as she carefully planted weight on the knee that still throbbed from her earlier fall.
"The way I see it, you're not fine," the young man said calmly, his eyes scanning her injuries. Eden's gaze flicked up at him, confused. What was he doing here? Of all the people who could have seen her stumble, why did it have to be him?
"I'm okay. Thank you for your concern," she murmured, stepping toward the scattered boxes. She didn't notice a small stone on the ground. As she shifted her weight onto the wounded leg, a sharp pang shot through her knee, and she stumbled once again.
Before she could hit the ground, he was there, catching her arm. His steady hands prevented her from falling.
"You should stay still," he said, guiding her silently as he led her toward the tent. Eden's eyes widened in surprise, and she mumbled shyly, "Please… put me down. I can—" Her words trailed off as she tried, half-embarrassed, to hide her face.