As we were leaving, the nice elder gave us a few more cookies in a see-through box. Sa'ha clutched hers with a small smile, and Adam started the car. The streets were quiet, the air crisp, and the faint aroma of freshly baked cookies lingered in the vehicle. Sunlight filtered through the trees, dappling the dashboard in patches of gold, and for a moment, everything felt calm.
Adam glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "There's something I should tell you," he said.
Sa'ha blinked, processing. "Sasha Liadon?"
"Yes," Adam said. "It's your official name now—for all human paperwork. More Americanized. Easier for everyone in the human world. But it's still you. Your heritage, everything about you—that hasn't changed."
Sa'ha chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "Sasha… It feels strange, but also… kind of right. Less complicated, maybe."
Adam chuckled softly. "That's the idea. Just remember, no matter what the papers say, you're still Sa'ha at heart. But the world will know you as Sasha for now."
She nodded, staring out the window at the passing trees, letting the new name settle in her mind. "Sasha Liadon," she whispered, testing it. "I think I can get used to that."
Adam gave a short nod. "Good. That's the goal. And don't worry—if anyone questions you or the name, you've got me backing you."
Sa'ha turned to look at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Thanks… Adam. It's strange, feeling like I have to be someone new and still be me at the same time."
He glanced ahead at the road, then at her. "It's not about being someone new. It's about giving you a way to move through this world safely. The real you isn't on the paperwork—it's in your choices, your actions, how you handle what comes next."
Sa'ha nodded again, more firmly this time, and opened the cookie box, offering one to Adam. "Want one?"
Adam shook his head with a smile. "No thanks. You've earned them all."
For the next few minutes, the car rode in quiet comfort. Sa'ha held the box of cookies in her lap, occasionally nibbling one, while Adam drove steadily, letting the weight of the news—and the reality of the name change—sink in.
⸻
Once inside his house, Eugene's thoughts raced. The moment they pulled out of his driveway, he bolted for the stairs, ignoring his granny's cautionary voice warning him about running with his heart condition. His feet pounded the steps two at a time, each thump echoing through the quiet house. By the time he reached the top, his chest was tight, and his breath came in short, ragged gasps.
He leaned against the wall for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to steady himself. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his heart thudded erratically in his chest. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his inhaler, pressing it to his lips and taking a slow, measured puff. He counted silently—one, two, three—letting the cool medicine flow through him, calming the tightness in his lungs.
After a moment, he straightened, pressing a hand to his chest and exhaling slowly. The pounding of his heart had eased slightly, and his vision cleared. He could do this. He could focus.
Bursting into his room, he yanked open his desk drawer. Tucked beneath a stack of papers was a photograph: a brown-haired woman in armor, emerging from a cave, with a small note beside it that read "reward."
Eugene's breath caught again, but this time from surprise and disbelief rather than exertion. The resemblance to Sasha—or rather, the woman he now knew as Sasha Liadon—was uncanny. Her hair was slightly different, but the shape of her ears and her frame left no doubt. "No way it's coincidence," he muttered, staring at the photo, heart hammering in a steadier rhythm now.
He dialed the number scrawled beneath the photograph, hands slightly trembling.
"Marks pizza an—" click.
"Slow down, Eugene," he scolded himself.
He dialed again, carefully.
"Law offices of Simon Liadon, how can I assist you?" a calm, professional voice answered.
"This is Eugene Sparkmsn. I just made an ID for the woman in the photo from the cave…"
There was a pause.
"One moment as I direct your call," the voice said. Music began playing softly in the background—classic soft rock, surprisingly soothing.
"This is Simon Liadon. Tell me what you know," came the final voice, sharp yet patient.