Aiko rose before dawn the following day and slipped on her training gear. Stealthy gliding past Paige’s room, she made her way to the dojo in the pre-dawn darkness. Even as the tiredness wore her down, her moves were flawless, and each movement affirmed her commitment to Hiroto’s careful instruction. As she practiced, her mind circled back to one thing—Paige.

“You are up early,” he remarked as she wiped her sweat-drenched brow with a towel.

The rising sun made his looming figure appear larger than life. His eyes met hers; there was something different about them today, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before.

“Yes,” she replied. “I needed the extra practice.”

Hiroto nodded with silent approval.

“But you should not overdo it,” he warned, his tone more gentle than she expected. “There is as much wisdom in rest as in practice.”

Aiko gave a slight nod, but said nothing further. She turned to leave the dojo, but Hiroto’s voice stopped her.

“Aiko,” he called out, a heaviness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. She paused, turning back to face him. “About your question last night... I want you to know I will always support you. But remember this: suspicion alone is not proof.”

Aiko felt a lump forming in her throat. The casual conversation contained untold meanings and hidden messages. Hiroto knew more than he was letting on.

“Understood,” she replied. With that, she turned and left the dojo.

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Despite the monotony of chores and schoolwork, Aiko’s mind was somewhere else. She went about everything like some robot following her master’s instruction, her thoughts consumed by a burning desire to uncover the truth about Paige. Every glance Paige shot her way, every word the woman uttered, seemed laced with deception. A knock took her out of her thoughts as Aiko finished polishing Paige’s previous crystal figurine collection.

Who’s that?

Since Paige became her guardian all those months ago, she had never had a visitor. As her fake aunt answered the door, Aiko took her time with the remaining crystal trinkets. A middle-aged man wearing an Irish wool hat and a tweed suit was at the door.

“Harold, I thought I told you… Aiko, would you be a dear and give us some privacy?”

“Yes, Auntie,” she said as she left the room.

Sure, I will leave the room, but voices carry in this old house.

She carefully tucked herself away in the study, the door barely ajar. The voices were muffled at first, but as their discourse heated, their words became more apparent.

“Harold,” Paige said in an icy tone, “I told you never to come here.”

“Why?” Harold retorted, his voice thick with an Irish lilt. “Are you afraid the girl might get wind of our little secret?”

“That’s none of your business. You’ve done your part. Now leave.”

There was a pause, and then Harold spoke again, “What’s taking so long about getting our money? We could be in the south of France by the end of the month if something would happen to that little girl. You're taking a huge risk keeping her around. You know it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.”

The room went cold. Aiko felt her heart pound in her chest. She strained to hear Paige’s response.

“Get out,” Paige finally spat out, her voice taut with suppressed fury. After a moment, the front door closed with a soft thud.

Aiko sat still in the study long after their voices had faded away. Harold’s words echoed in her mind repeatedly, like a twitch that wouldn’t go away.

She felt her resolve harden as she stood up.

Now more than ever, she knew there was something Paige was hiding from her—something that Aiko was going to expose, and soon.