Concerns swelled in my head as I returned to my bedroom. Would the false trail I constructed outfox my grandfather? Could I even overcome him? What would occur if he uncovered the truth? Would he confront me before informing Gale? Would he inform Gale at all? What would Gale do with the information? How much did he already know? Was what Grandpa told me the whole story or what he wished for me to learn as part of a scheme to outmaneuver me?

 

I entered my bedroom and found Wynn sweeping my corner desk with an anti-spy bug detector.

 

“I checked your room’s security footage, and it all looked normal,” Wynn said. “Doing this to play it safe.”

 

I chewed on my lip and considered how likely we were to encounter surveillance. Grandpa wouldn’t do anything so easily countered, I reasoned. He wouldn’t take me lightly.

 

Of course, that begged the question of how, assuming he had. I began to ask myself how I’d do it, but before I finished, I had the answer: the phone. Or, in other words, he’d utilize the same method I had against Narcissa.

 

I placed my hand on my chin as I contemplated how likely that was to occur. On the one hand, my phone included the most current software for blocking such endeavors. On the other, Grandpa was acquainted with persons who theoretically could overcome it. After his time as a cop, he founded a security firm that tested and improved people’s defenses.

 

Would he execute such an approach? I wondered, having accepted that he could.

 

His Galdist beliefs placed a tally in the yes column. It could be rationalized as “a necessary step in stopping me from tainting my soul any further.” I doubted he’d desire to spy on me, however. Moreover, given the deed's illegality, he likely wouldn’t default toward it. So it was a lesser concern – though still a concern.

 

Much obliged, Gale, I thought as I considered how he was the architect of the quandary.

 

The fact he did so based on a profile struck me as peculiar. What could I’ve done which drew his suspicion? I doubted my desire to interact with Narcissa had indicated anything about my endeavor. After all, he had no reason to reject my pretext. Or at least none I could determine.

 

“Everything’s clean,” Wynn said as he tucked the bug detector in his suit jacket. “Well, everything’s clean, or Gale’s dirtier than I ever expected.”

 

My passing thought regarding Gale and Ozon surfaced once more.

 

Gale could mastermind everything with Narcissa. My victimology wasn’t a secret, and Gale wasn’t a fool. As with Grandpa, the question wasn’t could, but would.

 

Do I know enough about Ozon to say one way or the other? I pondered.

 

The answer was no. I couldn’t even yet confirm if Ozon existed. For instance, Ozon could’ve been a sting operation in which Narcissa played a role. She could’ve lied about her house being broken into. And Ozon’s second bait tried to lure me toward a cop… I noted.

 

I began to consider how the first four letters of Narcissa’s name spelled “narc,” but then I recognized how absurd it would be to think that evidence of a sting operation.

 

Nevertheless, more questions emerged as I contemplated the possibility of a snare. Why did Narcissa choose Bergmastand for an encounter? She could’ve selected anywhere, as I had performed crimes across the country – plenty of which aren’t known. Were they explicitly baiting me – me as in Cassidy Cain? If so, was that why the name Ozonnole was selected? Was it meant to target the Zimavatan side of my heritage?

 

I strode back and forth around my room, contemplating.

 

“You okay, Cass?” Wynn asked.

 

“I wish to be alone for a little. Take the rest of the day for yourself.”

 

“You sure—”

 

“Yes—” I began to scream, but I caught myself slipping. I drew in a lungful of air, repeated my self-control mantra, and exhaled. “Yes, I’m certain. Sorry, I’m feeling a tad overwhelmed.”

 

“I’m here if you need me,” he said as he advanced towards the door.

 

I bowed my head. “Much obliged.”

 

Wynn gave a thumbs-up gesture before exiting.

 

I returned to pacing my room not too long after. What’s more, I devoured chocolate from my hidden stash. Wrappers littered the carpet.

 

Gale could be involved with Ozon, though he isn’t necessarily the mastermind, I reasoned as one of my milky chocolate coins crunched between my teeth. Unfortunately, the previous conclusion was inductive reasoning and, thus, unreliable. Or at least it was until I gathered more information and tested my hypothesis.

 

Or in other words, I had to stay the course with my scheme. The scheme connected me to Narcissa, who led me to Ozon.

 

I couldn’t proceed with what I had planned, however. Conspiracy or not, Grandpa and Gale would suspect me if The Maker’s Tear were stolen before coming into my possession. They would investigate such an incident – and I had no inkling what such an investigation would uncover. Time for a Plan C, I decided.

 

It should go without saying that disinformation became my most serious concern. I reflected on the factors which empower illusions – what I said before about how individuals are more willing to embrace fiction when the truth is troublesome. In this case, the troubling truth for Grandpa would be what he’d have to legally do if he could prove I was The Grandmaster of Theft. Thus, circumstances demanded I supply sufficient conflicting evidence.

 

I deliberated over what I could do while flipping a chocolate coin. Supplying Narcissa with a proper defense seemed like a decent starting point. Still, it wasn’t overwhelming evidence in my favor – Gale and Grandpa could conclude that I was biding time.

 

I could’ve orchestrated and repelled a Grandmaster scheme – being seen countering The Grandmaster could make me appear credible. However, it didn’t move me any closer to claiming The Maker’s Tear.

 

This isn’t too different from our initial confrontation, I mused as I rolled the chocolate coin across my knuckles. I couldn’t take The Maker’s Tear directly then, and I couldn’t take it directly now. So, like then, I had to target somewhere else, somewhere weaker, and leverage it against Narcissa.

 

I gasped, grinned, and burst over to my Grandmaster cell phone. As you might recall, I hacked into Narcissa’s phone. I utilized it for spying on her conversations, but I wasn’t limited to that. I probed her data and found something useful: her bank account data and passwords.

 

I can use this against Ozon as well, I realized. Not only would I expose how compromised Narcissa was as bait, but I could bluff about how ready I was for blowback against Narcissa or Gabrielle. If I were in Ozon's position, I’d think twice about enacting anything. Instead, I’d abandon Narcissa – who, left to her own devices, would yield once more.

 

I crossed my arms, leaned forward, and stared at my carpet. The scheme was incomplete. After all, I remained a person of interest. I could, at best, lay low after enacting the plan. Who knows how long that would last? Simply draining her accounts wouldn’t suffice. I had to seize control of the narrative. I had to sabotage the theory.

 

There are two elements any sabotage requires: timing and publicity. A more stellar promotion means greater exposure, and greater exposure means a more significant impact. I need an event of some sort to broadcast everything at, I thought before smirking once more. It should go without saying what I intended to exploit.

 

It took some time to organize my thoughts, but it was worth it as my path forward smoothed. First, I’d approach Narcissa and integrate myself into her operation, as initially planned. The one difference in the scheme would be my pretext for doing so. For the plan to work, I had to acknowledge the suspicion surrounding me and explain how I wished to clear my name.

 

I’m sure that sounds inane – why let the person accused of being your enemy into your ranks – but allow me to explain my reasoning. One: it would likely result in greater scrutiny of me, which could serve as evidence of my innocence in the long term. Two: my honesty could bolster the illusion of purity because it was counterproductive.

 

Once in, I intended to encourage Narcissa to further antagonize The Grandmaster of Theft. I was confident I could convince her to replicate the train scenario. However, this time the setting would be The Sowing Tomorrow Gala. I was certain Narcissa would relish the company as well; it provided her an opportunity to brandish herself in front of the upper stratum of Heimilis.

 

The final portion of the scheme is where I ran into a couple of issues.

 

Acquiring The Maker’s Tear wasn’t where the issue lay. Narcissa would be emotionally vulnerable after humiliating her. I could arrange a trade: The Maker’s Tear for her safety from Ozonnole. As for how I’d protect her, I’d place her in hiding while we hunted Ozonnole. She’d be safe and, well, I won’t deny I found some pleasure in the idea

 

Think about it: Narcissa Richmond, a prima donna who did whatever she pleased for attention, being forced to steer clear of the spotlight. I couldn’t help but find some joy in it.

 

Anyway, the issue didn’t lie with the event being spoiled by my alter ego either. I didn’t mind. It would make me appear the victim, which strengthened the illusion. My mother would likely message me about endangering the gala in the first place, but I could explain away my actions as a publicity stunt. It wouldn’t be the end of the world – provided I had the event properly crashed.

 

Suspicion could still fall on me if it was simply a recording or such. So I had to press further. The Grandmaster of Theft had to materialize in person. That way, I’d be an impossible suspect, as we’d have been in the same place simultaneously.

 

That, of course, required a double. Crow came to mind first – he was of no use to me anymore otherwise – but the issue of trust remained. The role of Grandmaster of Theft required someone who could not only arrive and escape but likewise play the part perfectly. Moreover, I needed someone who wouldn’t embarrass me on such a grand stage – if things went awry, the exposure would backfire on my reputation as a thief.

 

I was, ultimately, the only person suitable for the role.

 

I struck my desk. My scheme required me to be myself as well. Thus, it was out of the question.

 

Sablin, sablin, sablin! I cursed as I hunched over and scrapped my nails through my hair. The addition of Gale and Grandpa made everything seem insurmountable. Still, there had to be a way. There was always a way.

 

“Think, think, think,” I said as I tapped my forehead against my desk.

 

I reached a single conclusion: I had to trust someone to appear as either The Grandmaster of Theft or as me.

 

I could arrange for the former to be in the least amount of danger. Whoever played The Grandmaster could appear atop the building, away from those who sought to capture them. However, I loathed the idea of entrusting that to anyone else. What if they messed up? Or captured? Moreover, arranging for such a person would be a task in and of itself, especially since I refused to utilize Crow for the role.

 

Having an imposter for me, however, was self-destructive. I needn’t explain why.

 

My personal phone jangled. I fetched it and found a text from Becca.

 

Hey Cassie, have you seen A Bastard’s Grievance yet?

 

I began to type no; I doubted the studio’s ability to adapt five volumes into a single film without disfiguring the narrative.

 

Then I froze.

 

My eyes widened as I took in Becca’s adorable avatar, which featured her magician’s hat. She’s perfect… I realized.

 

She possessed the skills I required. She could perform as me with perfect precision. What’s more, I intended to share the truth with her regardless.

 

I vibrated with renewed fire. Our relationship provided us with the perfect pretext for maneuvering. I could disguise Becca’s recruitment as romance and secure our privacy with intimacy.

 

I would’ve kissed her had she been with me. Or, at least, I would’ve considered it. What would’ve stopped me is the same thing that halted my celebration. A quote from the day before echoed in my head.

 

“Give me some time to do the same, and I’ll get back to you on that.”

 

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was as if I had tripped right before the finish line. Yet another scheme shattered by Wynn…

 

I couldn’t help, but stew over how different the job would’ve proceeded had Wynn trusted my judgment in Sokkinhveim. Ozonnole wouldn’t have known about my presence. We would’ve never jeopardized Gabrielle’s safety. Gale might not have even known anything occurred when I disappeared – assuming he knew. The clue wouldn’t have existed, at the very least.

 

Why should I even care about how he feels? I wondered. He didn’t care about my sentiments even after I shed light on how he endangered my scheme. I had to cope with a decision he made despite my stated wishes. Why couldn’t he do the same?