15 March 2025

  Arcadia University - 4:23 PM

  Male Dormitories - 1st Floor

  A soft creak echoed as a hand curled around the doorknob, fingers poised with mischievous intent.

  Veronica leaned close, her voice barely a whisper but brimming with mischief. "Alright, remember the plan? Surprise attack. He's probably still glued to that damn game."

  Her lips curled into a grin that promised chaos. Her twin, Victoria—standing just behind her—shifted nervously on her feet.

  "Veronica," Victoria said, her brow knitting together as she glanced down the quiet hallway, "what if he's not even in there? And even if he is… sneaking into his dorm? Really? Did Mom not lecture us enough about boundaries?"

  Veronica shot her a look over her shoulder. "Boundaries, shmoundaries. You always get that guilty face and blow our cover anyway."

  Victoria crossed her arms but remained in place, knowing that once her sister had a glint in her eye, reason rarely prevailed.

  Veronica pressed her ear against the door, crinkling her nose as she concentrated. "No keyboard mashing," she murmured. "That's weird. He's usually clacking away like a maniac by now. Maybe he went out? Or passed out?"She paused, her expression tightening. "Wait… do you smell that?"

  Victoria's posture stiffened. "Smell what?"

  Veronica stepped back slightly, her nose twitching. "Burnt… something. Like toast… or maybe wires? Ugh, I told him not to leave those trashy extension cords tangled under his desk."

  A second later, Victoria caught it too—acrid, faint but undeniable.

  Her caution evaporated in a heartbeat."Oh god—open it, Veronica! Now!"

  Veronica didn't need to be told twice. She twisted the knob and shoved the door open.

  A thin trail of smoke coiled lazily in the air, glowing faintly in the light of the desk lamp. The acrid scent of scorched plastic and burnt metal hit them instantly.

  Valerian sat slumped forward in his chair, his head resting limply on the desk. His laptop—charred and lifeless—emitted a final weak spark before the screen flickered black.

  "Valerian!" Veronica's voice cracked as she rushed to his side. "Val, wake up!"She grabbed his shoulders and gently shook him. His head lolled, revealing a pale, sweat-drenched face and singed hair. Panic surged through her like ice water.

  "Come on, come on…" she whispered, her fingers trembling as she brushed the hair from his forehead.

  Victoria was already kneeling beside them, pressing two fingers against his neck. Her jaw clenched as she counted in her head—one, two, three—then let out a shaky breath."He's alive. Pulse is steady," she said, her voice tight but controlled. "Okay. You call Mom and Dad—I'm calling 911."

  Without waiting for a response, she gently eased Valerian from the chair, cradling his limp frame as she guided him onto the bed.Veronica fumbled for her phone, her eyes never leaving her brother. Her hands shook as she tapped the screen. "C'mon… pick up… pick up…" she pleaded as she dialed their father.

  The thin tendrils of smoke still snaked through the air in Valerian's dorm, the silence following the initial chaos heavy with dread.

  Blue Eagles High School

  In the quiet stillness of an empty classroom at Blue Eagles High School, the late afternoon sun slanted through tall windows, casting long, golden rays that illuminated swirling dust motes in a lazy, silent dance. Lucien Beaumont, just under six feet tall with broad shoulders beneath the crisp fabric of his white dress shirt, leaned back in his worn leather chair—a familiar comfort after a long day of teaching. The rolled-up sleeves revealed forearms subtly toned from years of regular workouts, a healthy habit enthusiastically encouraged by his wife and their spirited daughter, Veronica. Thin-framed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose magnified the focused intensity in his eyes as he meticulously reviewed a stack of physics test papers.

  The last of his students had long departed, their youthful energy replaced by a studious calm. A half-empty mug of lukewarm coffee, its surface filmy with a slight skin, sat beside a neatly stacked pile of completed tests—proof of hours of dedicated work. Lucien relished these moments of focused solitude; amidst the familiar scent of chalk dust and the quiet hum of the ventilation system, his concentration sharpened. He hated bringing work home, so he always finished it at school.

  Tapping his finger thoughtfully against the final paper, his lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Jimmy's finally grasping the core concepts better," he murmured to the empty room, a quiet satisfaction in his voice. "Still needs to work on his application, but there's definitely a spark of understanding there." With one final, decisive checkmark, he capped his pen with a soft click and exhaled slowly, the day's tension ebbing away, replaced by a sense of accomplishment.

  Then, the insistent trill of his phone shattered the peaceful silence, the electronic intrusion almost violent in the stillness. Fumbling for the device nestled in his pocket, the screen flared to life, illuminating "Veronica" in bold letters. Even before he answered, a cold knot of unease clenched in his stomach, a paternal instinct sensing that something was terribly wrong.

  "Hello?" he answered, his voice betraying a tremor of apprehension despite his attempt at calm.

  A frantic voice, high-pitched and laced with raw terror, exploded through the speaker. "Dad! Dad, it's Valerian! Something's wrong! You need to get here, now!" Veronica's words tumbled out in a rapid, disjointed torrent, punctuated by choked, heart-wrenching sobs.

  "Veronica! Slow down, sweetheart. What is it? What's wrong with Valerian?" Lucien's calm shattered instantly, splintering into a thousand pieces. His pen clattered onto the desk, the sudden noise echoing in the quiet room. Papers rustled as he stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly, nearly knocking over the half-empty coffee mug, the dark liquid sloshing precariously.

  "He's… he's unconscious, Dad! We just found him in his room! There's smoke—his laptop… it's all burnt!" Her voice broke completely, dissolving into uncontrollable sobs that tore at Lucien's heart. "Oh God, Dad, he's not waking up!"

  "Smoke? Unconscious?" The words hit him like blows, each syllable laced with terrifying reality. "Veronica, where are you? Are you both safe?" His mind raced—a chaotic whirlwind of fear and disbelief—as he fumbled for his car keys and jacket. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure it could be heard over the roaring in his ears.

  "We're at his dorm, Dad! At Arcadia! Victoria's with him and has already called 911. Please, hurry!" Her voice, barely a strained whisper, trembled with a fear that mirrored his own.

  In the background, amid Veronica's sobs, Lucien could faintly hear Victoria's measured yet strained voice speaking calmly and precisely to the 911 operator.

  "Okay, okay, I'm coming," Lucien replied, his voice cracking under the weight of dread. "Tell Victoria I'm on my way. And don't move him unless absolutely necessary. I'm calling your mother right now."

  He ended the call with a trembling finger, shoving his phone into his pocket as he practically vaulted out of his worn leather chair. His car keys, usually neatly placed on the corner of his desk, clattered to the floor as his hand swept across the surface in his haste. He snatched them up, his hand slick with sweat, and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, nearly ripping it in his urgency. The horrifying image of his pale, motionless son flashed behind his eyes, eclipsing everything else.

  He burst out of the quiet classroom and into the suddenly bustling hallway, the late afternoon dismissal rush still in full swing.

  "Lucien? Everything alright, old friend?" Mr. Henderson, the English teacher and someone the Beaumonts had known for years, called out, noticing his frantic pace and the panicked look on his face as he ran past him.

  "It's Valerian, Tom," he managed to choke out, his voice tight with urgency, not stopping his stride. "Something's happened. I have to go."

  "Valerian? Oh, no! Anything we can do?" Tom asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

  "Just… keep an eye on things here for me," Lucien replied, already rounding the corner towards the main exit, his mind solely focused on reaching his son.

  He practically sprinted through the double doors and out into the crisp afternoon air, the familiar sight of the school parking lot doing little to calm his racing heart. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, the metallic jingle a stark contrast to the roaring in his ears. Spotting his dark blue Volvo XC90 a few rows over, he broke into a run, the urgency propelling him forward. He jabbed the unlock button on the remote as he approached, the subtle click of the doors unlocking a small, almost unnoticed sound in his panicked state.

  Yanking open the driver's side door, he practically threw himself into the seat. He slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet parking lot. His hand instinctively went to the ignition button on the dashboard. With a quick press, the engine whirred to life, the digital display illuminating with a soft glow. Without pausing to ensure the car was fully out of park, Lucien slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The powerful engine of the Volvo responded instantly, and the tires squealed in protest as he tore out of his parking spot.

  His mind whirled with frantic thoughts—a terrifying mix of fierce paternal love and primal terror—as he sped through late afternoon traffic, desperate to reach his family before the shadows of the day grew any darker.

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  Lucien's fingers trembled as he tapped the answer button on his car's infotainment system, his gaze fixed ahead, willing the traffic to part. Violet's contact picture—a candid shot of her laughing, her usually sharp emerald eyes crinkled in genuine amusement—appeared on the screen, a stark contrast to the raw terror gripping him. He didn't wait for the connection to fully establish.

  "Violet! It's Valerian… something's happened. Veronica just called. He's unconscious in his dorm room. There was smoke, his laptop is burnt…" His voice wavered, the calm he attempted for Veronica threatening to shatter into raw, unfiltered fear. He took a deep, shuddering breath and focused on the blur of cars and streetlights ahead.

  There was a beat of stunned silence on the other end—a heavy, ominous pause. Then Violet's voice, usually so firm, was laced with an unfamiliar urgency."Lucien! What? Unconscious? What do you mean smoke? What happened? I just spoke to him a few minutes ago!" Her tone shifted instantly from loving wife to efficient Police Chief, demanding answers.

  "I… I don't know, Vi. Veronica was very upset. They just found him. Victoria called 911. They're at his dorm at Arcadia." Lucien's knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, his gaze darting between the road and the rear-view mirror, desperate for progress. He fought to keep his voice level, clinging to a semblance of control.

  "Okay. Listen to me, Lucien. Are the girls okay? Are they hurt?" Violet's voice, though strained, held a core of steel.

  "They sounded scared, Vi, but physically okay, I think. They're with him."

  "Good. I'm heading there now. I'll call dispatch and have a unit meet me at Arcadia. You get there as fast as you can. Don't touch anything in the room until I arrive, understood? It could be anything." Her professional tone was firm, a subtle challenge beneath the urgency.

  "Anything?" Lucien repeated, the single word echoing with uncertainty as a fresh wave of icy fear washed over him. He swallowed hard, trying to steady his voice. "Do you think there's more to this?"

  "I don't want to speculate, Lucien. But we need to treat this seriously until we know exactly what happened. Just get to Valerian. I'll be there as soon as I can."

  The call disconnected abruptly.Anything. The burnt laptop… the acrid smell of smoke… Valerian unconscious…

  He pressed harder on the accelerator, the powerful engine of the Volvo responding smoothly as he sped toward Arcadia University. The setting sun cast long, distorted shadows that seemed to mirror his mounting anxiety. He focused on staying calm—panic wouldn't help Valerian now. He had to be strong, as a father should be.

  Outside Valerian's Dorms

  Time: Approximately 4:38 PM, 15 March 2025

  The screech of tires against asphalt punctuated Lucien Beaumont's arrival. His silver Volvo XC90 shuddered to a halt outside the male dormitories, the sudden silence after engine cut-off amplifying the frantic drumbeat in his chest. He practically threw open the door and stumbled out, his gaze immediately snagging on the chaotic scene unfolding before him. The brick building pulsed with an unsettling rhythm, bathed in the frantic blue and red flashes of emergency lights. A small cluster of students, their faces etched with shock and morbid fascination, huddled near the entrance, whispering among themselves.

  Lucien's breath hitched as he scanned the crowd until he found them—his girls. Veronica's fiery auburn hair was a beacon, and beside her, Victoria stood a little straighter, her usually unflappable composure visibly fractured. Then he saw it—the stretcher with a crisp white sheet pulled taut, and the still, pale form beneath an oxygen mask that puffed with a shallow, mechanical rhythm—a chilling reminder of Valerian's unconscious state.

  His legs felt heavy as he started towards them, but before he could reach his daughters, a sleek, unmarked black SUV glided to a stop nearby. Violet emerged, radiating a controlled intensity that even dark jeans and a simple jacket couldn't conceal. The authority of a Police Chief emanated from her every move. Her eyes immediately locked onto Lucien's, a silent question and a shared wave of fear passing between them in that brief moment.

  Lucien reached her just as she closed the car door. "Vi," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion, reaching out to touch her arm.

  Violet's hand instinctively covered his, her grip firm despite the tremor he felt running through her. "Lucien," she acknowledged, her voice low but steady, her emerald eyes filled with a concern that mirrored his own. "Are the girls alright? What did they say happened?"

  "Scared, Vi. Just scared. Veronica was frantic on the phone. Something about smoke and his laptop..." Lucien's voice trailed off, his gaze drawn back to the stretcher.

  Violet squeezed his hand briefly before releasing it, her focus already shifting to the paramedics who were just beginning to move the stretcher. "Okay. Let's find out what's going on."

  Moving toward the paramedics with Lucien at her side, Violet's calm voice carried an edge of command. "Officers," she addressed them, her gaze sharp and direct, "what's the situation? Preliminary cause?"

  A young paramedic, the word tired, etched on his face, a look of recognition crossed his face as he nodded toward the dorm building. "Chief Beaumont, we responded to a smoke alarm. We found the young man unconscious in his room. Preliminary assessment points to an electrical fire involving his laptop." He gestured toward a charred, blackened device being carefully carried by a uniformed officer, its melted plastic emitting a faint, acrid odor. "It appears to be a faulty unit. The Fire Marshal will be on scene shortly to confirm, but initial indications suggest it was accidental."

  Violet's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the scene. "Appears? You've conducted a full investigation already?" Her tone remained measured, though underlying skepticism was palpable—a challenge. The young paramedic's eyes flickered nervously between Violet and the stretcher.

  Meanwhile, Lucien had reached Valerian's side. Kneeling beside the stretcher, his hand hovered for a heart-stopping moment before gently settling on his son's cool, slightly damp skin. "Val…" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper over the sirens and hushed voices. "Can you hear me, son?"Valerian remained utterly still, his breathing shallow and uneven, the oxygen mask the only sign of life. Lucien's heart ached with raw paternal fear.

  Veronica's red, swollen eyes locked with her father's. A single, glistening tear escaped and traced a path down her pale cheek. "Dad…" she choked out, her voice trembling, "we just found him like this. One minute, we were joking about surprising him; the next…" Her words dissolved into fresh sobs as her shoulders shook.

  Victoria, though ashen, spoke with forced steadiness, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "There was a strong smell of burning, Dad. Like melting plastic." Her gaze flickered toward the charred remains of the laptop. "It was really bad." Her composure wavered, her lower lip trembling as she swallowed hard, fighting back her own tears.

  The ambulance ride to the hospital blurred into a montage of flashing lights reflecting off the interior, the insistent wail of sirens slicing through the air, and a heavy silence laden with unspoken fears. Lucien held Veronica's hand tightly, his knuckles white as he offered a silent reassurance he barely felt himself. Violet sat rigidly in the front passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the road ahead, while Victoria stared out the side window, the passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows over her worried face.

  Washington's Peoples Hospital - 4:53 PM

  At the emergency room, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the hushed urgency of the staff enveloped them. They were quickly ushered into a small, brightly lit waiting area, the cold plastic chairs adding to their discomfort. Minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity, each tick of the wall clock amplifying their anxiety. Finally, a doctor—his expression a balanced blend of professionalism and genuine concern—approached them with a clipboard.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont? I'm Dr. Evans. Your son, Valerian, is stable at the moment. Our initial assessment indicates primarily smoke inhalation, though there are signs of a minor electrical shock. He's still unconscious, but his vital signs are stable. We'll keep him under close observation and run further tests, including neurological monitoring given the electrical component." He offered a reassuring nod.

  A collective sigh of relief, sharp and shaky, escaped them. Lucien stepped forward, his brow furrowed with concern. "Dr. Evans, thank you. Also, you said 'minor' electrical shock—how concerned should we be about that?"

  Violet, ever the pragmatist, added, "And what do you suspect caused the electrical shock? Was it related to the laptop?"

  Veronica, her voice cracked with emotion, interjected, "Can we see him, Doctor? Please, just for a moment?" Her eyes pleaded.

  Victoria, her expression now frayed with anxiety, asked, "What kind of neurological tests will you be running?"

  Dr. Evans nodded, addressing their questions in turn. "The electrical shock appears to have been relatively low voltage, but given that he lost consciousness, we're taking it seriously. The neurological monitoring is standard in these cases—we'll be looking for any signs of seizure activity or other complications. As for the cause, the paramedics mentioned a severely damaged laptop, so that is the likely source. We'll have a better idea once the Fire Marshal's report comes in." He paused, then offered a gentle smile.

  "And yes, you can see him. He's been moved to a private room down the hall. He's still unconscious, and we need to keep visits brief for now to allow him to rest, but I can take one or two of you at a time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other patients who need my attention, but please don't hesitate to call a nurse if you have any further questions." He gave them a final reassuring nod and turned to leave.

  A collective sense of relief washed over the family, momentarily easing the tension. Once Valerian was settled in a private room and the initial panic had subsided, Violet turned to Lucien, her eyes resolute—a look he knew well. "He's coming home with us when he's released." There was a finality in her voice that brooked no argument.

  Lucien rubbed the back of his neck, troubled as he looked toward the closed door of Valerian's room. "Vi, he's a grown man. He has his own life, his studies…"

  "His 'own life' almost ended tonight, Lucien. I'm not willing to risk that again. He needs to be where we can ensure he's safe and looked after." Her voice, though softer now, held a core of steel.

  "But we can't just wrap him in cotton wool, Violet. He needs to learn to be responsible for himself. We can support him, guide him, but making him move back home… it feels like we're stifling him."

  "Support him? Guide him? Lucien, our son was found unconscious amidst burnt electronics in his dorm room! This isn't about control—it's about protecting him! He could have died!" Her voice rose slightly, the carefully contained worry finally breaking through.

  Veronica and Victoria, huddled together on the uncomfortable plastic chairs, their faces still pale and etched with raw fear, finally spoke almost in unison, their voices tight with exhaustion, emotion and growing anger.

  "Mom, Dad," Veronica began, her voice trembling as she gestured toward the closed door, "are you really discussing where Valerian's going to live right now? He's lying there, unconscious! Doesn't that matter more than anything else?"

  Victoria's eyes, usually calm and collected, flashed with raw anger. "Yeah! He could have died! And you're arguing about his dorm room? We were so scared… we thought… and all you can think about is this?" Tears welled in her eyes as she choked out, "He needs us right now, not… not this stupid argument!"

  The weight of the twins' raw emotion hung heavily in the sterile hospital room, silencing their parents. Lucien and Violet exchanged a long, silent look, the truth of their daughters' words striking them like a physical blow. In their own worry and protective instincts, they had momentarily lost sight of the profound gravity of Valerian's situation.

  Lucien's throat tightened with guilt. He knelt before his daughters, taking each trembling hand in his. "You're right, girls," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Your mom and I… we were so caught up in our fear that we didn't see how scared you both are. We are so sorry. We love Valerian more than anything, and your well-being means the world to us too." Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at their pale, tear-streaked faces.

  Veronica and Victoria said nothing, but they leaned into their father, their earlier anger melting into relief and shared worry. Lucien pulled them close, holding them tightly.

  Violet's eyes brimmed with tears as she stepped forward, her composed demeanor finally cracking. "Oh, my beautiful girls," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. She knelt beside Lucien and pulled them into a tight embrace. "I am so incredibly sorry. You're right—nothing matters right now except making sure Valerian is okay and that you both feel safe and loved. I got scared, and I wasn't thinking clearly." A sob escaped her as she held them close. "I love you both so, so much."

  The three clung together for a long moment, the sterile air of the hospital room filled with the quiet sounds of their tears and the unspoken reassurance of their family bond. In that moment, the argument over Valerian's living arrangements seemed insignificant compared to the depth of their love and concern.

  This chapter took a turn, didn't it? We moved from Valerian's internal world to the immediate, visceral reactions of his family. Writing Veronica and Victoria's frantic discovery was intense, and I wanted to capture that raw, unfiltered fear that hits you when something is wrong with someone you love. And then seeing Lucien and Violet, the parents, spring into action – that protective instinct is something I find incredibly compelling.

  Family, in all its messy, worried, and fiercely loving forms, is a cornerstone of this story. Because even when we escape into other worlds, the people we care about most often ground us. The mystery of what happened to Valerian is deepening, and as his family gathers around him, you'll see their individual strengths and vulnerabilities come to the forefront. Their reactions, their concerns, will play a huge role in what unfolds next.

  Thank you for continuing to read. We're just scratching the surface of this story, and the bonds between these characters are going to be tested in ways they can't yet imagine. I hope you're as invested in their journey as I am in telling it.

  — A.M