Maja let out a sigh of relief and immediately reached out to Nana.

Back when she was in Cania, she had a decent rapport with Nana. The question was whether Nana would be willing to lend a hand

this taround.

To her surprise, Nana was already in Greenfield. Being a native of Windhelm, it wasn't just a coincidence—she was on a manhunt

for the culprit who'd wronged her brother.

Learning that the research facility was in trouble, Nana didn't hesitate to offer her help.

She arrived that afternoon, and her companion, Number Eight, was enshrouded in a black hoodie and masked, his features hidden

from curious eyes.

Maja grabbed Nana's hand, her face etched with gratitude.

"Thank you."

Nana's grip tightened in response, a rare, sincere smile breaking through her usually stoic expression.

"I should be thanking lan. If he hadn't destroyed the research facility, my brother wouldn't have cback."

As she finished, Number Eight's hand shot out, nervously clutching at her sleeve.

"Nana."

The boy's voice was raspy, suggesting that he should have outgrown the voice changer by now. Clearly, the anxiety was getting to

him.

Maja, concerned about his well-being, suggested a checkup.

"Should we have someone cto examine him?"

"No need. The doctor you brought last twas excellent. He's recovered well physically, but because he hasn't interacted much

with others, he's quite shy."

After all, he was, in many ways, raised within the confines of the research facility, with only the doctor and a few other researchers

for company. Everyone else was a non-entity to him.

His obsession had always been to find his sister, and now that he had, the flood of emotions was overwhelming.

Nana tightened her hold on Maja's hand. "Let's hear your plan, and we can figure out how to work together."

The group settled into the living room couches, and Maja laid out her deductions before turning to Dylan.

"Dylan, does the Sanders clan have any influence here in Windhelm? We need something solid, given Bernard's clout."

Bernard was a high flier in Windhelm, and his network wasn't easily toppled.

"We do, but Bernard is held in high regard. To get others on our side, we need damning evidence against him. Why would they trust

us otherwise?"

Bernard had played his cards close to the chest for years, and even his political rivals wouldn't dare move against him without a

slip-up.

In their line of work, vigilance was paramount.

Maja nodded, showing she understood.

Leaning back, she pondered that Bernard was soon to arrive with lan and Patric in tow. He still had the original research data—

could he be planning to keep it to himself?

She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on from trying to piece together the missing links—Bernard's ultimate goal,

his reasons for opposing lan, and why he'd groom a replacement for lan.

As the pain in her head mounted, she heard Beck speak up.

"Maja, not that I doubt you, but I can't help thinking—Bernard's son died in that facility, and he's loathed the place ever since. How

could he be the puppet master? If we don’t sort this out, there might be flaws in our plan."

In police work, establishing the cause of death was step one. Without it, the case fell apart.

They needed to unearth Bernard's true motive, or none of it made sense.

A light sparked in Maja's eyes, and she turned to Dylan.

"Dylan, the story of Bernard's son dying in the facility—who released it? Is there evidence, or has it all been Bernard's narrative

from the start?"

Dylan glanced at his wristwatch.

"Fitch should be here. He knows more about it, given the Haskins family's ties to the upper echelons."

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, announcing Fitch's arrival.

Fitch had jetted in on a chopper, spurred by Maja's urgent tone. He hadn't even had tto change out of his mud-splattered

clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.

Without looking at anyone, he settled onto the couch.

"Where'd you leave off?" he asked, his composure bolstering Maja's confidence.

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