A black sedan had been idling by the roadside for quite a while without moving.
After getting called into the car, Orion looked completely lost and confused. He couldn't help asking when he noticed the man in the driver's seat staring blankly in one direction, "Mr. Strickland, since you're already here... why not just go in?"
Honestly, when Sabrina first asked him about it, he almost had a heart attack-he thought she'd felt snubbed by Gracewell. But to his shock, everything went more smoothly than expected. Way too smoothly.
"Who was that guy?" Cedric finally pulled his gaze away just as Sabrina and the young man laughed their way into a cab.
"That's Ms. Lionhart's apprentice. Last name Morris," Orion answered honestly, then added, "Honestly, I always imagined a beauty expert would be in her forties or fifties, and probably hard to please given how she skips all events. But seeing her today really shattered that stereotype."
Turns out the real skincare genius? Young, stunning, and radiating energy.
A prodigy if there ever was one.
Cedric didn't catch the rest of Orion's rambling. His mind had gotten hung up on one word-apprentice.
An apprentice? Now that's something.
"Everything go smoothly?" Cedric asked.
"Super smooth!" Orion straightened up, visibly trying to contain his excitement. "At first I freaked out when I saw the numbers-thought Ms. Lionhart would totally flip. I was just about to call you, but then she looked right at it and just went, 'Okay,' grabbed the pen and signed like it was no big deal. Honestly, if Pama got wind of these terms... they might have an aneurysm."
Cedric gave a nod. "Got it. You can get out now."
Click-the car doors unlocked.
With a huge grin still frozen on his face, Orion blinked at the sudden dismissal, quickly wiped off the smile and hopped out without a fuss.
*****
Sure, Twinkle's deal was signed, but Sabrina knew the real game had just begun.
From now on, she'd be working closely with Gracewell's folks. She had no clue what their R&D team was like-if they'd be chill or a pain to deal with.
New environments always made her nervous, but having Simon by her side helped ease that tension a little.
As her apprentice, it should be fine bringing him into the R&D zone.
Right then, Simon was kneeling by the coffee table, peering through a magnifying glass he'd dug up from who-knows-where, meticulously reading every line of the contract.
Sabrina, annoyed, tore open a bag of chips with a loud rip, grabbed a handful and stuffed them into her mouth. "I already signed it. Even if it's a trap, too late to back out now."
"I just wanna check and see if Gracewell actually had the guts to try and lock down Twinkle forever for fifty million," Simon muttered, frustrated.
He hadn't had time to review it earlier-he'd caught something in Sabrina's eyes that had thrown him off.
In his mind, she had always been that carefree, light-hearted type; full of color, never weighed down.
Sure, her family history was messy, but Lynne adored her, and she had someone basically like a sister in Monica. The whole R&D crew had the emotional range of a golden retriever-easy to get along with.
So what did she have to worry about?
And yet, when she signed that contract... for the first time, he caught something different under that always-sunny exterior. Something quiet and hidden.
Turns out, just because a feeling is buried doesn't mean it isn't there.
Sabrina said nothing, just kept munching on chips while letting him comb through the papers.
After skimming through the whole thing, Simon finally stopped muttering to himself. He let out a reluctant grunt and admitted, "Well, at least the guy's not stingy-it's fifty million just for a one-year license to use Twinkle."
"One year?" Sabrina almost shouted.
Developing a new product line could take who knows how long-three, five, even seven months was totally normal. And that's without accounting for testing phases and the actual launch. By the time all that's done, a year could be over in a blink.
Did Cedric really understand how limited this licensing period was? Once that year was up, it didn't matter if the product was out for just a day-without a renewal, it'd all be pulled off the shelves.
Did he seriously trust her that much?
"Yeah, it's written in black and white. One year. Not exactly a loss for us. Sabrina, you can hold onto that dowry of yours. I'll talk to the folks in the lab for you," Simon said as he closed the contract, fiddling with a pen held between his lips and nose.
"Wait a minute, why do you sound like you've seen a lot of contracts before?" Sabrina asked, genuinely puzzled.
She could read all the legal jargon, sure, but once the words came together, it just felt like a maze. She had a legal team for stuff like this, honestly. But Simon? He'd breezed through that thick contract and zeroed in on the key points like it was second nature.
"I, uh..." Simon put the pen down and shuffled toward the door. Some questions were better avoided. "I've gotta bounce, Master. If Gracewell calls and wants you on set, just text me. Later!" he said, already halfway out.
Sabrina rolled her eyes.
*****
Gracewell hadn't even pressed Sabrina to start working yet. She was the one who kept calling to follow up, only to get told every time to just rest for now.
And it was driving her nuts. A one-year license, and three days had already ticked by since they signed... Gracewell wasn't in a rush at all.
But her worrying wasn't helping anything. She didn't even have Cedric's contact info. No way to press him for answers. Since he didn't seem to be in a hurry, fine-she'd take it easy too.
Another day passed.
One of her friends who's big on charity invited her to an event at a senior center. The idea was to bring some joy to the elderly, and since she worked in skincare, Sabrina could show them how to whip up basic moisturizers. It was almost winter-dry skin season.
It sounded like a great cause, and she said yes on the spot. They set a time.
She didn't tell Simon about it-he'd been acting all mysterious lately. Every time she called, she'd catch someone in the background talking about real estate. Seriously, was he still stuck on house hunting?
She didn't bother digging into it.
Dragging a toolkit packed with ingredients and supplies, Sabrina caught a cab to the senior center.
Standing at the entrance, her eyes landed on the plaques hanging on both sides. It hit her just then-this wasn't a regular retirement home.
To be precise, it was a care facility for Alzheimer's patients.
It even had a less formal nickname: "The Memory Village."
Plainly put, it was a dementia ward-part recovery center, part research institute.
Sabrina hadn't even stepped inside when a strange ache tugged at her chest.
She'd never encountered this illness firsthand, but had seen it on TV enough to get the gist.
"Sabrina!" a familiar voice called out from inside.
Sabrina saw her friend step out from the nursing home in a fitted skirt, swiping her access card and walking over. She pushed back the sour feeling in her chest and greeted her with a smile, "It's been a long time."
"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm like a headless chicken these days-three events all lined up today. Just stopping here for a bit before I rush off again. You'll be okay by yourself, right?" Her friend led her inside.
"Totally fine, just tell me if there's anything I need to keep in mind." Sabrina clutched her case with both hands, looking all serious like a kid heading to school.
"It's really nothing major-just the memory stuff, or rather, the serious lack of it. You'd better be ready to answer the same question a dozen times. Like just now, this old guy grabbed me and kept asking for my name. I must've told him like seventeen or eighteen times. Almost lost it."
Her friend added with a grin, "Oh right, about your skincare stuff-don't bother teaching them how to make it. Just do one batch yourself, portion it up, and hand it out. They won't remember the steps anyway. Might even forget what it's for after five minutes."
Sabrina found herself oddly annoyed.
Maybe it was because she wasn't great with memory herself, so she couldn't help feeling a bit for the folks inside.
Memory loss from organ decline or illness... that's no joke.
But she bit her tongue-no point souring a reunion over this.
Her friend seemed to catch on. "You're still just as soft-hearted, huh? One sentence in and you're already emotional? But seriously, be careful. All the people living here? Rich and powerful types. You gotta watch what you say. Sometimes they're surprisingly lucid, and if you say the wrong thing, you don't want to get reported. But you? I trust you. You've always been good with people."
Sabrina nodded. "Got it."
After a few more steps, her friend introduced her to one of the nurses and left. Sabrina followed the nurse along a stone path toward the back of the building, the sound of chatter slowly growing louder.
"No need to be nervous," the nurse said gently. "Just think of them as a bunch of mischievous kids. I mean, toddlers don't remember much either, right? Until their brains grow. It's kinda similar."
"Don't worry, I'm good," Sabrina replied.
They walked past a wall, and finally, the scene opened up before her.
Around twenty seniors, both men and women, about the same age, most staring off blankly in their foldable plastic chairs. Only a handful showed any real expression-
And even those expressions moved in slow motion, way behind what you'd call normal.
Sabrina had never met people like this before, and all at once, it felt overwhelming. Seeing it on TV just didn't compare. Her lips pressed together slightly as she stepped forward.
Around the area were nurses and a few others dressed normally-probably family members of the residents.
The place was buzzing with noise and activity.
She reached the long table, set down her toolbox, ready to introduce herself-but then her eyes landed on one of the elders sitting across two chairs. And that face was unmistakably familiar.
"Grandpa Strickland!" she gasped, abandoning her kit and rushing straight toward the man in the crowd.
