Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rin had been born into a family with barely enough to get by. Luxuries like toys or treats were rare, and even something as simple as ice cream felt like a distant dream. Not that her parents would’ve bought her any even if they could. Truthfully, they didn’t care much at all—especially when it came to things like her grades, her health, or her happiness.
For as long as she could remember, Rin’s life had been defined by lack. Financially, emotionally, physically—she had always gone without.
At school, kids fell into three categories. There were the “nice” ones who didn’t treat her any differently just because she was poor. The “mean” ones who teased her for it relentlessly. And the “silent” ones—those who never said anything at all. A few asked about the bruises she sometimes came to school with, but Rin never knew which category they belonged to. She just told them she fell a lot. The teachers seemed to believe her.
She assumed life would always be like this. Bleak, lonely, and small.
Then one day, everything changed.
She could hardly believe it when her parents said they’d gotten tickets to Stanford Gleeful’s magic show—and even more shockingly, that they were taking her with them.
The family sat in cold metal chairs beneath the striped tent as the magician took the stage. Rin’s wide eyes locked on him instantly, captivated. She couldn’t look away from the man in the sharp suit with the deep voice and the quick hands that made impossible things seem real.
By the time the show ended, she hadn’t looked away once.
She also hadn’t noticed her parents were gone.
One by one, the audience trickled out of the tent, but Rin stayed rooted in place, scanning the crowd in growing panic. Maybe they were just waiting outside. Maybe she’d missed them somehow.
She waited. And waited.
But they didn’t come back.
She wandered the tent aimlessly, searching for what felt like hours, until a deep voice startled her out of her thoughts.
“What’s a young girl like you doing here so late, hm?”
She flinched as a large, gloved hand rested gently on her shoulder. The voice—so familiar from the show—belonged to Stanford Gleeful himself.
He chuckled at her reaction, low and amused. “No need to be frightened, dear. I don’t bite. What’s your name? I can’t just call you ‘little girl’ forever, now can I?”
Rin hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek before answering with a quiet, stuttered, “Uhm… I-I’m Rin…”
“Rin,” Stanford repeated thoughtfully, smoothing a hand through her light brown hair. “That’s a lovely name. Now tell me, Rin—where are your parents? All minors attending my show are supposed to be accompanied by an adult. You came with yours, yes?”
Rin’s heart sank as she glanced around the now-empty tent. “I… I don’t know. I thought they were just… sitting next to me…”
He raised an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses as he looked her over. “But you can’t find them now?”
She nodded slowly, eyes glossy with tears. “N-no…”
“I see,” Stanford said, voice quieter now, more serious. “Would you like me to help you look for them? It’s not safe for a young girl to be alone at this hour.”
Rin looked up at him, unsure. But then she gave a small nod. “P-please…”
With another soft chuckle, he extended a hand. “Well then, let’s go.”
She took it, hesitant at first, but grateful. The grass was cool beneath her feet as they stepped out into the night. They walked in silence, searching together. Stanford didn’t press her to talk, and Rin appreciated that.
But no matter where they looked, her parents were nowhere to be found. It was as if they had simply vanished.
Eventually, Stanford suggested they take a break. He offered to get her something to eat. Rin wanted to be polite, to say he didn’t have to—but her empty stomach said otherwise.
It was getting late. Rin was tired. Stanford could see it.
“How about this,” he said gently. “You can stay at my place for the night. We’ll resume our search in the morning.”
She blinked up at him, eyes heavy. “Okay…”
It was all she could manage. But even as she followed him into the unknown, a question sat heavy in her chest:
What if they never came back?
No... They would.
Right?

Chapter Text

The house of Stanford Gleeful was enormous—far beyond anything Rin had ever seen. Her family's home could probably fit into the foyer alone. Everything sparkled: polished marble floors, clean white walls, high ceilings with intricate crown molding. A grand piano stood in the entryway, as if waiting for someone important to play it. Multiple hallways branched out in every direction, like a maze designed for the wealthy.
Rin stared, wide-eyed.
Stanford noticed and chuckled. “Quite the place, isn’t it? I imagine you're not used to homes this size. Not many are—it takes a certain... lifestyle.”
He snapped his fingers. “Will! Come here.”
In a blink, a man appeared beside him. He wore a fitted black and blue suit with a crisp bow tie, his black top hat slightly askew. One glowing blue eye peeked out from under pale bangs; the other was hidden behind soft, messy strands. He looked uneasy, as if every breath might be his last.
“Y-yes, my lord?” he asked timidly.
Stanford didn’t even glance at him. “Show Rin around. I have work to attend to.”
Will bowed slightly. “Y-yes, sir…”
Stanford turned to Rin. “This is Will Cipher. Technically, he's older than both of us by a few trillion years, but don’t let that fool you. He’s been under my service for the past thirty. If you need anything, he’ll make sure it’s done.”
Will nodded quickly. “Y-yes… sir…”
With that, Stanford gave Rin a curt smile. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll find your parents.” And then he was gone, disappearing down one of the endless hallways.
For a moment, there was silence.
Will glanced at Rin. “U-uh… y-you're Rin, right?”
His voice was soft and unsteady, like someone constantly bracing to be hit. Rin nodded slowly. “Mhm…”
Will offered a trembling hand. “I-I’m Will… I’m… Stanford’s servant…”
She stared at him. Servant?
“Servant,” she echoed, as if trying the word out. “You… belong to him?”
Will nodded, not meeting her eyes. “Mhm… I-I serve him completely…”
Like how my parents owned me? she thought, frowning slightly.
Will spoke again, voice a little higher now. “W-would you like a tour, M-Miss Rin…?”
The title threw her. No one had ever called her that before. Still, she nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh.”
Will smiled faintly, clearly relieved to be around someone gentler than his master. Rin followed as he guided her through the twisting halls, pointing out lavish rooms, libraries, and even a room full of magical oddities she didn’t understand.
Eventually, the distant sound of piano keys drew them back toward the foyer.
Stanford was seated at the grand piano, fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys as he sang in a low, velvety tone:
We’ll… meet again…
Don’t know where…
Don’t know when…
But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day…
Rin stood frozen, staring. She’d known Stanford Gleeful was a man of talent, but this… this was magic of a different kind.
He looked up and smirked. “I see you two returned. Finished your tour?”
Will nodded. “Y-yes, sir…”
“Good.” Stanford stood, brushing invisible dust from his coat. “It’s getting late. Rin, you should get to bed. Come along—and you too, Will.”
The trio walked down the hall until Stanford stopped at a door and opened it. Inside was a luxurious bedroom—far beyond anything Rin had ever seen. A large four-poster bed with velvet curtains, a window that overlooked the forest outside, and a wooden vanity with a gold-trimmed mirror. On the bed sat a set of folded pajamas.
“Make yourself comfortable,” Stanford said. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Or call for Will—he’ll always answer.”
Will nodded quickly. “M-mhm… y-you just have to snap your fingers… a-and say my name…”
Rin nodded back, then yawned. She changed into the soft pajamas, climbed under the thick comforter, and let her head fall into the pillow. The bed was warm. Safe. She couldn't remember the last time she’d felt this peaceful.
As she drifted to sleep, a quiet voice in the back of her mind whispered:
What if this really was the best night of her life?

Downstairs, Stanford sat at his desk, skimming through ancient texts by lamplight. A soft knock came at the door.
“Yes?” he called, eyes still on the page.
The door creaked open.
Will stepped in, fidgeting with his sleeves. “S-sir… c-could I… s-speak with you about something…?”
Stanford sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Only if it’s important, Will. I’m busy.”
“I-it is, sir. I-it’s about… Rin.”
Now Ford looked up. “Rin? What about her?”
Will lowered his gaze. “I-I noticed… um… bruises. And scratches… a-and I just… I-I wanted to make sure she’s okay…”
Ford paused. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something thoughtful in his eyes now.
“I see. I’ll ask her about them in the morning,” he said quietly. “You’re dismissed.”
Will gave a shaky bow and quietly exited the room.
Stanford sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers. He didn’t say a word, but his mind was already turning.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Rin woke slowly, the softness of the bed and warmth of the blanket lulling her into a daze. For a moment, she thought it had all been a dream—Stanford Gleeful’s mansion, the velvet sheets, the strange servant named Will.
But no. The room was real.
She blinked against the light spilling in from the tall window and sat up. The smell of something sweet—pancakes, maybe—drifted through the air. Her stomach growled.
Rin climbed out of bed and padded down the hall, following the scent into the kitchen. Will stood by the stove, a spatula in one hand and a nervous smile on his face.
“G-good morning, Miss Rin…”
Rin smiled softly back. “Morning, Will…”
Just then, Stanford appeared in the doorway, sharp-eyed and unreadable as always. He looked at her for a moment before speaking.
“Rin. Could I speak with you privately?”
Her smile faltered. She nodded and followed him into a nearby sitting room, her bare feet brushing the expensive carpet. Stanford motioned for her to sit. She obeyed, nervously wringing her hands in her lap.
Had she done something wrong?
Stanford stood across from her, arms folded, expression unreadable. Then he cleared his throat.
“Will informed me of something… important.”
Rin tilted her head, confused. What could Will have told him?
Stanford’s tone sharpened. “He noticed you have quite a few bruises and scratches. Is that true?”
Rin hesitated. “Y-yeah… I, um… I trip. A lot.”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m very good at spotting lies, Rin. And I know you’re not being honest with me. I’m trying to help you. You should understand that. Not everyone gets this chance—you’re lucky I found you before anyone else did.”
Rin’s eyes dropped. “S-sorry…”
“It’s fine,” he said curtly. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Where did the bruises come from?”
She fidgeted. “M-mommy said not to tell…”
That stopped him cold.
Stanford’s gaze darkened. It clicked in an instant.
“Rin,” he said, voice low and firm. “Have your parents ever hit you?”
Rin’s lip trembled. She didn’t want to answer, but something in his voice told her she had to.
“S-sometimes…”
Stanford’s jaw clenched. Rage simmered just beneath the surface, but he kept his voice controlled.
“I see. How often? Are there times when it gets worse?”
Rin bit her lip. “W-when I don’t do good in school…”
Of course. He could almost see it now—the bruises, the fear, the way she flinched even at gentle voices. Stanford wanted to storm out and find her parents that instant, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
“Rin,” he said finally, “we need to have a serious conversation. Do you understand?”
Rin nodded, her stomach twisting. “Y-yes…”
“Do you know what abuse is?”
She blinked. A vague memory stirred—something a counselor had said at school. Something about people hurting you when they’re not supposed to.
“K-kinda…”
Stanford’s expression didn’t soften. “Then I’ll ask you plainly. Would you say your parents are abusing you?”
Rin’s eyes widened. That word. Abusing.
No… They loved her… right?
But then again… they did hit her. A lot. And yell. And tell her she was a burden. And they’d left her. They left her.
She stared at the floor, her throat tight. She hadn’t noticed the tears until she felt them dripping down her cheeks.
Stanford’s voice cut through the fog. “Kid. Answer the question.”
She looked up at him, voice barely a whisper. “Y-yeah…”
The answer cracked something inside her. For the first time, she said it out loud. She was being abused.
Stanford exhaled slowly. He nodded once.
“I thought so. That means they didn’t lose you at my show. They abandoned you—on purpose.”
Her stomach flipped.
“I’m calling it,” Stanford said firmly. “The search is over. We’re not going to find your parents. You’re staying here. With me. Understood?”
Rin’s heart dropped. “N-no—w-what about… mommy? And daddy—?”
He held up a hand. “I know you don’t want to hear this. But it’s for your own safety. You can’t go back. I won’t allow it.”
She looked at him, wide-eyed and heartbroken—but deep down, she knew he was right.
She nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
She hated that he was right.

Chapter Text

It had been eight years since Stanford Gleeful took Rin in. Eight years since her parents had left her behind like an afterthought.
She was fifteen now.
The small, frightened girl who had once clung to his hand in the dark was long gone—replaced by someone sharper, colder. A young woman molded in her guardian’s image. Her hair, now tipped in striking blue, framed a face that rarely gave away what she was thinking. She dressed in tailored dark outfits, often matching Stanford’s own formal style. Calculated. Composed. Dangerous in her own way.
Rin had become a regular presence at Stanford’s magic shows—not as a spectator, but as part of the performance. She specialized in hypnosis acts, stepping out near the finale with quiet confidence and a piercing stare that commanded silence. The crowds loved her. But she didn’t perform for them. She performed for him.
And yet, for all the control and discipline, she and Stanford fought often. Their tempers clashed like blades. But neither ever apologized. They’d just move on, both pretending it didn’t matter.
Rin sat in her dressing room, applying a final touch of eyeliner under the bright vanity lights when the door creaked open.
Ford walked in without knocking. “Rin. I have a task for you tonight.”
She didn’t bother turning around. “What is it, Father?”
He stood behind her, arms folded, tall and imposing in the mirror’s reflection.
“I assume you’ve heard of Gideon Pines and Pacifica Southeast through your cousins?”
She nodded. Mason and Mabel had mentioned them before—always with irritation. “Yeah. They don’t like them.”
“Correct,” Ford said, voice measured. “Which is precisely why we need to get close to them.”
Rin raised an eyebrow. “Why? And why me?”
“Because they won’t trust me, and they certainly won’t trust your cousins. But you…” He met her gaze in the mirror. “You’re still largely unknown to them. A blank slate. They’ve only attended one of our shows, and you weren’t present that evening. You’re our advantage.”
Rin set her makeup brush down. “So… what? I just walk up and say, ‘Hey, I’m totally not a Gleeful spy, be my friend’?”
Ford’s lips curled into a smirk. “You’re more clever than that. Befriend them. Earn their trust. Make them believe you’re on their side.”
Rin leaned back, a smile creeping onto her face. “Good old-fashioned manipulation.”
Ford nodded, approving. “Indeed.”
Just then, Will poked his head in. “S-sir… five minutes.”
Ford turned slightly. “Is everything in place, Will?”
Will nodded quickly. “Y-yes, sir.”
Ford glanced at Rin one last time. “I expect nothing less than perfection tonight.” Then he was gone, disappearing down the hall like smoke.
Will lingered awkwardly, then stepped closer. “M-Miss Rin? A-are you ready…?”
She scoffed. “Of course I’m ready. What, you think I get stage fright like you?”
Will flinched slightly. “N-no, I just… we’re performing in a much larger venue tonight…”
Rin stood and straightened her collar. “Exactly. A perfect opportunity to prove my worth to Father.”
Will opened his mouth like he wanted to say something—maybe warn her, or comfort her—but stopped himself. He checked his pocket watch instead.
“I-it’s time.”
Rin brushed past him and made her way to the stage’s right wing. The theater buzzed with excitement as Stanford performed under golden light. His magic was not the cheap illusionist kind. It was real. And dangerous. She remembered the first time she’d seen him perform—how mesmerized she’d been.
Now, she barely felt it. She’d seen it all. The illusion no longer held the same shine.
Her moment came near the end. Her cue was precise. She stepped into the spotlight, meeting the eyes of the audience, commanding silence with a simple, quiet presence.
By the end of the act, both she and Stanford were slick with sweat, more from the mental strain than physical movement. They stood backstage, catching their breath.
Stanford dabbed his forehead with a towel. “Mediocre. It took you far too long to get the subject under.”
Rin’s eyes narrowed. “Sorry if I’m still learning.”
“Watch your tone, young lady.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Are we going home?”
“Not yet,” Ford replied, adjusting his cuffs. “Your cousins are doing one of their shows tonight.”
Rin groaned. “Why do we have to stay for that?”
He gave her a look. “Because it’s part of maintaining our family’s image. But if you’d rather not attend, I’ll allow you to leave—if you use the opportunity to locate Gideon and Pacifica.”
Rin’s posture straightened. “Very well. I’ll find them.”
Ford nodded, voice cold and final. “Good. Get close to them. Make them believe you’re their ally.”
Rin didn’t reply. She turned sharply on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, already slipping into character.
Time to play the part.

Chapter Text

Rin Gleeful stood outside Greasy’s Diner, staring up at the faded sign like it had personally insulted her. She hadn’t stepped foot in this greasy pit since she was a kid. Now, at fifteen, with access to lavish meals and formal banquets, the idea of entering this place again made her cringe.
But unfortunately, her targets weren’t exactly luxury clientele.
She sighed, straightened her blazer, and pushed open the door. The bell above jingled.
The smell hit her immediately—burnt bacon and fryer oil. She scanned the room, eyes sharp behind her composed smile. And there they were: Pacifica Southeast and Gideon Pines, sitting in a booth near the window.
Bingo.
She crossed the diner with practiced confidence, keeping her posture friendly but not too eager. Just approachable enough.
“Greetings,” she said smoothly, letting her voice rest somewhere between formal and casual.
Pacifica looked up from her menu and beamed. “Oh! Hi! I’m Pacifica Southeast, and this is my friend Gideon!”
Gideon flushed a bit—not out of affection, but clear annoyance. “Hiya. Name’s Gideon Pines…”
Rin offered a soft, practiced smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Rin.”
“You should sit with us!” Pacifica said, scooting over. “We don’t have many friends our age.”
Rin chuckled lightly. “Me either.”
As she slid into the booth, she glanced at the book Gideon was reading. Her breath hitched for a moment—but she masked it quickly. It was unmistakable.
Journal 3.
The cover was worn, but the seal was intact. Her father’s most important work… right here, in the hands of a teenager.
Gideon glanced up. “So uh… what brings you here?”
Rin leaned against the booth wall, folding her arms. “Here as in this diner, or here as in Gravity Falls?”
Pacifica and Gideon exchanged a glance. “Both,” Pacifica said.
Rin shrugged with a faint smile. “Curiosity, I guess. Plus, I needed friends.”
Gideon chuckled. “Can’t say we don’t relate. Folks ‘round here are nice enough, but we don’t exactly have real friends.”
Rin nodded, playing into it. “Yeah. I get that.”
Just then, Lazy Susan came over to take their orders. Rin scanned the menu quickly and ordered the safest, most average thing she could find—pancakes.
By the time she finished her meal, she was confident she'd sold the act. She wiped her mouth delicately with a napkin and stood.
“Well, I should be going. My father gets worried if I’m gone too long.”
Pacifica laughed lightly. “Mine too. Oh! Here—” She scribbled something on a napkin and handed it to Rin. “My number. So we can talk more!”
Rin smiled as she folded the napkin and tucked it into her pocket. “Thank you.”
Then she turned and walked out, leaving Pacifica and Gideon none the wiser.

When she returned home, it didn’t take long before she heard her name called through the mansion.
“Rin. My study. Now.”
She sighed. Of course.
Knocking once, she entered the dark wood-paneled room, lined with shelves of cursed books and artifacts. Stanford Gleeful sat behind his desk, peering over a stack of documents.
“You asked for me?” Rin said flatly.
Ford nodded, not looking up. “Have a seat.”
She sat stiffly across from him.
“I assume this is about my mission?”
“Indeed. How is it progressing?”
Rin pulled the napkin from her pocket and placed it on the desk. “So far, so good. I’ve acquired Pacifica’s number. They don’t suspect anything. They don’t even know I’m related to you.”
Ford finally looked up, smirking. “Excellent. Keep it that way.”
Rin nodded. “Of course, Father.”
She stood to leave, but his voice stopped her.
“And Rin?”
She paused.
“Don’t get attached.”
Her jaw clenched slightly. “Why would I?”
He didn’t answer, just gave her that unreadable look of his.
Rin turned back toward the door—but stopped. She hesitated, then slowly sat back down.
“There’s something I want to ask.”
Ford raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Rin folded her arms. “Why am I doing this? I mean, sure—it’s for information, but what information? You never told me the full reason. I think I deserve to know.”
Ford chuckled under his breath and closed the file he was reading. “I suppose you do, at that. Very well.”
He steepled his fingers. “I need the journal.”
Rin blinked. “The one Gideon had? That’s it? Couldn’t you just… take it?”
“I could,” Ford said, eyes narrowing. “But theft causes suspicion. And I have no interest in the town poking its nose into our affairs. A slow, quiet infiltration is far safer.”
Rin scoffed. “All that effort over some dumb book?”
Ford’s expression darkened. “It’s not some dumb book, Rin. It contains knowledge I need. Details about this town, its anomalies, and magic that even I can’t fully replicate.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should’ve just memorized it.”
His hand drifted toward the amulet resting at his collar, but Rin didn’t flinch. She knew the gesture was empty. For all his threats, he’d never hurt her—not after what her birth parents did. She was the one person in this world Ford Gleeful had chosen to protect.
Still, he glared. “Don’t test me, girl. Never forget who took you in.”
Rin met his stare, cold and unshaken.
“I haven’t,” she said.

Chapter Text

Rin awoke to the annoying buzz of her phone lighting up on her nightstand. She groaned, blindly swiping to silence it—but curiosity won. She cracked one eye open and scrolled through the messages.
[5 new messages from Paz 🌸]
“Heyyy! This is Pacifica! Btw you can call me Paz since we’re friends now :D”
“Gideon found something weird in the woods!! Wanna come check it out??”
“We’re meeting at Greasy’s again!! Diner crew unite!”
“Bring boots! Or not. I might just carry you through the mud LOL”
“Ok but fr I hope you come!!”
Rin rolled her eyes and smirked slightly at the same time.
Paz? Really? she thought, but her fingers were already typing.
“Sounds good. You can call me Rin. I’ll be there :)”
The smiley face wasn’t her style, but Pacifica’s tone was bubbly enough that leaving it out might seem cold. She hesitated… and hit send.
With a sigh, Rin slid out of bed. She picked through her closet for something that looked “casual,” which for her still meant high-quality but muted enough not to raise questions. She finally settled on a simple sweater, dark jeans, and worn boots—older, scuffed ones she’d never be caught dead wearing to a Gleeful event, but perfect for blending in.
She was just about to open her bedroom door when it slammed open—Mabel stood there, arms crossed, looking livid.
“Mabel,” Rin greeted, unamused. “To what do I owe this early-morning psychotic episode?”
Mabel shoved her back into the room and slammed the door shut behind them. “What do you think you’re doing hanging around my Gideon?!”
Rin blinked. Then gagged. “God, I forgot how obsessed you are with him.”
“He’s mine, Rin! Mine!” Mabel’s hand went to the amulet at her neck, the movement slow and threatening.
“I’m just following orders,” Rin said evenly, brushing past her. “This is Father’s assignment.”
“I don’t care!” Mabel snapped. “Don’t get too comfortable with him. I’m warning you.”
Rin narrowed her eyes. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
It looked like Mabel was about to lunge when—
“Breakfast!” Ford’s voice echoed through the hallway.
Saved by the bell.
The two girls trudged downstairs. Stanford sat at the head of the table, flipping through a thick volume. Stanley nursed a coffee with one hand and scratched his back with the other. Mason scrolled through his phone, already halfway through a bowl of sugary cereal. Will was quietly setting the table, his usual ghostlike presence filling in the background.
Ford looked up. “Ah. Decided to grace us with your presence.”
Rin slid into her chair gracefully. “Good morning, Father. Uncle Stanley. Mason.”
She picked at her food, eyes scanning every item on her plate. Habit. She never ate without checking. Some things stuck with you.
Stanley groaned. “You’re fifteen. Quit dissecting your eggs like they’re radioactive.”
“I’m simply ensuring I know what’s in them,” Rin replied flatly.
Stanley muttered, “Who doesn’t like a surprise every once in a while? You should’ve raised her looser, Poindexter.”
Ford didn’t look up. “She has sensory sensitivities, Stanley. I’ve told you this.”
“Sensitive. Right.” Stanley sipped his coffee, mumbling something under his breath.
Ford finally lowered his book. “Rin, any updates on your mission?”
“Yes.” Rin dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Pacifica told me she and Gideon are investigating something in the forest. I’ve been invited to join.”
Mabel immediately perked up. “Gideon?! Ooooh! Sweet, dearest cousin, since I’m soooo generous—do me a little favor?”
Rin didn’t look up. “When the hell have you ever been generous?”
Stanley choked on his coffee. Ford muttered again, “Language.”
Rin ignored both of them. “What do you want, Mabel?”
Mabel beamed. “Just give him this letter!” She pulled a heart-sticker-sealed envelope from her cardigan.
Rin stared at it like it was cursed. “You do realize that would blow my cover, right?”
Mabel huffed. “Ugh! I really wanted to confess this time!”
The room went quiet. Even Mason paused mid-scroll.
Rin stood, brushing off her coat. “Well. On that note, I’ll be heading out.”
As she reached the front door, Mabel’s voice rang out behind her.
“DON’T GET TOO CLOSE TO HIM!”
Rin didn’t turn around. She just sighed, opened the door, and stepped out.
The cold morning air hit her face as she descended the front steps.
Back to playing the part.

Chapter Text

Rin stood outside Greasy’s Diner, the morning sun glinting off the windows of the once-train-car-turned-greasy-spoon. She didn’t go in right away.
Instead, she stood on the steps, clutching her coat. This wasn’t just another social call—this was a game, and she needed to play her part well.
She mentally ran through her plan: Keep the focus on the journal. Steer the conversation toward the bunker. Act curious, but not too curious. Definitely not too smart. Just helpful, just sweet enough.
Her fingers curled around the chain at her neck.
The amulet.
She pulled it out from under her shirt and stared at it for a second. Maybe I could use it just a little, she thought. Just enough to nudge the odds her way. But… no. It had to be worn to activate. And wearing it in front of Gideon and Pacifica?
Way too risky.
She sighed and tucked it away into her coat pocket. Then she pushed the door open and walked inside, the bell above the door jingling cheerily.
“Rin!!!” Pacifica beamed, waving from a corner booth. “You made it! Oh—and we already ordered you pancakes. Hope that’s okay!”
Rin smiled—practiced, polished. The kind of smile she’d mastered at Gleeful galas.
“Perfect,” she said. “Thanks.”
The word felt awkward on her tongue. She didn’t say it often.
The three sat and ate, Pacifica filling most of the conversation space with chatter about school and town gossip. Rin let it pass over her like static until she saw her opening.
“So…” she said, casual as she could manage. “Gideon. What’s this thing you found in the forest?”
Gideon lit up. “Oh! It’s this old bunker! I found it half-buried under some vines. I cross-referenced the location with something from the journal—volume three—and I think it might be connected to the author!”
Rin tilted her head, feigning interest. “Really?”
Pacifica rolled her eyes. “Gid, you gotta relax. We don’t even know if the author’s still alive.”
Rin chuckled along with her, though the irony nearly made her choke. Alive? Oh, definitely. He’s probably alphabetizing curses in his study right now.
“I still think we should check it out,” Gideon added enthusiastically.
Rin finished another bite of pancake, chewing slowly to mask her smile. “Yeah. Could be interesting.”
Then her phone buzzed.
She frowned, glancing at the screen. “Sorry. Probably my dad. I’ll be right back.”
Pacifica gave a thumbs-up. “Take your time! We’ll be here.”
Rin slid out of the booth and stepped outside. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she answered.
“Father.”
Ford’s voice came through like ice over a radio signal. “How is the mission progressing?”
She leaned against the outer wall, glancing through the diner window. Gideon and Pacifica were laughing about something. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like if they actually were her friends.
“It’s going fine,” she said. “We’re heading to the bunker soon.”
There was a pause. Too long.
Then: “I see… Be careful.”
That gave Rin pause. Concern wasn’t foreign from Ford—not to her—but it wasn’t common, either. It came in strange shapes. Warnings. Orders. Not softness.
She chuckled quietly. “I’m not seven anymore, you know.”
Ford didn’t reply to that. But she could almost hear the memory they both shared—the night he found her, small and shaking under the stage lights.
“Don’t press the red button,” he said.
That made her blink. “What?”
“In the bunker,” he added. “Don’t press the red button.”
Rin smirked. “You know if you tell me not to do something—”
“I know,” Ford snapped. “But this one’s not a game, Rin. That button controls a cryo-lock. I can’t let it escape.”
Rin’s expression darkened. “It?”
There was silence on the other end. Ford didn’t answer.
Instead, he deflected. “The twins are arguing again. Loudly. It may turn physical.”
Rin rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”
He ignored the comment. “I have to go. Just—don’t be reckless. Not this time.”
She softened a bit. “Okay. But maybe don’t call me so much while I’m with them. It’s… obvious.”
Ford didn’t respond. He hung up without another word.
Rin stared at the screen for a moment, then slid the phone back into her coat.
She took a breath. Straightened her posture.
Time to get back to playing the friend.