Wiley felt a familiar weight on his shoulders as he ventured into unknown territory once more. The night was cool, the streets of Lake View dimly lit by the occasional flickering streetlamp. He was determined to speak with Thalita before the diner closed, driven by the need to uncover the truths that had eluded him.
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Thalita Granger was hard to miss. Fierce, unapologetic, and bold, she never failed to speak her mind. She stood at about 5'7", with a strong, athletic build that spoke of resilience and determination. Her soft, hazel-blonde curls framed her face, often tied back in a ponytail to keep it out of her piercing blue eyes. Those eyes held a defiance that was impossible to ignore, a reflection of the fire that burned within her.
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Her style was practical yet expressive—often sporting leather jackets, ripped jeans, and combat boots. Thalita wore her convictions on her sleeve, quite literally, with patches and pins that championed social justice causes. She harboured deep resentment for the elite families of Bloomfield, and her disdain for the elite crew was palpable. Driven by a sense of social injustice and the unfair socioeconomics that plagued her community, Thalita was a proactive voice for the politics of Bloomfield. She was daring and challenging, never backing down from a fight, and her resolve to hate anyone from Bloomfield was unyielding. Wiley was no exception.
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The diner came into view, a flickering neon sign casting a dim glow on the cracked pavement. Wiley hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, the bell above jingling softly. The familiar scent of grease and coffee hit him as he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for Thalita.
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There she was, behind the counter, cleaning up for the night. She glanced up as he approached, her expression hardening the moment she recognized him.
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"What are you doing here again?" Thalita's voice was sharp, cutting through the ambient noise of the diner.
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Wiley took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I need to talk to you. It's important."
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Thalita crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. "Important for you or important for me? Because I've got nothing to say to some privileged kid from Bloomfield."
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Wiley flinched at her words but held his ground. "It's about the elite crew. I need your help to uncover the truth."
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Thalita's eyes narrowed. "Why should I help you? You're just like the rest of them, aren't you?"
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"No," Wiley insisted, his voice firm. "I'm not like them. I need to know what you know, Thalita. Please."
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For a moment, Thalita studied him, the fire in her eyes never waning. She hated the elite families, and here was one of their own, asking for her help. But something in Wiley's tone, the desperation, and sincerity, made her pause.
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"Then tell me, do you not live in Bloomfield?"
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"Well, not in the community itself, a little on the outskirts to the north."
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Thalita’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. "That's even worse. That means you’re the son of one of the founding families, doesn’t it?"
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Wiley shook his head. "No, I’m not. We moved here a few months ago. We live in the Ferucchis’ old house."
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At this, something sparked in Thalita’s eyes—hope, perhaps, or a fleeting sense of nostalgia. "The Ferucchis’ old house?" she repeated, her tone softening slightly. "If the Ferucchis were still around, Lake View would still be a prosperous community. People wouldn’t suffer the way they do now."
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For a moment, Wiley felt a sense of pride in being of Ferucchi blood, yet unable to reveal his identity, he focused on her expression. He thought he saw a glimmer of understanding, but Thalita’s expression hardened again. "But you’re associated with Olivia Cuthbert, aren’t you? That makes you a different kind of evil, new or not."
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Wiley sighed, realizing he was fighting an uphill battle. "I’m not like them, Thalita. They tried to ruin my sister’s reputation by causing a public spectacle. I can never forgive them. They’re not who I thought they were. I just need answers, and you’re the only one I can think of who wouldn’t worry about defying them. Please."
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Thalita’s gaze remained steely. What he asked had its price in her own life. She knew that someday the day would come for their retribution, but her promise to her kin wouldn’t allow her to be it. "Is it the video about Graeme Yorkley and Jae Starling? Is the girl in that video your sister?”
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She had seen it and the follow-up video of Kayetana, whom she couldn’t shake—her appearance a striking resemblance to the woman who held such significant history in their community.
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“You saw that? Wait, you know Jae and Graeme?” A look of shock plastered over Wiley’s face.
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“Everyone around here knows the founding families. And Jae and Graeme were two names that went together like peanut butter and jelly. Those two were inseparable and clearly, the worst enemies now.” Thalita turned back to her work, her movements brisk and efficient.
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This was news to him. “I didn’t know. What happened between them?”
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Thalita turned around, shooting a piercing gaze at Wiley. “You seriously are clueless. I could tell you, but why should I? This vengeance of yours isn’t my problem anyway.”
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Just when he thought they were making progress, she hit him with a side note. Frustratedly, he sighed. “What would make you tell me, then? Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it.”
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Thalita thought of the most impossible thing to ask for, something he couldn’t possibly have authority over. “I want you to get my foster mom a job, something long-term. And for my foster dad, he’s been working the mines of the founding families for years. A raise or perhaps a higher position at his job would make my tongue looser.” She contemplated. “Yes, I want that in return for information.” She turned around, smirking, hoping that he would take the hint finally.
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“Okay,” he said, knowing well that his father was re-opening the east mines—he had seen the documents, and his father had actively discussed his plan. “How about a foreman job at the Ferucchi mines? I can do that much. And as for your mom, give me a day or two and I’ll have something for her.”
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She spun around, eyes wide in shock. He stared into hers, searching for any sign of mockery, but there was none. He was serious. “What?”
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“I’ll see you in two days. Your demands will be met, and I’ll expect your full cooperation.”
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As much as they needed the money and her foster mom needed the job, she was beginning to regret having said anything. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m something you can buy?” Her eyes narrowed further. “You people come here, triumph on the backs of the hard-working folk of Lake View, thinking money could solve all your problems as you sit in your high castles made of glass, throwing stones at the very people that put you there!”
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Wiley was shocked at her outburst and quite frankly very confused. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong. He had only tried to meet her demands, desperately trying to uncover any information that could help him.
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“Why are you mad at me? I just wanted to help.” His voice was confused and gentle.
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She turned away, unable to meet his eyes. "You don't get it, do you?" Her voice quivered with frustration and something deeper, something she wasn't ready to name. The room seemed to shrink around them as the silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words and misunderstood intentions.
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Wiley took a step closer, his voice softening. "No, I don't get it. But I want to. Help me understand, Thalita."
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Thalita took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to lash out. "You come here with your promises, your solutions. You think just because you offer a job or a raise, everything will be okay. But it's not about money. It's about respect, dignity, a sense of fairness. It's about acknowledging the struggles we go through every day."
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Wiley watched her, taking in the anger and pain in her eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect you or your family. I just thought... I thought maybe if I met your demands, you'd see that I'm sincere. That I really do want to make things right."
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Thalita sighed, the fire in her eyes dimming slightly. "It's not that simple. It's never that simple. You can't just fix things with a job or a raise. There's so much more at stake here."
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"I know," Wiley said quietly. "But I have to start somewhere. If helping your family can be that start, then I want to do it."
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Thalita studied him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "Alright. Two days, then. If you keep your word, I'll help you. But don't think this changes anything between us. I still don't trust you. Not yet."
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Wiley nodded, relief washing over him. "I understand. Thank you."
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Thalita turned back to her work, her movements more measured now. "Don't thank me yet. We'll see if you can really deliver."
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Wiley left the diner, the encounter with Thalita adding another layer to his quest. He felt a flicker of hope but knew that earning Thalita’s trust and uncovering the secrets of the elite crew would be no easy feat. The weight of his journey pressed heavily on him, but he was one step closer to finding the truth.
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Beatrice Burchart navigated the early Saturday morning with a sense of purpose and excitement. Today, she was making breakfast for her family, something she rarely had time for amidst their busy schedules. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the kitchen as she busied herself with the preparations.
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She called over one of the maids. “Could you set the table, please? I’ll run upstairs to call the family down for breakfast.”
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The maid nodded, and Beatrice hurried up the grand staircase, her heart light with the anticipation of sharing the news she had received. She knocked on Wiley’s door first.
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“Wiley, breakfast is ready. Come down soon. I have some exciting news to share.”
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Next, she went to Kayetana’s room. “Kaye, sweetheart, come down for breakfast. You won’t want to miss this.”
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Finally, she reached the master bedroom. “Victor, dear, breakfast is ready. Let’s join the children.”
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The family gathered around the breakfast table, the atmosphere warm and filled with the comforting sounds of clinking cutlery and hushed conversation. Beatrice couldn’t hold back her excitement any longer.
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“I have wonderful news,” she announced, her eyes sparkling. “A letter arrived this morning from the High Society. It’s addressed to my lovely children. The meeting for the High Society Gala Preparations is set for tomorrow at noon.”
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Wiley and Kayetana exchanged glances, both feigning interests. While the news didn’t genuinely excite them, the joy on their mother’s face was enough reason to pretend otherwise. By this time, the dread that Kayetana once felt towards the even was slowly creeping in again, she had other things on her mind, as her day involved an investigation fee with her loyal partner, Stasi.
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“This is exciting,” Kayetana said with a practiced smile, her voice a hint of her usual sarcasm. “I can’t wait to see what this event has instore. I bet it’s going to be exciting.”
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Victor nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s an important step for both of you. The gala will be an opportunity to make significant connections and contribute meaningfully to our community.”
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The gala was an event started hundreds of years ago, he still remembered how, back in high school, he was forced by his own mother to engage in these events, never knowing back than how crucial it would be to his future. Back then, the laws were different, the high society gala wasn’t simply an introduction into High Society but also the debut of potential wives and husbands, forged by the cunning minds of parents and their social standing, simmering with alliances and potential arranged marriages. Back then, he was betrothed to someone else and Beatrice, a complete stranger.
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As they continued their breakfast, Wiley casually brought up his recent visit to Lake View. “Dad, I went to Lake View yesterday. I was curious about the area and wanted to see it for myself.”
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Victor looked up, interest piqued. “And what did you find?”
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“The conditions there are terrible,” Wiley said, his voice tinged with concern. “The community is struggling, and the living conditions are poor. It’s nothing like Bloomfield.”
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Beatrice’s brow furrowed in sympathy. “I had no idea things were so dire in Lake View. We should certainly do something.”
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An idea began to form in her mind, and she turned to Kayetana. “What if we used your debut at the High Society Gala as a means to give back to Lake View? We could include philanthropic activities that directly benefit the community. It would not only help those in need but also reflect positively on you, Kaye.”
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Kayetana’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, finally something non superficial was being discussed. “I love that idea, Mom. It would be wonderful to make a real difference. Wiley, would you take me to Lake View after the meeting tomorrow? I want to see it for myself. I can’t go today, I already have plans with Stasi.”
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The family was surprised by how quickly Kaye had adapted to their new life, she was most vocal about her dissatisfaction with settling down. The first few month a stark contrast to the sudden change in her character and behaviour. Yet, it was the mention of Anastasia Fraser that earned the nervous glances exchange between her parents.
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Wiley nodded, a sense of purpose filling him. “Of course. I’ll take you there. Also, dad, I have a business proposal. How about we use the locals of Lake View to work the mines. We get a foreman and allow him to put together his own team of trusted workers. What do you think?”
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A sense of pride filled Victor. In the few weeks of knowing their heritage, Wiley had shown a great interest in the business and family matters -he was growing up. He barely went out anymore and gave the reasoning that if he was to someday takeover, the family should come first. He wondered if things would have been different back then, when he himself was a mere teenager, coddled and raised with a silver spoon. A typical nepotist that knew he would eventually acquire the family wealth -thus, not bringing the urgency to be more involved his father’s dealings.
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“I like the idea,” He was also vigilant to discuss any Ferucchi related matters in the presence of his daughter, it wasn’t time to disclose to her the truth yet, “I heard the Ferucchi’s had a great deal in maintaining the work force in Lake View, when they were in power. We should discuss it more later.”
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Victor listened quietly as his wife tried to impose her own ideals onto their daughter, understanding the deeper implications of his wife’s suggestion. He knew Beatrice had a calculated reason for wanting their daughter to undertake this project, but he also saw the genuine desire to help a community that had once been of significant importance to his family.
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“This is a good plan,” Victor said, his voice steady. “We’ll support you, Kaye. And Wiley, thank you for bringing this to our attention.”
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As they finished their breakfast, the Burchart family felt a renewed sense of purpose and unity. The upcoming High Society Gala and their efforts to help Lake View promised to be a defining moment for them all.
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