The Heist Before Christmas

Chapters 1-3

Riley finds the envelope tucked among the holiday clutter, and the moment she reads it the season's warmth drains out of the room. It's a final notice: Santiago Investigations' private investigator license will be revoked by the end of the year. The discovery flips a switch in her. One minute she's absorbed in holiday tasks, the small comforting rituals of wrapping and decorating that have always made the season feel safe, the next she's in a quiet panic, guilt pressing down on her because this is her family's livelihood and it has been quietly expiring while she wrapped presents and strung lights. The paper in her hand represents not a bureaucratic hiccup but the potential end of everything the Santiago name has built, and the weight of that realization crashes down on her all at once. She wants to fix it, immediately, and the urgency is written all over her, in the tightness of her voice and the frantic energy of someone who has just discovered a fire burning in the next room while everyone around her continues to admire the decorations.

Nick, meanwhile, wants none of it. He's in the middle of decorating and his instinct is to keep the mood light, to keep the tinsel and the music going and not let paperwork ruin the evening. The holidays are his season, the one time of year when the work can wait and the house can feel like something other than a case file, and he is determined to protect that atmosphere from anything that threatens to darken it. When Riley brings him the notice, he waves off the threat, dismissing the license problem as something less serious than she's making it, treating her alarm as an overreaction rather than a legitimate response to a genuine crisis. His refusal to match her alarm costs her exactly what she needs most in that moment: reassurance and a sense that someone is going to act. Instead she's left holding the panic alone while he goes back to the decorations, the sound of his cheerful humming a stark contrast to the dread settling in her chest.

Riley tries again. She wants Nick to understand what's actually at stake, that a revoked license isn't a bureaucratic inconvenience but the end of the business her family has built, the livelihood that has sustained them and the legacy that carries her family's name into the world. She needs him to see that this is not a problem that can be set aside or minimized, that the clock is ticking and the consequences are real and permanent. Nick doesn't engage with the stakes. He insists it can wait until after his undercover gig, and the gap between them widens into real frustration. For Riley the clock is already running, every day bringing the revocation closer while nothing gets done; for Nick the problem is something to be dealt with later, once his job is done, a task to be added to a list rather than a crisis demanding immediate attention. Neither of them moves, and the argument settles into a stalemate that leaves her more isolated than before, the distance between them measured not in words but in the fundamental difference in how they see the world and what they prioritize.

Then Nick leaves. He has an undercover job to get to, and he kisses Riley goodbye on his way out the door, handing the entire situation off to her with the casual ease of someone who believes he has done enough by acknowledging the problem exists. Whatever reassurance she hoped to get from him walks out with him, and the door closing behind him feels like a verdict. She's now alone with the license notice, the holiday mess, and her grandmother on the way, the weight of everything pressing down on her shoulders with no one to help carry it.

Elanora Arrives

Elanora sweeps in and immediately sets about asserting control over Riley's household. She has opinions about how things should be done and no hesitation about imposing them, and her arrival turns the house into territory to be contested, every corner and every habit subject to her scrutiny and her judgment. Riley is thrown into damage control, trying to keep the visit from becoming a full inspection of her life, scrambling to present a version of her existence that will pass muster under her grandmother's exacting gaze.

The problem is Gabe. Riley wants him hidden from Elanora, and when her grandmother's scrutiny closes in, she improvises a lie: she tells Elanora she's been testing her powers. It's a cover story that buys Gabe his invisibility, but it also commits Riley to something she can't walk back. She has just promised her grandmother a demonstration of power testing, and now she'll have to produce one, the lie creating its own set of obligations that will have to be satisfied before the visit is over.

Riley's next move is to get Elanora out the door as fast as possible. She offers tea, hoping the ritual of hospitality will speed the visit along, that the familiar comfort of a shared cup will satisfy whatever obligation has brought her grandmother to her door and send her on her way. Instead Elanora issues exacting demands about how she takes it, and Riley is sent scrambling to meet specifications she didn't anticipate, the simple act of making tea transformed into another test she is failing to pass. The tea, meant to be a shortcut, becomes another arena where Elanora holds the upper hand, another opportunity for her grandmother to demonstrate that nothing in this house happens without her approval.

Needing both backup and a warning, Riley texts Wander. The reply gives her something she didn't expect: Elanora has not yet visited her sister. It's a small piece of intelligence, but it tells Riley the visit is not part of some larger family circuit. Elanora came here, to her, first, and that raises the question of what she actually wants, why she has chosen to begin whatever tour this is with Riley rather than with anyone else. The answer, whatever it is, cannot be good.

With Elanora momentarily occupied, Riley turns to Gabe. She wants him to stay hidden, and she extracts a promise from him: ice cream in exchange for her cover story holding. It's a small bargain, almost playful, but it binds him to the lie she's already told and gives her one less thing to worry about, a small victory in a day that has offered precious few of them.

The Household Under Siege

Riley wants the household calm, and that means dealing with Lily. She confronts her about a small fire and about cigar night, warning her to behave until Elanora leaves. The confrontation is about containment: Riley can handle her grandmother or she can handle a chaotic house, but not both at once, and Lily's antics threaten to blow the visit open, to expose the carefully constructed facade Riley is trying to maintain. Every demand Riley makes is a plea for cooperation, for just a few hours of peace, for the chance to get through this visit without everything falling apart.

Lily, undeterred, wants to talk about the wedding cake. Riley defers it. The conversation is a small thing on its own, but it shows exactly what the visit is costing: even the wedding plans, the happy business of the household, are being pushed aside while Elanora is in residence. Riley can't give Lily an answer because every ounce of her attention is going into managing her grandmother, and the things that should be bringing joy are instead becoming another source of stress, another item on a list that grows longer by the minute.

So Riley returns with the tea, bracing herself for what Elanora actually wants. The visit so far has been demands and scrutiny and a lie about power testing, and Riley walks back into the room knowing the tea was never the point, that her grandmother's presence here is about something larger and more complicated than a simple social call.

Riley wants the visit to be brief. She has things to do, and her grandmother's unannounced arrival at the office already has her on edge, the disruption to her already fragile sense of control compounding the stress of everything else. But Elanora is not there for pleasantries. She confronts Riley directly over skipping the Psychics Guild gathering, and the accusation lands with the weight of an obligation Riley has been dodging, a duty she has been avoiding and hoping would go unmentioned. Under that pressure, Riley agrees to attend, the concession extracted before she has time to mount a defense.

Then Elanora adds her condition: bring Gabriel. The pointed certainty in her grandmother's voice, the way she seems to know exactly where he is and what he has been doing, makes Riley go cold. Elanora knows more than she should, and the realization that her grandmother's knowledge extends beyond what Riley has told her is deeply unsettling. Riley tries to defend herself, to explain that her office manager responsibilities are real and demanding, that she is not simply neglecting her duties out of carelessness, but Elanora dismisses them outright as distractions. The gifts come first. They must come first. Riley's protests shrink under the older woman's certainty, her arguments reduced to nothing in the face of her grandmother's unwavering conviction.

Elanora presses further, demanding the truth about the "wedding drama." Riley hedges, but her grandmother's warning cuts through everything: the wedding isn't going to happen. The words leave Riley shaken, the ground shifting under a day that was already unsteady, a prophecy or a threat or simply a statement of fact delivered with the same certainty Elanora brings to everything.

Riley wants nothing more than to escape the confrontation, to end the conversation and breathe, to find some corner of the house where she can collect herself and process everything that has just been said. Instead, the flying coat gives Gabe away. His hiding spot is exposed in the most humiliating way possible, and Riley stands there, caught between her grandmother's knowing gaze and the man who thought he could conceal himself, the absurdity of the moment somehow making it worse. Elanora delivers a final judgment on her way out, calling Riley's life mediocre, and then offers a pointed goodbye to Gabriel, confirming she knew he was there the entire time. The door closes, and Riley collapses against the wall, the strength draining out of her. She turns on Gabe, confronting him over hiding from her grandmother, the humiliation and frustration of the visit finally finding a target.

The Mall Assignment

Across town, Nick is determined to keep his holiday mood intact, but the season refuses to cooperate. He has to kick a security robot out of his way before he can even start the undercover shift, a small indignity that sets the tone for everything that follows. When he gathers his team, he wants them focused on the mall theft case. Instead, Josie, Brian, and Mrs. Penny complain about the assignment, their reluctance forcing him to re-explain the briefing from the top, the repetition eating into time he doesn't have and patience he is struggling to maintain.

Nick wants them to understand the stakes, so he lays it out: the mall's security contractor lost its license, and the guards now on duty are untrained. That is why his team is needed, the gap in competence creating an opportunity that only they can fill. Mrs. Penny, however, wants to impress everyone with her cover story, and her absurd tale of "Rhonda El Baio" derails the briefing entirely, setting Nick's eye twitching, the ridiculousness of the performance threatening to undermine the seriousness of the operation before it has even begun. He tries to keep communications covert, but Mrs. Penny shouts into the sensitive earpiece, and both Nick and Josie yank theirs out in pain, the operation descending further into chaos with every passing moment.

Nick wants the team motivated for the first shift, so he dangles an incentive: no work until after Christmas if they catch the thief. That finally gets Josie moving, the promise of freedom cutting through the apathy that has characterized the briefing until now.

Khadijah's Warning

Khadijah wants the thefts solved before Christmas, and her reasons are personal. Her bonus and her job are on the line, the stakes for her as concrete and immediate as they are for anyone in the operation. She confronts Nick about his team's conspicuous behavior, worried that their presence is drawing exactly the wrong kind of attention, that the very people sent to solve the problem are instead making it worse by being noticed. She also wants Nick warned about the store's assistant manager, and she reveals that Gottfried is hospitalized, leaving Ashley Hamil in charge. Nick tries to reassure her that he can handle the assignment, but Donny's public insult and Khadijah's open doubt hang over the conversation. His confidence may be misplaced, and everyone in the room seems to know it.

Chapters 4-6

Nick confronts Ashley over the cologne spray, wanting respect as a new employee, but Ashley asserts authority and forces Nick to submit to the required scent or lose the job. Nick hoped a calm, professional conversation might earn him some dignity on his first day, but Ashley's response makes clear that dignity is not on the menu. The exchange changes the terms of Nick's employment: he is not a colleague but a subordinate who must comply or be gone. Nick rehearsed the conversation on the drive over, imagining a reasonable exchange between two adults, perhaps a compromise, perhaps an apology, perhaps even a laugh. What he gets instead is Ashley holding the bottle like a weapon and explaining, with exaggerated patience, that the scent is mandatory, that the uniform is mandatory, that everything about Nick's presence at Man Cave is conditional and revocable. The cologne is not really about cologne. It is about who gets to decide, and Ashley has decided that he decides. Nick sprays it on because the alternative is walking out before his first shift ends, and he needs the paycheck more than he needs the argument. The smell settles over him, and in that single gesture his job changes: he is not a colleague but a subordinate who must comply or be gone.

Ashley gets in Nick's face and insults his outfit and lateness, wanting to establish dominance, which costs Nick his composure and nearly triggers a fight. Ashley crowds him, cataloging every flaw in Nick's appearance and punctuality as if reading charges from a docket. He starts with the shirt, which he calls an insult to the concept of retail, then moves to the shoes, which he describes as a cry for help, then lands on the lateness, which he treats as a personal betrayal rather than a scheduling fact. Nick's jaw tightens and his hands curl, and for a moment the only thing standing between the two men is the narrow gap Ashley has deliberately closed. The proximity is the point. Ashley wants Nick to feel the heat of his breath, to smell the cologne he has just been forced to wear, to understand that there is no version of this job in which Nick gets to stand at a comfortable distance. Nick's composure cracks along a hairline seam, and his body prepares for something his brain has not yet authorized. The fight does not happen, but it comes close enough that the air between them feels different.

Josie interrupts the confrontation, wanting to defuse the tension, which forces Nick to fake professionalism and changes the dynamic. She steps between them with a clipboard and a cheerful voice, pretending not to notice the near-violence she has walked into. Her timing is either miraculous or practiced, and Nick suspects the latter. She asks Ashley about a shipment and Nick about a display, distributing tasks like a dealer distributing cards, and the ordinary rhythm of retail work reasserts itself over the standoff. Nick swallows his anger and performs calm, and the arrival of a witness shifts the balance: Ashley can no longer push without an audience, and Nick can no longer swing without one. Josie's cheerfulness is a shield she holds up for both of them, and Nick accepts the protection even as he resents needing it. The dynamic changes because there are now three people in the room instead of two, and the presence of a third makes certain kinds of violence impossible and certain kinds of cruelty quieter.

Ashley harasses Josie with crude flirting, wanting to assert his sexual prowess, which disgusts both Nick and Josie and escalates Nick's rage. He leans against the counter and makes comments that are meant to be charming and land as leering, his eyes doing half the talking. He compliments her in ways that are not compliments. He asks questions that are not questions. He behaves like a man who believes his attention is a gift women should be grateful to receive. Josie's smile goes flat and Nick's fists tighten again, and the harassment binds the two of them together in shared revulsion while pushing Nick closer to the edge. Josie has clearly endured this before, and her endurance is its own kind of indictment. Nick watches her absorb the comments with a professional blankness that makes him angrier than the comments themselves, because it means she has had practice. The harassment does not stop the work, but it poisons the air around it, and Nick's rage climbs another notch toward a ceiling he is not sure he can keep respecting.

Mrs. Penny reports a Code Nutcracker over the earpiece, wanting backup for a chase, which briefly distracts Nick and Josie and gives them a moment of shared exasperation. Her voice crackles through with the urgency of a nature documentary narrator describing a squirrel on the loose. The code is absurd, the situation is absurd, and the absurdity is briefly liberating. Nick and Josie exchange a look of mutual exhaustion, and for a few seconds the crisis gives them something to share besides Ashley's presence. They are both tired, both underpaid, both dealing with a man who treats the store like his personal kingdom, and the shared look says all of this without a word. The Code Nutcracker is a false alarm waiting to happen, but in the moment it arrives it functions as a small vacation from the tension, a reminder that there is a world outside the counter and the cologne and the leering.

Ashley grabs Nick by the shirt and declares himself acting manager, wanting to claim commission and authority, which forces Nick to choose between punching him and keeping the job. His fist knots in the fabric and he announces the promotion as if it were a fact of nature, his grin daring Nick to dispute it. The fabric twists in Ashley's grip and Nick feels the seams strain, and the physical contact is a line crossed that cannot be uncrossed. Ashley explains that as acting manager he will be entitled to commission on sales, which means every sale Nick makes is now partially Ashley's, which means Nick's labor is feeding the man who is holding his shirt. Nick's free hand balls up, and the choice crystallizes: strike and lose everything, or absorb the humiliation and stay employed. The job is not worth much, but it is worth something, and the something is more than the satisfaction of breaking Ashley's nose. The moment stretches, and Nick makes his choice without quite deciding to make it.

Nick restrains himself from punching Ashley, wanting to solve the case and get home, which costs him his pride and forces him to accept Ashley's terms. He unclenches his hand and lets the shirt go slack, thinking of the case file and the apartment waiting for him. The case is the reason he is here, the case is the thing that will get him out of here, and the case requires him to remain employed long enough to do the work. He thinks about the file on his desk, the notes he has made, the leads he has not yet followed, and the thought of all that work going to waste because he could not control his temper is what finally cools him. The restraint buys him his job but spends his pride, and it locks him into Ashley's terms for the rest of the shift. Ashley releases his shirt with a little pat, as if congratulating him on his good sense, and Nick absorbs the pat the way he has absorbed everything else today.

Josie reports the Code Nutcracker was a false alarm, wanting to update the team, which dashes Nick's hope of a quick resolution and confirms he must endure the shift. Her voice comes over the earpiece with the flatness of someone delivering bad news to a friend. The false alarm means there is no emergency to distract Ashley, no crisis to pull Nick away, no excuse to leave the floor. The shift stretches out ahead of him like a road with no exits, and Ashley is standing in the middle of it. The false alarm closes the last escape hatch, and Nick resigns himself to hours of Ashley with no rescue in sight. Josie's voice is apologetic, as if she personally arranged for the squirrel to be a false alarm, and Nick wants to tell her it is not her fault, but Ashley is already talking again and the moment passes.

Nick agrees to clean the glass and warns Ashley about bloodstains, wanting to maintain control, which establishes a tense truce and changes their power dynamic. He picks up the spray and cloth and mentions, almost casually, that blood is much harder to get out of grout than glass. The warning lands, Ashley's smirk flickers, and the two men settle into a truce in which Nick has quietly claimed the upper hand on at least one subject. The subject is violence, and the upper hand is the knowledge of what violence leaves behind. Nick has cleaned up after fights before. He has seen what blood does to surfaces. He has learned the practical chemistry of aftermath, and he shares this knowledge with Ashley in a tone that is helpful on the surface and menacing underneath. Ashley does not respond, but his smirk flickers, and the flicker is enough. The truce is not friendship and not respect, but it is a temporary settlement in which Nick has established that he knows things Ashley does not, and the knowledge is a kind of power.

Nick texts Riley about his day, wanting connection and dinner plans, which reveals his frustration and sets up their evening meeting. He types out a summary of Ashley's offenses and sends it before he can think better of it, the phone a small lifeline to a world where people behave reasonably. The summary is not dignified, but it is honest, and honesty with Riley is a luxury he can afford. Her reply promises dinner and a listening ear, and the exchange gives him something to survive the shift for. The phone buzzes with her response and Nick reads it twice, the way he reads things that matter. Dinner is a destination, a fixed point in the future, and the fixed point makes the present bearable. He puts the phone away and picks up the cloth, and the shift continues, but it continues differently now that there is an end to it.

Milton the toddler smashes into Nick's clean window, wanting to escape his father, which ruins Nick's work and forces him to clean again. The boy hits the glass at a dead run, face first, and leaves a smear of fingerprints and breath across the freshly polished surface. Nick watches his work vanish in an instant and picks up the cloth again, the universe confirming its opinion of his day. Milton's father is somewhere behind him, apologizing in the distracted way of a man who has given up on controlling his child, and Milton himself is already running toward another part of the store. The window is a canvas for chaos, and Nick is the janitor of chaos, and the job is to clean the canvas so chaos can happen again. He sprays and wipes and watches the smear disappear, and the disappearance is briefly satisfying in a way that almost makes up for the destruction.

Sheila advises Nick to call custodial, wanting to help, which gives Nick the idea to summon Josie and amuses him. She pats his arm and tells him there is no shame in delegating, and something in her tone lights a small, wicked bulb in his mind. He pages Josie for the cleanup, and the petty satisfaction of making her deal with Milton's handiwork is the first thing that has amused him all day. Josie is not responsible for Milton, but she is responsible for the floor, and the floor is where Milton's handiwork lives. The page is a small act of revenge against the universe, and the universe does not notice, but Nick notices, and the noticing is enough. He watches Josie arrive with her clipboard and her resigned expression, and he feels a flicker of something that is not quite guilt and not quite glee.

Riley arrives at Man Cave and meets Ashley, wanting to pick up Nick, but Ashley harasses her with crude advances, which disgusts her and nearly triggers Nick's violence. Ashley turns his charm on her the moment she walks in, and the comments are worse than the ones he aimed at Josie. Riley is new material, and Ashley is a man who enjoys new material, and he works through his repertoire with the enthusiasm of a performer who believes his audience has never heard the jokes before. Riley's face goes cold and Nick's vision narrows, and his hands are halfway to fists before he remembers where he is. The remembering is the only thing that stops him, and the stopping is the only thing that keeps the job, and the job is the only thing that keeps the case alive. Riley does not flinch, but she does not have to, because Nick is flinching for her, and the flinch is visible in the set of his shoulders and the angle of his jaw.

Riley confronts Ashley with psychic knowledge of his humiliations, wanting to shut him down, which stuns Ashley and temporarily deflates his bravado. She speaks with a calm certainty that catches him off guard, naming things about him he thought were hidden. Ashley's grin falters and his posture shifts, and for a moment he is the one on the back foot. The bravado drains out of him, and the silence that follows belongs to Riley.

Chapters 7-10

Nick calls his mother with a single goal: getting her to commit to Christmas Eve dinner. He doesn't leave her room to maneuver. He confirms the schedule with her cousins himself, then presses her with the confirmation in hand, making clear she has no excuse left to refuse. The pressure works exactly as badly as it might. She hangs up on him. The call is meant to lock in the holiday plan, and instead it ends with the line dead and the dinner still unsettled.

Riley takes the opposite view of the families altogether. She tells Nick she thinks their relatives may simply never get along, and that he should accept it rather than fight it. Nick refuses. He overrides her pessimism with confidence, insisting that once the marriage happens, their families will have no choice but to behave. The disagreement sets the tone for the days ahead: Riley braced for friction, Nick determined that the holiday will bend to his will. Riley's warning is meant to lower expectations before they can be disappointed, and Nick's answer is meant to shut the warning down. Neither of them moves, and the gap between their expectations stays open going into the holiday.

That same determination turns toward Riley herself when Nick wants her to join movie night. She refuses, choosing to stay with her paperwork instead. Nick doesn't let it go quietly. He calls her Scrooge, and he doesn't stop there. He extracts a promise from her that she will be festive for the rest of the week. She gives it, but the concession is verbal only. Nick wants her present with the household and uses the tease and the promise to pull her in. Riley wants to keep working and gives him the words without the intention, so the promise costs her nothing in the moment and commits her to nothing afterward.

Riley's actions don't match her promise. Rather than joining the household festivities, she skips them and works through her list, crossing items off one by one. The gap between what she agreed to and what she actually does widens quietly in the background, and the household celebrates without her while she stays buried in tasks. She chose the list over the celebration, and the choice holds the promise at arm's length. The household goes on without her, and the distance between her word and her behavior grows while nobody stops to name it.

Riley then turns to the thing she has been avoiding: her psychic gifts. She meditates and asks to see her wedding. The vision comes up blank. Nothing. The emptiness frightens her more than a bad vision would, and her fear deepens rather than resolves. She asked for the one image that would settle her, and the silence of the vision leaves her with less than she started with. The blank is not a warning she can interpret or dismiss. It is an absence, and the absence follows her out of the meditation.

She tries again, and this time something comes through, but it is blurred: a bride and a groom she cannot make out. Then the image sharpens into a discovery that horrifies her. The bride is Jasmine. The groom is Kellen Weber. Whatever relief Riley hoped the vision would bring is swallowed by dread at what she has seen. She pushed for a clearer answer and got one she cannot unsee. The second attempt gives her a picture she can identify, and the identification is worse than the blur. The dread she carried into the meditation now has a shape, and the shape belongs to people she knows.

Outside, Burt wants to chase something and bolts out of the house. He comes tearing back in with a kitten, barreling into Riley and knocking her down, dragging the chaos straight into the house with him. Burt's chase brings the kitten through the door and takes Riley off her feet in the process. The chaos that was outside is suddenly inside, and it is moving.

The kitten wants only to escape. It flees into the Christmas tree, and Burt's pursuit of it topples the whole tree into the fireplace. Fire catches. The tree, the drapes, and the rug are destroyed. The kitten's flight and Burt's pursuit turn the tree into a falling object, and the fireplace turns the fall into a fire. The damage is total for the corner of the room it touches, and the holiday decorations are gone.

Nick wants to salvage the holiday, and he does it by sheer force of framing. He declares the damage a "Christmas miracle" and decides the answer is a bigger tree. Mrs. Penny, meanwhile, dodges blame for the extinguishers and for her spill, sidestepping responsibility amid the wreckage. Nick reframes the destruction as an opportunity so the holiday does not end in the burned corner of the room. Mrs. Penny avoids ownership of what she can avoid owning, and the wreckage is left to be explained by other people.

Riley wants the kitten search handled and nothing more. She gives Nick the thermal scope early, as a Christmas present, and goes to bed. Nick and Gabe head into the basement to hunt for the kitten. Riley hands off the search and removes herself from it, giving the gift early so the hunt can start. Nick and Gabe take the scope and go below, and the kitten search becomes the business of the basement while Riley goes upstairs.

Down in the basement, Gabe wants to know whether Nick feels inadequate as a partner. He probes Nick about what Riley might be hiding in her thoughts, and Nick insists that he and Riley make a good team. Gabe's question is aimed at Nick's confidence, and Nick's answer is aimed at closing the subject. The probe does not get far, and the team line is the wall it hits.

Gabe pushes further. He wants Nick to notice Riley's distress, warning that her discontent runs deeper than holiday stress. Nick dismisses it as seasonal pressure, then concedes he will fix it. Gabe names the distress directly and asks Nick to see it. Nick reduces it to the season and then promises a fix, which keeps the conversation moving without letting it land. The warning is delivered and deflected in the same breath.

Nick tries to explain Riley's mood by way of his own history: his father made the holiday magic, he says, and he vows to do the same. Gabe lists out the possible worries weighing on her, but Nick insists he has the problem handled. Nick reaches for his own past to make sense of the present and turns it into a promise about the holiday. Gabe offers a list of worries, and Nick answers with confidence rather than curiosity. The search for the kitten continues below while, upstairs, the vision of Jasmine and Kellen Weber sits unspoken in Riley's mind. The basement conversation and the upstairs silence run at the same time, and neither reaches the other.

Riley admits her concern to Gabe and Burt, seeking relief, but only earns Gabe's sarcasm and a delay before the crash upstairs. She wants someone to share the weight of her fear, and instead gets mockery that leaves her more alone than before. The crash cuts the conversation short, postponing any real reckoning and pushing the dread forward into the next room. Riley tries to put the fear into words and gets sarcasm back, which leaves her carrying it by herself. The crash ends the conversation before it can become a reckoning, and the dread moves forward unresolved.

Riley, Gabe, and Burt arrive at Blossom's house wanting bagels and normalcy, but Blossom immediately reads Riley's real motive. Riley hopes food and routine will settle her nerves, but her mother's instant perception strips away the comfort before anyone sits down. The visit turns from errand to interrogation, and Riley loses the chance to pretend everything is fine. Riley came for the ordinary and Blossom sees through the ordinary at once. The errand becomes a questioning, and the pretense is gone before it can be used.

Blossom sends Gabe to fetch a cookbook, wanting him out of the way, which leaves Riley alone to face her mother's scrutiny. Blossom wants a private word and knows Gabe will only deflect, so she manufactures an errand to clear the room. Riley is left without backup, exposed to exactly the conversation she came to avoid. The errand is a tool for emptying the room, and it works. Gabe leaves, and Riley is alone with the scrutiny she wanted to avoid.

Riley lies about needing solstice party attire, wanting to hide her real worry, but Blossom catches the lie and forces the truth out. Riley grasps for a mundane excuse to explain her agitation, hoping to escape questioning. The lie fails instantly, and Blossom's pressure leaves Riley with no cover and no way back to small talk. The excuse is meant to explain the agitation and end the questions. Blossom catches it immediately, and the failure of the lie removes the last cover Riley had.

Riley confesses she and Gabe lied to Grandma about tarot work, wanting to make it true, which costs her the upper hand with her mother. She admits the deception because the truth is already slipping out and she wants to own it before Blossom does. The confession hands Blossom leverage and leaves Riley defending herself instead of steering the conversation. Riley gives up the deception on her own terms before it can be taken from her, and the admission shifts the power in the room. Blossom now has something to hold, and Riley is the one explaining herself.

Blossom agrees to a tarot reading, wanting to help Riley, and Riley reluctantly accepts, risking a bad answer. Blossom offers the cards as a way to reach what Riley will not say aloud, and Riley agrees because refusing would prove she is afraid. The reading begins with Riley already braced for the worst, and the risk she takes is real. Blossom proposes the cards as a way past the silence, and Riley accepts rather than show fear. The reading starts with Riley expecting the worst, and the expectation is not wrong.

Riley shuffles and draws the Hermit, wanting reassurance, but the card deepens her fear of dying alone. She looks for comfort in the draw and finds isolation instead, a figure alone with a lantern. The card confirms the dread she brought in with her and makes her isolation feel fated rather than temporary. She wanted the cards to comfort her and the first card gives her solitude. The dread she carried in is confirmed rather than answered, and the isolation stops feeling like a mood and starts feeling like a destination.

Riley draws Judgment, wanting clarity, but instead gets an "awakening" she fears means a traumatic breakup. She hopes the second card will explain the first, and the word awakening lands as a threat rather than a promise. Her mind goes straight to losing Nick, and the reading tightens around her panic. The second card is supposed to clarify the first and instead gives her a word that sounds like an ending. Her thoughts go to Nick and the panic gets tighter, not looser.

Riley draws the Two of Swords, wanting a happy wedding sign, but the blindfolded card worsens her panic about Nick. She needs one card to point toward the wedding and gets a figure blinded and blocked instead. The draw confirms her fear that she cannot see the future she is supposed to want. She asked for a sign pointing at the wedding and got a figure who cannot see at all. The card matches her fear that the future she is supposed to want is invisible to her.

Gabe offers to jilt Nick for her, wanting to spare her, but Riley insists she loves Nick and refuses. Gabe proposes the escape as a kindness, trying to give her an out from the wedding she cannot picture. Riley rejects it outright, and the refusal proves her love is real even as her certainty about the marriage collapses. Gabe offers the exit as a kindness and Riley will not take it. The refusal shows the love is real, and the certainty about the marriage is what falls apart.

Riley confesses she cannot see the wedding, wanting honesty, which exposes her fear of death or dissolution to her mother and Gabe. She says the true thing because the cards have already said it for her and hiding it no longer works. The admission lays her fear bare in front of both of them, and there is no walking it back. The cards have already spoken, so the confession is the only honest move left. She says it in front of her mother and Gabe, and the fear is out in the room with no way to take it back.

Riley tries to leave and change the subject to Christmas Eve dinner, wanting escape, but her father bursts in with wedding song suggestions. She reaches for a safe topic to get herself out the door, hoping to end the conversation without ending it openly. Her father's entrance wrecks the exit and floods the room with the wedding talk she was fleeing. She reaches for the dinner as a way out and her father arrives with wedding songs instead. The exit is blocked and the room fills with the subject she was trying to leave.

Chapters 11-14

Nick sits with his phone, waiting on Khadijah's promised callback, when Brian arrives with news that lands like a gut punch: Brian has been fired. The scheme that was supposed to put Nick undercover has collapsed, and the fallout is lopsided. Penny was merely sent home early, while Brian carries the full weight of the dismissal. For Brian, the sting is doubled because the outcome cost him a bet. For Nick, the consequence is sharper still: the undercover job he was counting on is gone, and with it whatever leverage or access he had hoped to gain. The mood sours into frustration and blame as the two men reckon with a plan that has come apart.

The Christmas Eve Problem

Nick pivots quickly, trying to salvage something from the wreckage by pressing Brian about Christmas Eve dinner. He wants a commitment, a seat filled at the table. But Brian refuses to decide anything on his own, deferring every question to Josie and leaving Nick with no answer at all. The exchange makes the real obstacle plain: if Nick wants Brian at dinner, he has to win Josie over first, and that is a task Brian has no intention of making easier.

Danger Man

Nick's attempt to move through the mall is interrupted when the Orbiscope bot locks onto him and labels him "Danger Man." Rather than stand his ground or confront the machine, Nick hides, ducking out of its sight. Even the mall's automated systems have marked him, and his instinct is evasion rather than confrontation.

The Missing Watches

A commotion near the jewelry store pulls Nick's attention, and he steps inside to investigate. Questioning the sales associate, he learns that eight expensive Movado watches are missing. Worse, manager Edwin never reported the theft. Nick now has a real mystery on his hands, and the failure to report points suspicion in uncomfortable directions.

Lying Low

What Nick learns next makes his position worse. Mall gossip has already spread the news of his firing, meaning his disgrace is public before he has had any chance to control the story. He also discovers that security is unreliable, hardly the ally he would need to pursue the watch theft properly. Weighing the gossip against the uselessness of security, Nick decides to lie low, pulling back rather than pushing forward.

The Courthouse Run

Riley and Mrs. Penny prepare to leave for the courthouse, and after Nick hears about their plan to amend the license, he decides to join them. The errand becomes a shared mission, and Nick attaches himself to it, perhaps to keep moving, perhaps because the amendment matters to him too.

Dotty and the Clerk

At the clerk's office, Mrs. Penny immediately antagonizes Dotty, and the situation threatens to derail before it begins. Mrs. Penny is moved aside, and Nick steps in to charm the clerk into accepting the amendment paperwork. Where Mrs. Penny provokes, Nick smooths things over, and the paperwork gets taken. But the victory is short-lived. Dotty reveals that fingerprinting is by appointment only, and the next available slot is not until February. The timeline is a wall, and Riley and Nick have to look elsewhere for a way through it.

Chaos at the Precinct

At the police station, Mrs. Penny creates chaos with red finger paint, turning the errand into a spectacle. Amid the mess, Nick confronts Weber directly, pressing him to expedite the fingerprinting. Weber agrees to process them, but his motive is transparent: he wants them out of the precinct. Nick, ever the operator, turns the concession into an invitation, asking Weber to Christmas Eve dinner. The ask hangs there, a small social gambit thrown into a transaction.

Ten to Twelve Weeks

Back at the clerk's office, Dotty delivers the blow: processing will take ten to twelve weeks. The number lands hard, because it jeopardizes their end-of-year deadline entirely. Nick and Riley panic over the delay, the whole plan suddenly teetering on a bureaucratic timeline they cannot control.

The Fourth-Floor Guy

Mrs. Penny calls them into the hallway for a team meeting and proposes a mysterious "fourth-floor guy." The suggestion is vague and strange, but with the clock against them, Nick and Riley reluctantly follow her upstairs. In the law library, Mrs. Penny introduces Wendell at the self-help center and asks Riley to hand over the file. The request is a leap of faith, and the section closes on the question of what this fourth-floor connection can actually deliver.

Riley hands her paperwork to Mrs. Penny despite the older woman's rudeness, determined to push the licensing process forward. She refuses to let Mrs. Penny's manner slow her down, and the small act of persistence keeps their application alive.

Mrs. Penny reveals that Wendell is the office's fixer and asks him to expedite Nick and Riley's PI licensing. She makes the request with the casual authority of someone who knows exactly which levers to pull, and the revelation gives Riley and Nick a shortcut they did not ask for.

Wendell agrees to look for a shortcut to clear his debt to Mrs. Penny. He treats the favor as a transaction rather than a kindness, already calculating what it will cost him, and his agreement sets the licensing machinery moving in a way Riley cannot fully see or control.

Riley pulls Nick aside to warn him about owing Mrs. Penny a favor. She is uneasy about the strings attached and wants Nick to share her caution, but his reaction tells her he is not taking the risk as seriously as she is.

Nick dismisses Riley's concerns with plans to elope if the license falls through. He leans on cheerfulness and improvisation rather than facing the problem directly, and his breezy confidence leaves Riley more isolated in her worry.

Riley pushes Nick for a firm contingency plan and comes away with nothing she can hold onto. Her need for certainty and his optimism pull in different directions, and a quiet crack opens in their partnership.

Khadijah calls to confront Nick about being fired and tells him the mall knows about the coffee incident. She is direct and unsentimental, delivering the news as a fact he has to face, and the call forces Nick to reckon with the consequences of his earlier mistake.

Nick seizes on the jewelry store theft as a way back in and makes his case to Khadijah quickly. She agrees to meet him after the theft is reported, giving him a narrow opening and pulling Riley back into the investigation.

Riley realizes her vision of clock hands may have been watch hands. She reexamines what she saw and finds a detail that changes the shape of the case, linking Ashley to the theft and giving the sting a target.

Nick focuses on setting up a sting and leaves Riley to arrange their ride. He hands off the logistics without a second thought, and Riley is left with the practical work and the sense that she is carrying more than her share.

Jasmine lures Riley to a bridal appointment under the guise of an emergency. She knows exactly which button to push and uses Riley's loyalty against her, and Riley arrives expecting a crisis and finds a dress fitting instead.

Riley looks for an exit from the surprise dress fitting and instead walks into a family conflict she did not create. Both mothers are already feuding, and the feud raises the stakes of the wedding planning and traps her between the two women.

Riley tries on five bad picks chosen by her entourage, hoping something will click. Each option feels wrong, and the failed fittings deepen her doubt about the wedding and about her own judgment.

Riley confesses to Jasmine that she cannot "see" the wedding and fears the tarot warning. She admits the thing she has been hiding and asks for help making sense of it, exposing her fear and inviting Jasmine into the heart of her doubt.

Jasmine pushes Riley to trust free will and marry Nick despite the psychic warnings. She argues that fate is not a cage and that Riley gets to choose her own life, and her encouragement steadies Riley but does not fully dissolve the fear.

A vision reveals that the silver cocktail dress is not her wedding dress, and Riley buys it for the solstice event. The vision gives her permission to want something for herself without pretending it is the bridal gown, and the purchase is a small act of independence.

Riley tells Merle the Second to avoid the New Year's time-share trip, passing along Merle the First's warning even though it sounds strange. She believes the warning matters, and the errand closes the section with Riley acting on her visions rather than merely fearing them.