Nova's Blade

Chapter 3

Torin clutches a pile of papers, each emblazoned with the word 'MISSING' above Nova's face. Atira sits nearby, her eyes red and swollen, surrounded by a pile of used tissues. "I'm going to bring her home," Torin declares.

He enters Gaia's room, finding her lying on her bed, staring at the wall without her glasses. "I could use your help," Torin says.

"The police said we have to wait 96 hours," Gaia replies.

"And then what? They do a press conference, ask questions, post leads, and repeat? I'm not waiting."

"Nova will come back. We just have to wait. Besides, will a poster really make a difference?" Gaia asks, her voice tinged with doubt.

Torin drops his head. "Yes," he sighs.

Torin's determination drives him door-to-door, showing the flyers to everyone he encounters. Most people shake their heads, offering no help. Later, he walks out of a gas station, his stack of flyers dwindling. Sweat beads on his forehead. Two men in their twenties stand outside the station, drinking beer.

"Excuse me, have you two seen this girl?" Torin asks.

One of the men grabs the flyer, his eyes lighting up. "Dude, I've seen her before!"

"Where?!" Torin demands, desperation creeping into his voice.

"On my jock!" the man laughs crudely, tearing the flyer and high-fiving his friend. Enraged, Torin punches him. The man's friend retaliates, striking Torin from behind. Together, they beat Torin to the ground, leaving him battered and bruised.

As Torin struggles to his knees, Gaia appears beside him, helping him gather the scattered papers.

Back at the house, Atira sits in her chair, crying as she scrolls through photos of Nova on her phone. She looks at images of Nova as a child, and photos of their family together, blowing out candles on a birthday cake. Atira manages a smile. A knock on the door interrupts her reminiscing. She dons a wig before floating over to open it. Hannibal stands outside, a smile on his face.

"You must be Nova's mom."

Atira and Hannibal sit down, and she listens in shock as he speaks. "Last Valkyrie?" she gasps.

"We never have them answer their phones because we want it to be a surprise. This is a big opportunity for her. She's more than welcome to quit at any time," Hannibal explains. "I like the show, but to have my own child in it is terrifying."

"I have a daughter too, so I understand," he replies, placing a comforting hand on Atira's. "You see all this glamour, but behind the scenes, the families can get emotional. That's why we seek to involve the families in the experience – the Valkyries need the support. It's better than them facing it all alone."

"Nova is going to do what she's going to do, but I can't support this. I've lost too much," Atira admits.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Hannibal inquires. Atira nods. "How bad is it?" he asks gently.

Removing her wig, Atira sighs. "It's going to get a lot worse before it gets better."

"There is a way we can help you," Hannibal offers.

"I appreciate it, but this won't buy my support."

"It's not meant to. My wife died of a rare illness that couldn't be cured. I watched her struggle, and it pains me to see anyone else go through the same. Please, let us help before it gets worse, then it might be too late."

Atira's eyes flicker with a mix of hope and distress as she considers her options. She hesitates, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Hannibal watches her carefully.