While Luca was using a red marker to circle dates and draw a tighter circle around a name he’d already underlined twice, he heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps. Thinking it was just Laura moving about doing something, he didn’t look up right away. But the movement got closer to the open library door.

Laura stepped in again, but she wasn’t empty-handed. This time, she carried a golden tray loaded with snacks, juice, and water. And on her face was a neutral, beaming smile that would make it difficult for anyone to be annoyed.

The truth was, Laura couldn’t help but be nosy in Luca’s matters. Her curiosity was like a magnet pulling her back into the room to see those secret files again.

But she was smart about it.

If she stood there staring, Luca would probably send her away. So, she made sure her presence was valuable, not redundant. By bringing refreshments and a bit of ease to what already looked like really demanding, brain-melting work, Laura earned her spot at the table. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The tray was set down near Luca’s elbow. Now, Luca had no choice but to honor it as she felt more like a partner than a spy in his work.

He reached for a biscuit, then the juice, taking a slow sip as if giving himself a small pause between thoughts. Seeing him relax, Laura took it as her cue to be brave. She leaned in, her fingerprints literally marking the edges of the glossy photos and dusty files as she started sifting through them.

"What is... all this?"

A black-and-white photo of the then-Presidents of Nevada and Buseno Velocita shaking hands in a meeting stared back at Laura.

"It looks like you have a lot on your hands, Detective.

What case are we solving today?

Are we looking for lost treasure or is this some kind of secret espionage operation?"

No response from Luca immediately. He stayed quiet, biting into the biscuit, letting the crunch fill the silence instead.

Luca watched her for a moment, the juice glass cold in his hand. He wondered if Laura might actually be his lucky card, the missing piece he needed to crack this thing wide open.

Up until now, he’d been stubborn about doing it alone.

The first reason was pride. There was a certain satisfaction in cracking something like this yourself. The kind of dopamine hit Luca might receive after solving this mystery by himself would have been enough to send him into a seizure.

The second reason was caution. This was sensitive stuff that he couldn’t simply trust anyone with. Too many variables. Too many unknown loyalties. Luca wouldn’t even trust a hired private investigator.

But the confusion had been eating at him for weeks. He was staring at the same names and dates until they blurred into nothing. Looking at Laura now, with her eyes bright and her hands already reaching for the files, he saw a "low risk, high reward" situation.

Laura was incredibly smart.

Her brain worked with a kind of sharp, cognitive speed that was honestly scary sometimes. She could probably speedrun these connections, spotting the tiny details in the text that he was too tired to see. She had this way of organizing chaos in her head that made her more capable than any analyst he’d met.

On top of that, what could she realistically do that would compromise this?

Laura wasn’t some corporate beaver or a journalist looking for a scoop. Laura was just a mother of one with no true formal ties with F1. No alliances. No stakes in whatever this became. Truthfully, she had no reason to leak, twist, or interfere.

And yet, she was capable enough.

Luca figured it was the right thing to do.

Finishing the last of the juice, he let the sugar hit his system. Then he looked at the chaos of papers, then up at Laura, who was still hovering with that intense, curious energy.

"You know what this reminds me of?" he asked.

Laura looked.

"Nancy Drew," Luca said, his voice even. "The old computer games. The answer isn’t ever just sitting right in front of you. It’s always hidden across ten different things that don’t look related at all. Like, you find a stamp in a drawer and a letter in a safe, and somehow they explain a murder."

He paused, studying her.

"You ever played those old Nancy Drew games?"

"I wasn’t really a fan of computer thingies myself," Laura admitted after a long pause, "but I remember my cousin had this beige Dell. He used to sit there for hours. I remember the music... and that voice. The girl was always saying ’It’s locked’ or ’I need a key for this.’"

She laughed a little, the sound soft in the quiet library. "She’d get so frustrated because she couldn’t find a hidden tile in a floor or something. It was all very... intense for a game."

"Exactly," Luca said. "That’s how they work."

"That’s what this is, too. A lot of things happening behind the scenes that nobody wants to talk about. I’ve been trying to find the key for weeks, but I think I’ve just been staring at the same door."

"Isn’t this your father?" Laura asked.

Her finger was pointed at a photo.

Luca answered with a nod.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to begin speaking.

********

Exactly as Luca had predicted, Laura was no corporate beaver with a hidden agenda. She listened to his explanation with her eyes wide and fixed on him, looking like a kid hearing a dark bedtime story for the very first time—totally spooked but too hooked to look away.

When he finished, she didn’t just offer a polite nod; she made it verbally clear she was all in.

"I’m in! We’re figuring this out!"

Her heart raced with excitement, and she promised right then and there to help him get to the bottom of the mystery.

Laura realized the small table wasn’t enough for the magnitude of what they were dealing with. So, she moved to a clear section of the library wall, a dark wood paneling that looked perfect for what she had in mind.

Grabbing documents and photos, Laura used tapes, string, and push-pins to create a sprawling, Michael Schofield-style map on the wall.

Luca watched her and called for adjustments when necessary.

Together, they expanded it. Higher. Wider. Threads formed and clusters appeared.

Mrs. Hawthorne no longer sat isolated—she connected.

Aldo wasn’t just a memory—he became a node.

Teams, timelines, and affiliations started to overlap in ways that weren’t visible before.

Everything became much clearer as the connections grew thicker and more obvious against the wall.