Yvette’s expression hardened as she set her coffee cup on the table, the sound of a quiet but deliberate click that filled the tense silence. Her lingers lingered on the rim for a moment, tracing its edge, before she finally raised her gaze, eyes sharp and piercing. Yet, she said nothing.

Simon rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the stress from the past few weeks pressing down on him. It fueled his desperation to find Siren. How old is Yvette, anyway? How could she possibly be Siren? he thought to himself.

“I am,” Yvette said, breaking the silence.

“You can go ba” Simon stopped mid–sentence, freezing in disbelief. His eyes shot up to meet hers, his expression a Tumultuous mix of shock and confusion.

Always composed and graceful, he now struggled to regain his control. His voice trembled as he stammered, “Yvette, you… What did you just say? Say it again.” He stared at her intently, searching her eyes for some kind of explanation that would make sense of this revelation.

Yvette’s fingers, which had been tapping a steady rhythm on the table, suddenly stilled. She lifted her gaze, cold and detached, her voice flat and almost indifferent. “I am Siren.”

Those three words hit Simon like a thunderclap. He remained motionless and speechless as the weight of the revelation settled over him. At over fifty, he found himself surprisingly at a loss, grappling with a truth he had never expected.

The person he had been searching for was right in front of him all along. Yvette wasn’t just acquainted with Siren–she was Siren, the physics genius that James had admired so much. It all made sense now, including the email he received from Siren right after Yvette went to the police station.

If Yvette was indeed Siren, then it wasn’t just physics in which she excelled. She probably had a deep knowledge of networks too–maybe even hacking. The whole thing was mind–boggling, yet Simon didn’t doubt her for a second; this was a truth that couldn’t be fabricated.

“Am I the only one who knows?” he asked urgently. “Did you only tell me?”

if the weight of this revelation meant little to her. To her, it was simply a matter of no one bothering to ask; she had never

and sank into a chair, taking a moment to compose himself. “Yvette… No, Siren,

to find you, and even… Forget I said that. But the country needs a mind like yours. You could help advance

true identity, everything shifted. He could no longer

forward, his tone turned deeply sincere. “Mr. Owens is eager to recruit you. He said the lab’s doors will always be open to you–whenever you’re ready! After speaking, Simon looked at Yvette with

gaze fell, and she withdrew her hand from the table, T’m not interested,

knew what unpredictable path she might take if he did? He let out

an answer by tomorrow?” His tone was almost pleading, stripped of

respond, but a flicker of irritation crossed her face, Simon pressed on. I’ll keep your secret, but there’s one person I can’t hide it from–Mr. Owens, He’s getting older, and

then, a knock on the door broke the tension. Simon quickly composed himself, slipping back into his usual stern

the couch. Ever since the Sky Nimbus incident, he had harbored

rushed to the police station that day? Something’s going

with you in ten minutes to

still lingering on the conversation with Yvette.

Patrick lingered just outside the door, curiosity getting the better of him as he hoped to catch more of their conversation. He heard Simon say, “If you don’t want to, I

stumbled into Simon, who stood in the doorway, an icy glare directed at

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