Page 2 of Alien Assassin's Heir

She squints at me. “You always say that when you’re sad.”

I freeze. My hand lingers on her shoulder a beat too long.

“I’m not sad,” I say, though my voice cracks. “I’m just tired.”

She seems to accept that, nodding like a tiny sage, and slides off my lap. “Can I color on the walls?”

“No.”

“The floor?”

“Also no.”

“The window?”

I groan and ruffle her hair. “Fine. Just the corner.”

She scrambles toward the supply cabinet where I stash her things—crayons, holo-pads, that one ragged plushie shaped likea starwhale. I watch her as I sip lukewarm recaf, the bitter taste coating my tongue like regret.

She's getting older. Smarter. Quicker.

And changing.

It happens fast—too fast. One day she’s teething on fusion keys and laughing at shadows, and the next she’s standing in the tub,shifting.

It was barely a flicker. Scales rippling across her forearms like oil on water. Her pupils narrowing to slits, her baby teeth sharpening for just a breath before returning to normal.

But I saw it.

And so did she.

She didn’t cry. Just blinked up at me and said, “Mama… am I broken?”

Stars, I nearly did cry.

I sat on the floor, soaking wet, wrapped her in a towel, and whispered every lie I could think of that would keep her calm and keep hersafe. “You’re perfect. You’re special. You’re my miracle, Solie. Nothing’s broken.”

But gods help me, I felt broken.

Because someday, she’ll ask about her father. And someday, she won’t be satisfied with fairy tales about starlight and mystery men. She’ll wanttruth.

And what the hell am I going to tell her?

That her father was a spy?

That he seduced me to access top-secret IHC data and left me to burn when the trap snapped shut?

That I lost my career, my home, my future—because I believed him?

Because Ilovedhim?

I slam the recaf cup down harder than I mean to. Solie glances over, crayons in hand, concern flickering across her too-old face.

“You okay, Mama?”

I paste on a smile. “Just spilled a little. Go on, sweetheart. Make me a masterpiece.”

She nods, then hums softly, something tuneless but sweet, and I sit back down, forcing my breathing to steady.