Page 31

Deadline

Marsh’s arrival into the next episode isn’t seamless as usual, but rather like a badly timed splice, off by just enough to jar. She appears a few inches above the floor and then drops the rest of the way, already moving before anything else. The force of her landing scatters a few papers off the desk in front of her as the scene rushes to catch up.

“Marsh!” Ren cries, lurching up from his chair behind the desk, and Marsh grabs his hand at the last second, barely avoiding a wipeout. “Are you okay?”

But she’s too busy studying her new scene to answer. It’s morning, she can tell from the light, and the two of them are in what must be Ren’s office—where he must be back to being a journalist again, if what he said all those episodes ago is still true.

Her eyes drift to the window as the music swells triumphantly. Far below, the beautifully orchestrated chaos of Hong Kong and Kowloon Bay sprawl, a tangled web of concrete, water, people, and green.

SagwaGold: 嗰度喺我條邨 !

TopFan01: Here we go, everyone... Welcome to Hong Kong!

ChaoFeng: 九龍!九龍 !

SharpTruth299: We’re in the home stretch now

[Automatic security filters have deleted this account]

Marsh grimly notes SharpTruth’s scrubbed comment. But even so, she can’t resist admiring the breathtaking view for a moment.

Hong Kong.

She finally made it. She’s really here.

This was the place she dreamed about seeing as a child, then the ultimate adventure she’d someday take as a teenager, then the romantic, once-in-a-lifetime trip she and Dylan had planned for their twenty-fifth anniversary, if they’d made it that far. For as long as she’s been able to read its name on a map, Hong Kong has been a symbol for Marsh. A way for her to prove to herself that she was alive .

“I thought that if I could make it there, I could make it anywhere,” she confessed to Talia, just before all of this began.

And now she can. All This and More has made it possible.

Despite everything that’s happened so far, Marsh can’t help but feel a surge of hope as she looks out at her new path, her new life.

She’s on top of the world—literally.

Ren’s office appears to be on the south side of Victoria Harbour, staring out across the water toward Kowloon’s vibrant Tsim Sha Tsui, with its tightly packed skyscrapers and crush of colorful multilevel mansions, each floor full of different vendors hawking their own wares. Even in the day, everything is lit up in neon. Marsh can’t wait to see how electric the energy must be in the evening.

Having steadied her, Ren lets go of Marsh’s hand and gives her a peck on the cheek.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” he says. “I thought you had a meeting about that big client Victor’s been talking about all week.”

“Big client.” She nods at last. “Of course.”

Everything is lining up again as it should. Marsh as a lawyer is the right version of her. The true one. It was an adventure to try out those other careers, but it had started to feel like she was losing control. Things were getting too fantastical, too far-fetched, even as incredible as it all was. But she’s back on track now. She’s changed her whole life—found her passion, saved her relationships, transformed her personality and style. She’s already fiercely protective of this path, of everything in it. There’s just one loose end to tie up before the finale, and then everything can be perfect, can be hers.

A big loose end.

She already knows it’s here. Just not where.

Slowly, Marsh scans Ren’s office. Her eyes fall across his cluttered desk, where a folder of handwritten notes rests atop of the mess. The title on the front, printed in Ren’s neat, capital letter scrawl in red ink, stops her cold.

Chrysalis.

There it is.

Ren’s notes for the article he mentioned so long ago, back in Tahiti.

“Is this the new story you’re writing?” she asks, pointing at the folder.

Ren shakes his head. “You know I can’t discuss confidential sources,” he answers. “Even with you.”

“This is different,” Marsh says.

He shrugs, apologetic. “Sorry. Journalist’s code. But it’s really important. Career-defining important. If I can get it published in time, it’ll change the world.”

He looks excited. Like he really means it.

Finally, Marsh gets a proper look at him. Ren is cute and tousled now, with slightly unruly hair and a pair of chic geeky glasses that fit his journalist character—but he also looks a little haggard. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and there are more creases in his brow. His clothes are clean but rumpled, and his office is a mess of papers and books. He must be working very hard on this article.

This article about Chrysalis.

“Come on, I don’t want you to be late for your meeting,” Ren says, giving her another kiss. “Or me for mine! I’m still not used to how formal our editorial discussions are here. The New York Times Asia bureau operates at a whole new level!”

TopFan01: Wow, Ren works for the New York Times now? Talk about a promotion!

He leans over to his desk and grabs the Chrysalis folder. “Harper has violin, so I’ll pick her up on the way home. We’ll see you later tonight!”

Marsh stares at the unassuming manila cover as he heads for the door. At that word upon it that keeps following her, that just won’t leave her alone, no matter what she does.

“You know I’d tell you, if I could,” Ren says when she looks up at him again. “Right?”

“I know,” Marsh replies. She smiles, and it must be convincing, because Ren looks relieved. “But you don’t have to.”

Because if he can’t tell her what Chrysalis is in this episode, she’ll just figure it out herself.

Her firm’s new offices are in Central, just off Admiralty station, so Marsh is there in a flash. The buildings there are grand and modern and towering, and there are banks, consulates, and restaurants galore on every corner. Mendoza-Montalvo and Hall is located in one of the swankiest-looking high-rises, and as the elevator doors open to their floor, it’s already busy, even at this early hour. First-years are scurrying everywhere, arms laden with binders and case files, and every conference room seems to be full.

Marsh ducks left down the hall, checking her watch. Even if she can’t tell Jo directly what’s going on, she needs a friendly face right now.

“Hey, Jo, do you have a sec—” but Marsh stops short as she enters Jo’s office.

“Hello, Marsh,” Adrian says politely.

“Uh. Adrian. Hi,” Marsh says.

“Forget where you were for a moment?” he asks.

Marsh glances around the room, trying to get her bearings. Come to think of it, this doesn’t look like Jo’s office.

It’s because it’s not decorated like Jo’s office. It’s not Jo’s stuff that’s in here, Marsh realizes with a start.

It’s hers.

“Adrian, where’s Jo’s office?” Marsh asks quickly, before she realizes what an odd question that probably is.

“South corner,” he replies. “Like in every one of our locations. Victor’s north, you’re east, and Jo’s south.”

“I’m east,” Marsh repeats slowly.

“Better morning light, you said. So whenever we open a new location, we always put the second partner’s office on the east corner.”

Wait.

Marsh gasps out loud.

She isn’t just one of her firm’s best lawyers in this episode—she’s a goddamn partner now!

And it seems like the firm itself has also gotten a serious upgrade. The Phoenix headquarters wasn’t a shabby setup by any means, but every inch of this new office drips with impressive details. The gold lighting, the wood paneling, the desks, the windows... even the paper looks twice as thick.

And Dylan’s briefcase.

It’s there, on the desk. Her desk. Back, at last—waiting for her.

She’s smiling, she realizes.

Adrian clears his throat politely. “Can I help with something?”

Marsh turns to him again. Adrian’s standing beside the row of filing cabinets on the far wall, and had been carefully dropping folders into them according to client name until Marsh stormed in—a strange job for a lawyer. He’s also dressed more modestly than he was before. The quality of his suit’s fabric is not as rich, and the fit is standard, an off-the-rack rather than bespoke.

But his tone is the most different of all. There’s not a hint of flirtatiousness in it. It’s polished, polite, and very, very deferential.

Is he...

Is Adrian Jackson Marsh’s paralegal now?

“Are you all right?” Adrian asks as she stares.

“Busy morning,” she finally replies.

“I’ll say,” he says. “I’m surprised you’re not already in the conference room.”

Victor’s announcement!

“Going now,” Marsh says, rushing out.

Then she rushes back in and takes the briefcase.

“I might need this,” she says.

She squeezes through the heavy glass door just as Victor waves to quiet the crowd. The conference room runs the length of one wall of their floor, and is entirely glass, too, and Marsh momentarily gapes at the sweeping views of the harbor again. It seems like every lawyer, from partner to first-year, is crammed into the space, all of them chattering excitedly until Victor shushes them.

Whatever this is about, it’s important.

Very important.

“Thank you all for coming,” Victor says, his voice carrying effortlessly across the giant space. “We’re going to keep this quick because I know we’re all very busy, and that a bunch of you need to get back on the first flights out to Singapore and Tokyo to make your evening meetings.”

“What’s going on?” Marsh squeezes between bodies to whisper to Jo as Victor continues his brief introductory remarks.

“There you are. New development with our big potential client,” Jo whispers back.

“How big?” Marsh asks, unable to help it.

“Huge,” Jo whispers, giving her an odd look, like she should know this. “If we land them, we’ll be set for life.”

Marsh arches a brow.

“ Life, ” Jo repeats, with a nod. She glances sidelong at Marsh again. “Nice briefcase. Very retro.”

“I want all hands on deck,” Victor is saying. “If you’re not on a case, you’re assigned to this, immediately. Nondisclosure agreements are waiting for all of you outside this room. You will sign right after this meeting.”

He glares around the room at the first-years, who visibly wither beneath his stare.

“I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t trust you, but let me say this once,” he rumbles. “If there’s a leak before we win or lose this bid, believe me: I will find you.”

One of the newest recruits actually whimpers.

Victor takes a breath, and the room practically contracts around him.

“The client we’re in the running to sign is Sharp Incorporated.”

A shocked cry rises from the crowd in unison—and then a rolling wave of voices. Everyone is talking at once, some people looking stunned, some euphoric, some terrified.

These are now seasoned lawyers at one of the best firms in the world, thanks to Marsh’s choices. They’ve worked for movie stars, political powerhouses, billionaire business tycoons, and corporations with more money than most sovereign nations. Their reactions at this moment are so extreme, it’s as if Victor just told everyone that humanity had definitively made first contact with extraterrestrials.

Sharp Incorporated is that big.

Except—it doesn’t exist. Not anymore.

The entire Sharp conglomerate famously folded and its eponymous founder withdrew from the public eye after season two of All This and More collapsed disastrously.

So how can Marsh’s firm be vying to represent them?

“All right,” Victor says, trying to quiet them again, but everyone is too excited. “All right! We have twenty-four hours left to prepare our bid. All of you will contribute if needed, but Jo, Marsh, and I are apparently the only three who have been invited to take the test to see who runs point.”

A test?

Marsh doesn’t like the sound of that.

“You got it!” Jo calls to him from where she is midway across the room, and Marsh manages a weak wave of support.

“What test?” she whispers to Jo.

“Didn’t you see the encrypted email that came in this morning? They sent it to just the three of us, apparently,” Jo replies. “It’s only one question. The answer is due by the end of the day today.”

“One question?” Marsh repeats.

Jo shrugs, mystified, but as she whispers back, Marsh’s stomach twists into a sickening knot.

“It’s just: ‘What does Sharp Incorporated want?’”

The harbor view is typically the most desired in any Hong Kong building, which is why Marsh’s new corner office faces that way, but she actually prefers to look inland toward the looming Victoria Peak, so she changes it, so Jo’s office faces east and hers faces south. It’s a small detail, but she likes it better this way. Compared to the bustling water, the mountain is dark, heavy, unmoving. Its calmness feels like an anchor.

At last, Marsh leans back in her chair and sighs. It’s late, and she’s kicked off her heels and tucked them beside her desk to be more comfortable. She sets down a little crystal tumbler of Japanese whiskey from her bar, accidentally nudging a framed photograph of Harper, her, and Ren, plus Pickle—all together at a beach in California.

Marsh picks up the photo. It looks like a nice memory.

But something’s strange about it.

Marsh, Ren, and Harper look happy, and Pickle is a black Lab as usual, thank goodness, not a hamster or a parrot or a goldfish. Everything seems to be in its right place.

It’s strange because everything is in its right place.

Marsh took this exact photo on a vacation with Harper, Pickle, and Dylan, the year before they separated.

That’s a very weird thing for the Bubble to have done.

Marsh looks away, trying to ignore the photo, but a few moments later, her eyes have crept back. Eventually, she gently turns the frame face down on her desk.

“Okay.” She pulls her laptop closer. “Time to figure out what’s going on.”

She puts just one word into the browser’s search bar and waits for the results to load.

Let’s see how far down the rabbit hole this goes.

Chrysalis, now, is a giant pharmaceutical company based in Shenzhen, a massive Chinese city right across the narrow Sham Chun River from Hong Kong. And it’s also the name of their flagship drug—a sleeping pill that promises to cure insomnia.

“‘Chrysalis in your dreams,’” she mumbles as she reads.

That’s a little creepy.

She skims the corporate website, but it’s all marketing jargon and flashy graphics. Undeterred, she opens another search, and a few minutes of scanning recent news stories and articles finally gives her a first clue. Apparently, the Chrysalis pill is still unreleased, pending FDA approval, but during its most recent trial, an unintentional secondary effect was discovered.

The pill allows people who take it to lucid dream.

Interesting.

So, this must be what Ren is after. The big thing that will “change the world” if he can be the one to publish his profile of this company and its incredible new drug first. A sleeping pill that also allows people to have lucid dreams whenever they want.

It’s odd, for sure. A little creepy—but also, judging from the wonderful, enlightening, even healing experiences the beta testers describe in these articles, maybe a little magical. But why does Ren think that this secondary application would be so incredible that it actually could change the world? Lucid dreaming doesn’t really seem medically useful, but it also doesn’t sound particularly dangerous, as far as side effects go.

But Ren is smart, Marsh knows. There must be some reason he’s zeroed in on Chrysalis with such fervor in this episode. There must be something else buried here, beneath a medication that can induce positive lucid dreams.

“Knock, knock,” Jo says, poking her head into Marsh’s office. “I know we’re sworn enemies now, but want to grab a drink before you head home?”

“Next time,” Marsh replies. “Promise.”

“Holding you to it,” Jo says. She lingers, her hand on the door. “You send your answer in yet?”

“Not yet. You?”

Jo shakes her head. “Neither has Vic. He went home hours ago to meditate on it in his private Zen garden, he said.”

“I doubt that’s going to help.” Marsh chuckles.

“Not like anything else will, though. There are just too many possibilities!” She groans, exasperated. “Security, privacy, public image management, tax and financial advice, assistance complying with international regulations... How can I pick just one? How can a corporation want just one thing?”

Because this isn’t about business, Marsh wishes she could tell her. It’s about the show.

“This is the strangest client interview I’ve ever had, that’s for sure,” she finally says.

Jo nods slowly, lost in thought. “Maybe we’ll guess the same thing, and they’ll have to hire all three of us,” she suggests.

Marsh smiles. “Let’s hope.”

The idea seems to make Jo happy.

“Well, don’t stay too late,” she calls as she turns for the elevators. “What am I saying? Of course you will.”

Marsh waits for a moment, until she hears the doors ding, and knows she’s finally alone in the office.

On her laptop, she opens the encrypted email at last. Just like Jo said, there’s only one line, and then a small space for Marsh to insert an answer.

What does Sharp Incorporated want?

Marsh stares at the question for a long time. But she’s not trying to come up with an answer.

She already knows it.

At last, she puts her fingers on the keyboard and types.

She’s done almost immediately. It’s a short answer, just two words long.

If Marsh could tell Jo and Vic what was really going on, she’d explain that their guesses—security, revenue, public image—are all logical, but not correct. Of course Sharp would like to maximize its profits, or branch out into new markets, but that’s all secondary.

What it really wants is the thing that became its downfall, then disappeared with all the answers. And now, whose fragments keep appearing in Marsh’s life.

What Sharp is really after is...

Season two.

Marsh clicks SUBMIT .