The tablet was propped against the mirror on Arianne’s dresser, Franz’s face filling the screen. He was in his hotel room at the remote filming location, the same one she’d seen every night for the past week. The walls were beige. The lamp was too bright. His hair was still damp from a shower.

Arianne sat cross-legged on her bed in her nightdress, working through the last steps of her skincare routine. The motions were soothing after the day she’d had. Toner. Serum. Moisturizer. Her hands moved automatically while she talked.

She told him everything. The call from the school. The drive over with her heart in her throat. The voices through the principal’s door. Miss Chen’s briefing in the hallway. Lily’s fierce defense of herself and her brother. Bradley’s retaliation. Leo’s shove and the word that had broken free of him after more than a year of holding it in: "NO."

She told him about the parents. Their casual cruelty. The way the father’s face had gone pale when he recognized her name. She told him about the principal’s stammered promises and her own demand for accountability.

Franz listened without interrupting. When she finished, he was still, his brow furrowed with the particular worry he always carried for Leo.

"He still doesn’t know how to express the big feelings," he said. "The pushing is becoming a pattern."

"I talked to him about it. After we got home." She smoothed moisturizer over her cheeks. "I told him what you told him after the fight with Lily. Laying a hand on someone isn’t right. And I told him there’s one exception: if someone touches him or Lily first, he has permission to defend himself."

Franz nodded slowly. "Good. That’s good. What did he say?"

"He cried. Silently, the way he always does. He said he was afraid. He didn’t want to believe what Bradley said about being forgotten when the baby comes."

"Did you tell him it wasn’t true?"

"I told him he’d be upgraded to big brother. Lily would have two little siblings instead of one. He seemed to like that."

A small smile crossed Franz’s face. "Big brother. I can see it."

"He’s already practicing. He told Lily at dinner that he was starting big brother training. He made her switch seats with him so he could sit closer to her. In case she needed protection."

Franz laughed. The sound was warm and genuine, and it eased something in Arianne’s chest that had been tight since the phone call from the school.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Arianne glanced at the screen. "Hold on."

She crossed the room and opened the door. Lily and Leo stood in the hallway in their pajamas — Lily’s printed with rabbits, Leo’s with stars. Lily had Petal tucked under one arm. Leo had the whale in one hand and his tablet in the other.

"Aunt Aria," Lily said, "can we have more ice cream? Leo wants more and I want more and we both agree that one scoop wasn’t enough."

"You already had your share of dessert. You can have more tomorrow."

Lily sighed, then craned her neck to peer past Arianne into the room. Her eyes landed on the tablet propped against the mirror. "Uncle Franz!"

She looked at Arianne with wide, hopeful eyes. "Can we come in? Just for a minute? Please? We want to talk to Uncle Franz."

Beside her, Leo lifted his tablet: PLEASE.

Arianne looked at them. Her room had been off-limits to everyone for as long as she’d lived in this house. It was her private space, the one place she could retreat to when she needed to be alone. She’d only recently let Franz in, and even that had taken her over a year.

The twins were standing in the hallway in their pajamas with their comfort objects and their hopeful faces, and they’d had a terrible day, and Uncle Franz was right there on the screen.

"Just this once," she said.

They rushed past her before she could change her mind. Lily reached the tablet first, pulling herself up onto her toes to see the screen.

"Uncle Franz! When are you coming home? Is the filming almost done? Are you eating properly? You look tired. Are you sleeping enough?"

Franz fielded the questions with the patience of someone who’d been interrogated by Lily many times before. "Soon. Almost. Yes. And yes, I’m sleeping enough. Are you sleeping enough?"

"I’m sleeping fine. Leo’s the one who stays up late practicing his words. I hear him through the door."

Leo, who had climbed onto Arianne’s bed to get a better view of the screen, ignored this revelation entirely. He lifted his tablet and held it up to the camera: BIG BROTHER.

Franz read the words and his face changed. Arianne had told him about Leo’s excitement, but seeing it firsthand — the all-caps declaration, the boy holding it up with such serious pride — was something else entirely.

"Big brother," Franz said. "That’s a very important job."

Leo nodded vigorously.

"We don’t know when the baby will arrive yet. It might take some time. These things can’t be rushed." Franz leaned closer to his camera. "But when the baby comes, Leo, you’ll be the big brother. I promise you that."

Leo lowered his tablet. Looked at the screen. Then he nodded once, the small certain nod he used when words weren’t necessary.

"Okay," Arianne said, placing a hand on each twin’s shoulder. "Bedtime. Say goodnight to Uncle Franz."

"Goodnight Uncle Franz!" Lily waved enthusiastically. "Come home soon! We crossed off more days on the calendar!"

Leo held up his tablet one more time: GOODNIGHT UNCLE FRANZ. BIG BROTHER OUT.

They scrambled off the bed and out the door, Lily already talking about what they’d do tomorrow, Leo trailing behind her with the whale under his arm. The door clicked shut. The room settled.

Arianne returned to her bed and picked up the tablet. Franz was still smiling, the kind of smile that softened the tired lines around his eyes.

"Now I feel pressured," he said.

"You don’t have to be. Whether we have a child or not, I’m fine. I’ve always been fine."

He didn’t answer that directly. The smile stayed, but something behind it was thoughtful. After a moment, he said, "I had a conversation with Monica today. About the agency. About the contract."

"Tell me."

He did. Monica’s suggestion. The small talent agency. Independence without isolation. Sam as the first artist. Daryll managing. Monica running operations. He laid it out for her the way Monica had laid it out for him, and Arianne listened the way she always listened — completely, without interrupting.

When he finished, she said, "It makes sense. A small agency gives you control without leaving you stranded. But you might have a hard time securing projects and contracts at first unless you have prior connections in place before you leave. And you shouldn’t mention anything to your current agency yet. It could cause tension if they find out you’re planning to leave before you’re ready to announce it."

"I agree. On both counts." He paused. "Could you help me? At least with the planning stage. I need someone who understands business structure, and Monica is excellent at logistics but she’s not—"

"A CEO?"

"I was going to say ’you.’"

She almost smiled. "I don’t mind helping with the planning. Just prepare the business plan you have in mind, and I’ll review it."

"Thank you." He hesitated. "I’m sorry for adding more work to your plate. I know the end of the year is already—"

"I’m your wife. It’s my responsibility to aid you." She paused, and something crossed her face. "And it’s not like it’s the first time I’ve helped you."

Franz went still. "What do you mean?"

"Alex never told you?"

"Alex never told me anything."

Arianne set her moisturizer down and leaned back against her pillows. She’d kept this secret for years without intending to keep it at all. She’d never thought to mention it. It had been business. Practical. Nothing worth discussing.

"In the past, Alex and I used to invest in your early projects," she said. "To help secure your roles. When productions were shaky and funding was uncertain, we’d pitch in. It was a long time ago. Your first few years in the industry."

Franz stared at her through the screen. "I never knew. Did Alex ask you to?"

"Alex presented it as a business opportunity. He never framed it as an obligation. He said, ’Franz has a role in a production that might fold. The numbers work. Do you want in?’ And I said yes."

"Every time?"

"Every time."

He was still for a long moment, absorbing this. Arianne watched his face move through surprise, then something softer, then a wonder that he didn’t try to hide. "No wonder," he said finally. "During those early years, it was so hard to hold onto roles. Projects would fall apart overnight. I knew Alex was helping somehow — he’d tell me not to worry, that the funding was secure, that I should just focus on the work. But I never knew you were involved."

"Alex kept it private at my request. I didn’t want you to feel obligated."

"Obligated to what?"

"To me. To feel grateful. To feel like you owed me something." She met his eyes through the screen. "I didn’t do it so you’d owe me. I did it because it made sense."

"Did you earn your investment back?"

Arianne laughed. A real laugh, low and warm. "Oh, I did. Several times over. You were a good investment, Franz Rochefort."

He shook his head slowly, the wonder still there in his face.

"All this time. You were there all this time, and I had no idea."

"I was there for Alex. And for you. Even when you didn’t know it."

He didn’t speak for a long moment. Then he said, "If you’re willing to be a partner in the agency, I’d like that. I’d like that very much."

"I already told you. Prepare the business plan, and we’ll talk numbers."

"You really are my lucky star," he said. "You know that?"

Arianne didn’t answer. She didn’t look away either, and after a moment, the corner of her mouth curved upward in a smile that was just for him.

"Goodnight, Franz."

"Goodnight, Aria."

The screen went dark. The room was still. Down the hall, the twins were asleep, the calendar on the refrigerator with another day crossed off. And Arianne sat alone in her room, the ghost of a smile still on her face, thinking about investments and agencies and the man who’d called her his lucky star.