The Coffee Shop

Alex dived behind the bar as the coffee machine exploded, sending scalding liquid everywhere. His second day on the job, and he'd already broken the most expensive tools in the shop.

"I am so fired," he muttered, looking over the edge at the mess. Brown liquid dripped from the roof. Coffee grounds covered the floor like dirt.

"Well, that's one way to make an impression," said a familiar voice.

Alex looked up to see Ethan standing there, somehow untouched by the coffee flood. He was smiling, which only made Alex feel more embarrassed.

"I swear I followed the instructions," Alex said, grabbing a mop. "I think this machine hates me."

"The machine's temperamental. You have to sweet-talk it," Ethan joked, coming behind the bar to help clean up. He wasn't meant to be back there, but nobody else was in the coffee shop this early.

Alex's heart raced as Ethan's arm brushed against his. A week had passed since the factory fight. The FBI had captured Ms. Vickers and several Noah clones, but Reed—or the man wearing his father's face—had fled. Emily was safe in FBI protection. The official story was that she'd been kidnapped by a campus stalker who was now in jail.

But Alex couldn't stop thinking about his father's face staring back at him. "Ready for a family reunion?" The words haunted his dreams.

"Earth to Alex," Ethan said, moving a hand in front of his face. "I asked if you're ok."

"Sorry. Just thinking about how I need this job." It wasn't a lie. After the FBI had moved him to a new dorm for safety, he'd needed money to pay for extra security cams and a better lock.

"Well, your secret's safe with me," Ethan offered, dumping a pile of soaked napkins into the trash. "Melissa won't fire you if she doesn't find out."

"Thanks." Alex smiled gratefully. Despite everything they'd been through, things between them were still awkward. They'd barely had time to talk about the almost-kiss before the world burst around them.

The bell jingled as the door opened. Three students walked in, and Alex quickly finished mopping while Ethan returned to the customer side of the bar.

"I'll have my usual," Ethan said loudly, trying to be just another customer.

Alex nodded, relieved that at least one of his tasks would be easy. He'd learned Ethan's coffee order months ago: large cold brew with a splash of almond milk and two pumps of caramel.

As he worked, Alex kept looking at Ethan, who had settled at his usual table by the window. Sunlight caught in his dark hair, and Alex's fingers itched to record the moment in a sketch.

"Daydreaming about your boyfriend?" teased Jasmine, appearing beside him in her Starbucks apron. It was her first day too—she'd gotten them both jobs here after the factory incident, saying they needed a "normal" activity.

"He's not my boyfriend," Alex whispered furiously.

"Not yet," Jasmine winked. "But he could be if you'd stop being so scared."

"I'm not—" Alex started, but another customer stopped.

The morning rush kept them busy for the next two hours. Alex messed up several orders but managed to escape any more explosions. Through it all, Ethan stayed at his table, studying and occasionally catching Alex's eye with a smile.

When the shop finally cleared, Jasmine nudged Alex. "Go talk to him. I'll cover the counter."

Alex paused, then grabbed Ethan's empty cup. "Need a refill?"

"Yes, please," Ethan said, closing his biology notebook. "How's the new job going?"

"Besides almost destroying the place? Great." Alex sat down across from him. "How are you feeling? Your side still hurting?"

Ethan shrugged. "The doctor says I'm healing well. Another week and I can go back to the gym."

They fell quiet, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between them.

"Alex—" Ethan began.

"I think my father's alive," Alex blurted out. He hadn't told anyone except the FBI about seeing his father's face at the plant. "The man at the factory—Reed or whoever he is—he had my dad's face."

Ethan's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"I'd recognize him anywhere." Alex's voice cracked. "Which means he faked his death. He left me alone all these years, thinking I had no family left."

"Maybe it wasn't really him," Ethan offered gently. "Maybe it was just another trick, like with Noah's face."

"But why use my father's face? How would they even know what he looked like?"

Before Ethan could answer, Alex's phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: Look under your table.

Confused, Alex reached beneath the table and felt a small item taped to the underside. He pulled it free—a small USB drive with a note wrapped around it: The truth about your family.

"What is it?" Ethan asked, leaning forward.

"I don't know, but—"

The coffee shop door flew open, and three guys in dark suits walked in. They weren't FBI—Alex had spent enough time with agents to recognize the difference. These men moved differently, scanning the room with cold precision.

"We need to go," Alex whispered, shoving the USB drive into his pocket. "Now."

Ethan didn't ask questions. He grabbed his backpack as Alex rushed back to the counter.

"Bathroom break," he told Jasmine, his voice frantic. "Cover for me?"

She looked at the men, then nodded slightly. "Five minutes."

Alex and Ethan slipped into the back hallway, past the bathrooms to the escape exit.

"Wait," Ethan said, pulling Alex to a stop. "What if it's a trap?"

"What if it is?" Alex replied. "I need to know the truth about my family."

The emergency exit bell would sound if they opened the door. Instead, Alex led Ethan through the storage room to a small window.

"You first," he said, giving Ethan a push up.

Once they were both outside in the alley behind the coffee shop, they ran. They didn't stop until they reached the art building, which was mostly empty between classes.

In an empty classroom, they found a computer and plugged in the USB drive.

"Should we really open this?" Ethan asked. "What if it's a virus or something?"

"I have to know," Alex insisted, clicking on the only file—a movie labeled "WATCH ME."

The screen flickered, then showed a familiar face. Sophia—his sister—stared back at him, looking tired but alive.

"Alex, if you're seeing this, then you know our father is alive," she started. "What you don't know is why he faked our deaths. Or why I did too."

Alex's hand found Ethan's and squeezed tight.

"I'm sorry for what happened at the factory," Sophia added. "I didn't know they were going to hurt your friends. I thought I was protecting you by staying away."

She glanced off-camera, looking worried. "I don't have much time. They're watching me. But you need to know that dad isn't evil—he's being controlled. The real person behind all this is—"

The video cut off quickly.

"No!" Alex shouted, clicking furiously to restart it. "No, come back!"

"Alex," Ethan said quietly, pointing to something on the screen.

A new file had appeared on the drive, a position tracker blinking red. Someone was coming for the USB drive—and they were already in the building.

"We need to hide," Ethan whispered.

They hurried to the supply closet just as footsteps echoed down the passageway. Through the crack in the door, Alex watched as a familiar figure entered the classroom.

Professor Reed—still wearing his father's face—walked straight to the computer and removed the USB drive.

"I know you're here, Alex," he called out. "Your sister wants to see you. It's time to come home."

Ethan's grip tightened on Alex's hand. They hardly dared to breathe.

Reed smiled coldly. "You think you're clever, hiding in the closet. But I've always known where you are."

He walked toward the closet door, reaching for the handle. Alex pressed back against the wall, heart pounding.

The door swung open—but the closet was empty. Reed frowned in confusion.

Meanwhile, Alex and Ethan dangled dangerously from the small window high in the closet wall, having climbed the shelves to reach it. As Reed turned away, they slipped through the hole onto the narrow ledge outside.

"He's insane," Ethan whispered as they inched along the ledge toward another window. "That's not your father. It can't be."

But deep down, Alex wasn't sure anymore. The face, the voice, even the way he moved—it was exactly like his dad.

As they reached the next window, Alex's foot slipped. He would have fallen three floors if Ethan hadn't grabbed him. They tumbled through the window together, landing in a heap on the floor of the art workshop.

"Thanks," Alex gasped.

Ethan didn't let go of him. "Alex, what if what your sister said is true? What if your dad is being controlled somehow?"

Before Alex could answer, his phone buzzed again. Another text from the unknown number: Coffee shop. 8 PM. Come alone if you want to see your sister living.

"I have to go," Alex said.

"We have to go," Ethan corrected him. "I'm not letting you face this alone."

Alex looked into Ethan's determined eyes and felt something warm expand in his chest. Despite everything, despite all the danger, he wasn't alone anymore.

"Tonight at eight," he agreed. "But first, we need a plan."

As they hurried from the building, neither spotted the small camera in the corner of the studio, recording their every move. On the other end of the feed, a man with Alex's father's face smiled.

"That's right, son," he whispered. "Bring Ethan with you. I need you both."