​

Around the table, everyone had finally begun to relax, and even Georgia had surrendered.

After commanding the kitchen like a general preparing for battle, she untied her scarf, holding back her hair and adjusted her curls before finally sitting down.

This year, everyone seemed determined to leave behind a good memory, perhaps because everyone knew it might be the last one.

Although nobody had mentioned moving out, or even dared to say the word sale, the possibility hung above them all like the summer heat trapped beneath the old Victorian roof.

Everyone had noticed that earlier that morning, Daniel and the solicitor had disappeared into the study for more than an hour.

When they finally emerged, nobody received an explanation.

Had the papers been signed?

Was the house really going to be sold and the Seaview House about to become nothing more than another address on a developer's plan?

Nobody knew and Daniel had not looked pleased.

He had disappeared almost immediately into his sanctuary, the study, leaving Claire to do what Claire always did: soften the sharp edges everyone else left behind.

She tried to lift the heavy silence that had settled over the house like a thick wool blanket in the middle of summer.

Outside was no better; the fierce Australian sun had exhausted even the birds. The garden had fallen into a sleepy afternoon silence, broken only by the rough calls of a group of cockatoos arguing somewhere among the trees.

But now evening had arrived, and the bay breeze slipped through the open windows.

The food and wine had softened hearts and loosened tongues, and the dangerous quiet moment when nobody spoke had passed.

Now everyone was talking, and as usual, nobody was listening.

Almost nobody but Daniel noticed Ty.

The young man had become unusually quiet. His phone vibrated once, then again, and Ty glanced at the screen, and the smile disappeared from his face.

Daniel watched him from across the table.

Ty felt his stare and simply shrugged, pretending it was nothing. He thought he knew how to perform.  It was a performance of sorts because Daniel knew bad performances because he had sat through enough project reviews.

A few moments later, Ty pushed back his chair.

"Back in a minute."

Nobody paid attention, and Eleanor was explaining loudly why seagulls had better negotiation skills than politicians.

Jack was disagreeing, and Georgia was finally eating. Michael unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and lost his tie while pouring another glass of wine for himself and Georgia. It wasn’t a good form to drink alone, and he knew well that she would not refuse, because now, for a moment, she felt part of the family.

Daniel waited, but not too long,just enough that nobody would notice.

Then he carefully wiped his mouth with the pressed white napkin, placed it beside his plate, and stood.

Without a word, he disappeared into the long hallway after Ty, and nobody noticed.

Except Claire. Claire always noticed when Daniel left a room. Ty Parker had a theory about success.

Most people were only one moment away from changing their lives: one viral video, one amazing idea, or one incredible opportunity when somebody finally noticed them.

Unfortunately, after seven years of trying, the internet appeared determined not to notice Ty Parker ,which he considered extremely unreasonable.

He sat on the veranda steps of Seaview House, the laughter from dinner drifting behind him through the open French doors.

Inside, the family continued eating, and outside, Ty looked at his phone. He texted something , deleted it, and wrote again. He put the pen in his pocket and looked at the sky. A bit more relieved, he heard a ping , read, and his shoulders relaxed - it seemed all was good. Now he just took the phone and checked the apps this time, no smile: refreshed again.

The numbers did not change.

His latest video had fifty-three views.

Four likes and one comment from his mother.

Looking handsome, sweetheart. Don’t forget your jacket, it’s cold. Mum ❤️

Ty closed his eyes because he knew well that nothing destroyed a mysterious online image faster than a public reminder to wear warm clothes.

He deleted the notification, then felt guilty about restoring it.

Because Georgia Parker was many things: loud, embarrassing.

But impossible to ignore, not by him anyway

But she was also the only person who believed in him, even when he stopped believing in himself.

The problem was everyone else:Daniel had his ship, Claire, and the house. What else did he need ?

Michael, with his mines, was coming and going on adventures, and money seemed to find him everywhere, and Jack, with his spreadsheets and never-ending games of cards, somehow always won. They all knew he was counting the acrsa nd he was brilliant at playing cards and others' money.

Men who built things,fixed things, dug for gold, owned things and had power.

They looked at the world and left proof they had been there. Ty looked at his screen, and it looked black and empty.

"Stupid algorithm," he whispered.

He knew people laughed, but not cruelly, and that was almost worse.

Nobody hated Ty because nobody expected enough from him to hate him.

They smiled and patiently waited, assuming he would eventually grow up.

He hated those words:Grow up.

As if dreams were a childhood illness everyone eventually recovered from.

His phone vibrated, and it wasn’t a “like” or an SMS. It was a full message from an unknown number.

Ty stared at it. He should delete it.

He knew that, but after hesitating a moment instead, he opened it.

Still interested?

Below was an attachment of an old newspaper clipping with a photograph of Seaview House.

Much younger, when I was in the black-and-white photo, was a different garden.

Then the next message arrived.

Everyone has a story. Some people just pay more to keep theirs quiet.

Ty felt his stomach tighten, and he remembered that two weeks ago it had seemed almost harmless, just a prank or a bad joke when somebody researched a documentary about the house's history.

People loved secrets and mysteries, and Seaview House had plenty of both.

The person online had offered to help make him  an instant viral success if he could help them find some old records, archives, documents, and stories forgotten by time. But now he just felt that he was just using him and was not exactly sure what for. The problem was that some forgotten things were forgotten for a reason.

The door behind him opened.

Ty quickly locked the screen, too quickly for Daniel to notice.

Of course, he did because engineers noticed everything except emotions.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Building my empire."

Daniel looked at the empty veranda.

"Quiet empire."

"Early stages."

"I see."

Which meant Daniel absolutely did not see, but he had time, and he leaned against the railing.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Across Hobsons Bay, fireworks from early celebrations flickered above the water.

"How much?" Daniel finally asked.

Ty looked up and pushed his hands hard into his pockets .

"What?"

"The debt."

The words were spoken loudly but  landed harder than an accusation.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You looked exactly like a project manager hiding a budget problem."

"Wow. Inspirational where did dig that from your books?"

"Usually when people avoid numbers, it's because the numbers are bad."

Ty looked away while Daniel waited, seemingly taking an interest in the rose bush in the corner of the veranda.

He was very good at waiting; ships took years to build and even more years to modify and repair, but Ty lasted only seventeen seconds.

"Not that much."

"How much?"

Silence.

"Ty."

The way Daniel said his name was worse than anger; it was just cold.

"About thirty thousand."

For once, Daniel looked surprised.

Actually surprised.

"Thirty?"

"I invested."

"In what?"

"Myself."

Daniel said nothing, and the silence just sat like a black water.

"Courses. Equipment. Marketing. Advertising. You have to spend money to make money."

"Sometimes."

"What does that mean?"

"Sometimes you spend money and just have less money."

"Thanks. Very motivational."

Daniel looked towards the bay and spoke again, this time in a softer tone.

"I didn't say dreams were wrong."

That surprised Ty.

"You didn't?"

"No."

"But you think my dream is stupid."

"I think your plan is."

"Same thing."

"No."

Daniel turned back.

"That's the mistake."

For once, Ty had no answer, and from inside the house, Eleanor began playing piano again, this time softly, almost sadly, and both listened for a moment.

"Everyone fails, Ty."

"You don't."

Daniel smiled a strange smile of a man, slightly, he saw too many smart people failing sometimes and even too many good people other times.

"You'd be surprised."

Something about the way he said it made Ty uncomfortable.

Daniel was no longer talking about the past.

"Does Mum know?" Daniel asked.

Ty almost laughed.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I enjoy being alive."

"Georgia isn't that terrifying."

"She once made a Telstra manager apologise."

Daniel considered this.

"Fair point."

They both smiled just for a small moment, a rare one in the silent night.

Then Ty's phone vibrated again, and both men looked down:another message.

Midnight. Last chance.

Daniel saw it before Ty could hide it.

The smile disappeared.

"Who sent that?"

"No one."

"Ty."

"It's nothing."

Daniel looked at him for a long moment.

The old engineer's expression returned that look of a man who solved problems, but sometimes he felt it made people feel like broken machinery, and he didn’t know how to fix them.

"Stay away from this."

"From what?"

Daniel did not answer, and that scared Ty more than anything.

Because Daniel Mason always had an answer :always.

Before Ty could ask again, Daniel walked back inside, leaving him alone with the phone and  the  last message.

He swallowed twice, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for once, he had created something online that had become dangerously real.