Chapter 7

  Milo ran into Loriella Leritaila’s office, sweat soaking the back of his button up dress shirt that was pinned beneath water resistant fabric of his Leritaila 500 series blazer, which trapped such “exposing weaknesses” such as sweat between the inner lining of his coat and his skin, making his apparel extremely uncomfortable to wear while maintaining a perfectly presentable and professional appearance. Mistress Lori, the only title Milo was permitted to call his master and mentor by, demanded that he show no weakness when handling affairs in her name or his, as he represented her even when representing herself.

  “Mistress Lori, Provosco is demanding a cease and desist on our Faberge dragon-egg line of décor, claiming we are breaking intrinsic copyright regulations on his embroidered Jīnjī-egg vignette, as well as compensation for damages accrued through breach of intellectual property, quoting galactic IP protection protocol. He also has Judge Seffmier in his corner, who has refused my request for a continuance on the grounds of insufficient claim to the copyright licensing of our product.” Milo placed an envelope of documents on her desk as he juggled his folder on his left elbow while sifting through paperwork using his right hand and chin to keep his portfolio from spreading and making a mess.

  “Hmmm, and what is your defense for the case?” She asked non-committedly as she ignored the packet, pushing it to the edge of her desk as she browsed entries for her newest fashion line submitted by interns who’d earned the right to present their entries in the upcoming fashion show to be held next month.

  “Well, I have the Solar-dragons backing to start. Our eggs are engraved and provided by the Dragon’s Guild directly and are cleared through the Sacred Beast headquarters as an official sponsorship between the sentient beast races and humanoid races.” Milo said, drawing on his memories of galactic fair practice laws that applied to the case.

  “Provosco will argue that there is no precedence to back our argument.” Lori cocked a pristine eyebrow at Milo as she lit a cigarrete and leaned back in her Velkin Contour 1/5, giving the boy her full attention.

  “Ah, but there is!” Milo said victoriously as he presented another set of documents to his mistress, who took them and began rifling through the paperwork.

  “Gilded Feather sect v. Golden divine emporium 1,572, a dispute regarding the nature of the use of divine feathers in pillows and blankets within the universal hospitality market. Judge Willow-Mathis determined that materials provided with direct consent from sacred beast-folk delegates hold intrinsic value over the rightful acquisition of materials obtained via claim through conquest or battle. All of Provosco’s eggs are obtained through contracted adventurers and are processed artificially by jewelers of the humanoid races.” Milo said, trying hard to not to let his excitement show on his face. He had spent the last three weeks with Darlya, his assigned paralegal, pouring over past cases before stumbling across this buried case.

  “Which means-”

  “Which means you have a two-hundred thousand year-old case from a judge that we’re not sure is even alive anymore and is almost guaranteed to not be willing to back us in front of a jury, even if we could track him down” his mentor drawled, handing the documents back to Milo, her face not revealing even a hint of what she was thinking.

  “Oh, but that’s the kicker” Milo smiled victoriously, unable to hide the smugness he felt as he pulled out a signed affidavit and held it up, pinched between index finger and thumb.

  “Not only did was I able to track him down, but he’s willing to testify on our behalf before the panel.” He finished as he cocked an eyebrow back at his stoic mistress.

  “Well then, it looks like you have this in the bag, why bring it to me?” Lori asked as a sly smirk creeped along the edges of her perfect lips.

  “Well, uh, y-you’re going to-” Milo fumbled his words nervously, not understanding the pointed look he was getting from his master.

  “No, Milo, you’re going to handle this case on your own.”

  “M-mistress, I can’t, I haven’t even done a pro-bono case, much less-”

  “Milo, my dear boy, it’s been five years, you’ve worked over a thousand cases and have only cost me two wins in all this time. You need to give yourself the credit you deserve. I can’t caudle you forever” Lori said, standing and collecting her things as she made to leave.

  “After you’ve solidified our claim on the Faberge industry, it’s time to begin your martial training.” She said as she walked off without looking back.

  “And what if I lose?” Milo shouted after her.

  “Then you better hope you are assassinated before I get my hands on you” She responded in a cheerful tone as she waved a perfectly manicure hand over her shoulder before putting out her cigarette in metallic ashtray before disappearing through the beaded curtains that led into the main lobby of her boutique.

  “Fuck, me.” Milo whispered as his shoulders slumped, a nagging sense of dread tugging at the back of his mind.

  “I’m sorry Milo GoldHand, but Mistress Lori expressly forbids employee fraternization in all of her businesses, so this is not a request I can assist you in.” Came a high-pitched, drone-like yet feminine voice from behind the boy.

  “Aw shit, fuck, who the” Milo jumped what he felt to be a foot in the air, arms flying up to cover his head and papers flying everywhere as if he were in an atmospheric hurricane drill.

  “Daryla, I told you not to sneak up on me like that!” Milo complained as he bent down to pick up the binder and papers that had spread across the floor.

  “I did not sneak up on you, in fact I intentionally stepped heavily as I walked up, as well as announcing my arrival at the door. You are simply so inattentive of your surroundings that I can’t help but to feel it would be a simple task to assassinate you should you fail to win this case. By the way, I am willing to assist you with this task, with proper compensation, of course. And to assuage your worries, I am forty-seven percent certain of an instant kill, and ninety-four percent certain I can kill you within two strikes” Daryla said in her emotionless manner of speech, as a saber-length stinger protruded to a needle point from the insectoid’s abdomen.

  Daryla was Vespirnettle, a humanoid insect race that was the product of a Nettle Faery falling in love with their Vespidaeic familiar millions of years ago. She was about four feet in height with long, powerful legs and two sets of arms. An abdomen twice the size of her torso extended out behind her and a sleek black and gold layer of chitin protected her like armor. She had a fairy-like face with no ears or nose, large compound eyes and row upon row of sharp mandibles in lieu of teeth behind exaggerated lips.

  The vespirnettle wore a sunlight-yellow tailored Leritaila suit from the Hive-Chique clothing line their mistress had designed. One thing that all who were close to Loriella Leritaila knew was that the woman liked to act tough and pretend she was heartless, and for the most part she really was, but beneath her callous exterior, Lori had a soft, motherly side, and that side had a weakness. She was an absolute sucker for orphans, as she had been an orphan herself as a child.

  She had discovered Daryla’s egg during her travels after stopping at a meteor that supposedly had hot springs with healing sulphites the aided with detoxing the meridians. The supposed hot springs were actually fossilized incubation sacks that held the eggs of the vespirnettle for years before someone found an asteroid belt and exposed the pockets full of nutrient rich amniotic fluids. Years after Lorietta had found and hatched Daryla and figured out her race had been all but wiped out she’d taken it upon herself to make the girl feel welcome and included in society.

  Milo had always felt that it was because of this reason that she was so harsh and critical of him but always so supportive and warm with Daryla and the other orphans she employed. He was a pampered rich brat after all and hadn’t experienced true struggle or rejection. Though he internally argued that no struggle could be considered worse than working for the tyrant of a woman. All that aside though he worked as hard as he could both to be a good lawyer and successful entrepreneur. He also really enjoyed Daryla’s company, morbid and emotionless as she was, they had become close friends over thew years.

  “You couldn’t pierce through my iron skin in two hits, and you know it.” Milo said confidently, “Can I count on you in this case?” He asked hopefully, knowing that the girl in front of him was four hands down the deadliest paralegal in the galaxy, for multiple reasons.

  “No” said Daryla without a second thought.

  “Ok, good, so what I was thinking is we’ll strong-arm Provosco’s suppliers, we’ll explain to them that once Provosco see’s things are going south for him he’ll use them as scapegoats to avoid a countersuit… Wait, what’d you just say?” Milo froze, His friend had never once said no to him before.

  “I do not wish to be assassinated. The mistress clearly stated you must do this on your own, and I have a less than ten percent chance of surviving if I were to pierce myself through the eye with my stinger. Should we lose, of course. Also I do not need to prove myself to mistress, she told me I will always be her specially buzzy bug and that she will always love me.” Daryla said nonchalantly as if she weren’t talking about spearing herself in the face.

  “That doesn’t make any sense, Dar, why would she want you assassinated if you’re her favorite? She won’t be mad at you if you helped me.” Milo huffed out, coming to a stop in the hallway they walked down while they conversed, he threw his hands in the air and let them fall to his side.

  “You are correct.” Daryla said, turning to look milo.

  “Yes! So, you-” Milo’s face lit up before falling once again at Daryla’s next words, as she continued on without letting Donny speak.

  “You are correct, Mistress would indeed not be upset with me. But she would be very disappointed in you. She has faith that you will succeed, and she is proud of your achievements. But, if you cut corners or cheat your way to victory or rely on the aid of others, she would be very distraught and will lose faith in you. I do not wish for her to be sad, nor do I wish for you to fail. But I also will not be a bad friend and deny you this opportunity to grow and improve and show the rest of us that you’re not just some pampered rich kid who relied on others to get where he’s at” And with that, Daryla walked off. Milo stared, jaw almost dropping to the floor as stood there, frozen in place. Lorietta was doing this… for him?

  …

  “Elder Sunfire, is it not true that before my client started his Jīnjī-egg vignette decor line, he had come to you as a prospective stakeholder and investor, and you had refused him? You claimed that you refused the acquisition by humanoid races of any and all dragon eggs, claiming that using the stillborn shells of your clan’s unborn children was sacrilege and that asking for such a thing was disgraceful and showed the true greedy nature of the humanoid races?” Yared Johnston, Lawyer for the Provosco company, laid into Storms Bane Sunfire, elder of the Solar dragons.

  Yared was a very large man, at around five and a half feet tall, it seemed his width was in competition with his height for his greatest asset, his almost circular body being supported by legs that seemed impossibly thin beneath his mass. He had greasy, slicked back hair, and the brownish-green skin of a Goblelf, a mix between a Hobgoblin and a high elf, covered with a fine tailored, black-red suit that seemed to move and stretch with the movements of his body. Rings and body jewelry decorated the man from his fingers to his face. Long, pointed ears hung behind the mains head from the weight of the metal, wooden, and jeweled rings and studs dragging them back like the grease in his hair.

  While the green-skinned lawyer was short and round, Storms Bane Sunfire was truly massive. While in his skin-covered avatar he stood well over eight feet tall. He had broad shoulders and a large chest, he wore a collared polo t-shirt and a clip-on tie, biceps bulging beneath the sleeves. In place of hair were rows of short, jagged horns covered in light-brown scales that more resembled freckles than anything. The same small scales speckled the Dragon’s face from forehead, down across the wide brow above his crimson eyes, and down to his broad chin and jaw. The large dragon in humanoid skin cut an imposing figure in comparison to all but his clansmen, and even they were small in contrast.

  “Objection, your honor, that’s a leading question” Milo called, hand in the air as he stood up from his seat.

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  “Sustained. Johnston, please remember we are in a court room, not an interrogation.” Judge Ellen Malterez.

  “Acknowledged, your honor” Yared said, giving the Judge a disarming smile before turning back to Elder Sunfire, pulling out a series of papers and placing them on the crystal projector that displayed its contents on a large white screen to one side of the courtroom, showing receipts for purchases made for three different Embroidered eggs, red highlighter circling the names of prominent Sunfire clan members.

  “Elder Sunfire, it is my understanding that multiple purchases of my client’s product were made by members of your clan months before the Leritaila line of Faberge eggs were released. Are these purchases something you were aware of?” Johnston asked, a smug look of content on his face.

  “W-Well yes, I approved these purchases, we wanted to-” Elder Sunfire began.

  “And did you personally study these eggs in the time frame before the confirmed design of the Leritaila décor line was released?” Johnston continued, increasing the pressure on the witness.

  “Yes. Yes, I did. I wanted to determine the amount of stress the shells could withstand before damaging the integrity of the egg.” Sunfire said, locking gazes with Milo as he responded. Milo felt a chill run down his spine from the intimidating glare.

  “The integrity of the egg you say. Was integrity a concern when you blatantly imitated the core runes of my client’s product?”

  “Objection, your honor! Argume-” Milo stepped to intervene but was cut off by Yared before he could intervene.

  “No further questions, your honor.” Yared collected his paperwork, shooting Milo a cocky smirk before returning to his seat.

  “Your honor, I would like to converse with my client.” Milo said, hands shaking as dread began to fill his chest.

  “You have five minutes.” Judge Malterez said, giving Milo a pointed look as she stood.

  As Milo walked into the attorney-client conference room, he rubbed his hands on his pant legs, panicking as he tried to control his breathing.

  “What the fuck was that?” He hissed at Sunfire accusingly as the dragon elder followed him into the room.

  “Careful how you speak to me, boy.” The dragon in human form growled back, eyes narrowed.

  “Three eggs. You had your subordinates buy three fucking eggs, and what? That just happened to slip your mind?” Milo cried out, trying and failing to control the volume of his voice.

  “I needed to make sure there was a way to Inscribe the eggs without damaging them! They may be nothing but fancy decorative items to you two-legged, but those eggs mean much more to my people!” Sunfire roared, the sound-proofing runes shaking as they struggled to counter the power in the dragon’s voice.

  “You gave them evidence that we weren’t ready for! Did you not stop to think that maybe Provosco’s people don’t give two shits about why you bought those eggs?” Milo scowled back, the difference in power and status be damned.

  “We told you that we needed confirmation that this venture wouldn’t destroy our eggs, what did you think that meant?” a trickle of aura began to form around the dragon, like heatwaves from a hot summer day reflecting from surface of an asphalt road.

  Milo stared back in anger, clicking his tongue in disbelief at the thick-headed dragon-man in front of him. Turning around, he stalked out the door opposite from the courtroom, slamming it behind him as Storms Bane called out from behind “Where are you going? You can’t just wa-” his client’s voice was cut off by the sound-proofing wards as the door slammed shut.

  Milo struggled to breathe as he crossed the hallway, walking into the room adjacent and slamming his hands on the table in the room as his mind spun, struggling to find an answer to the situation he was in.

  “Ah, yes, class please welcome Milo GoldHand, one of lady Leritaila’s personal disciples and a… talented… lawyer. Have you come to offer guidance to these young, aspiring interns?” The last voice Milo wanted to hear echoed off the wooden walls of the conference room, pronouncing his family name as though it were foul and emphasizing the word young in a bid to mock Milo’s age. The man had always used Milo’s age as a point of contentment but had always treated him like a true adversary regardless of his discontent.

  Looking up, Milo’s face went pale as he looked around at the faces of interns staring at him from their seats around the massive table. Lewitt Littus, son of Lyon Littus, and heir to the Littus family. A small family of elites that had produced some of the most prodigious lawyers, judges, doctors in the entire universe. An extremely talented lawyer, as well as Milo’s most hated enemy, but also his most respected rival, gave him a look of pure venom as he stuck his chin in the air and grinned mischievously.

  Milo could’ve died right there and been happy, but he cleared his throat and straightened his spine while adjusting the tie on his neck. Meeting Lewitt’s gaze, he raised his upper lip in disgust before beaming a toothy smile, “Lewitt, I was told to come and offer you guidance in your first intern orientation. Please, continue, and I’ll give my input if I feel you need it.” Milo gave off an imperious air as he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe.

  Milo had been leading intern orientation for two years and had become a legend of sorts for his ability to inspire and motivate his classes. Lewitt had always been jealous and had filed multiple complaints stating that he would be a much better fit for the promotion, justifying his claims by stating his age and years of experience. But numbers always spoke the truth, and the 32% Increase in hiring potential for their firm from prospective interns had solidified Milo’s status, to the point that Lewitt had given up trying to replace him. In fact, Milo would have been tutoring this year’s class as well had he not had a case to attend on this day.

  “Very well, we were just discussing the case of Galactibrew v. Starcups 1756, In which Galactibrew won their case using the defense-”

  “That there melorous-bean coffee brew couldn’t possibly breach galactic IP laws because no matter how similar their blend was, melorous bean came from a different plant. And, regardless of the fact that it was a caffeine producing seed, commonly used to produce coffee, it was outside of the Rubiaceae family. Thus, could not be considered as an imitation of the product brewed from arabica seed that Starcups used.” Milo breathed out, voice becoming more excited as he spoke. His thoughts spun as he began to piece together an idea.

  “Lewitt, you’re the fucking man! All of you, pay attention to what this guy says, he’s a wonderful lawyer, almost as good as me!” Milo shouted as he blasted through the door, bumping into people without care as he shoved his way back into the door across the hall, where an empty conference room sat, free of Elder Sunfire’s presence.

  Rushing back into the room, Milo shouted “I would like to call Mark Provosco to the stand!”

  Judge Malterez was centimeters away from slamming down her gavel when her hand froze, turning to address Milo “Mr. GoldHand, how nice of you to join us, your client had just requested a deferral, are you sure you would like to continue. If you choose to do so, be warned that I will demand a decision today.” She said, a chorus of whispers filling the room as Elder Sunfire gave Milo a contemptuous look.

  “I am sure, your honor.” Milo said as he adjusted his blazer and stepped up the bench.

  While Yared Johnston was large in a cartoon-villain kind of way, his client was large in a science-fiction villain kind of way. Rolls of fat hung from every part of the man’s body, and Milo couldn’t help but joke in his mind that his chin had a chin. The combination of lawyer and client cut a perfect duo.

  Muttering under his breath, Mark Provosco took his place at the witness stand.

  “Mr. Provosco, do you recall the case of Provosco V. Que-Florence 2130?” Milo asked as the court began to settle behind him.

  “Of course I do! Those tyrants tried to claim that my line of aquaporin leather snow jackets are an imitation of their astral whale hide winter series” Provosco stated haughtily as he scowled at Milo.

  “And what was your defense against these accusations?” Milo asked, portraying a disinterested figure as he faced the jury and shrugged.

  “Objection, I don’t see how this has to do with the case, your honor” Yared interrupted, shoulders shifting as he tried to maintain his victorious demeanor.

  “Overruled, answer the question Provosco” The judge said, propping her chin in one hand as she gave Milo a curious look.

  “Well, our product was made from an entirely different species, the materials used for the stitching and accent work were completely different due to the nature of the material from the different species.” Mark Provosco said, the confusion he felt reflecting in his face.

  “Would you agree that the intrinsic differences of the material, the delicate and brittle nature of the aquaporin compared to the soft yet tough hide of the astral whale and the fact that both needed completely different stitching methods sets them apart as two completely different products, no matter the resemblance of the final product?” Milo was punctuating every word with the precision of a surgeon as he dug into the metaphorical flesh of Provosco’s argument. And as he pushed, realization began to show on the man’s now sweaty face.

  “Well yes, it was a competitive product, but it wasn’t plagiarism, that’s how we… what are you getting at, boy?” The rotund man growled, eyes forming into slits as he began to fidget in his seat.

  “Have you ever been jealous of Lorietta Leritaila, Mr. Provosco?” Milo suddenly asked, causing mark to stare at him in shock.

  “I’m sorry?” Provosco asked, adjusting his tie as he cleared his throat.

  “You’re jealous of Lorietta because she manages to come in first no matter how many times you try to top her.” Milo continued. “You can’t stand the fact that she’s on every headline of every paper, every galactic-web blog, and every billboard this corner of the universe!”

  “That has nothing to do with this!” Provosco shouted as he slammed his palms down on the bench with a resounding clap that echoed in the otherwise silent courtroom.

  “Does it not? Let me ask you this, how many of Que-Florence’s coats did your company procure for “Study” prior to the release of your… competitive product?”

  “Objection your honor, this is badgering. And this line of questioning is irrelevant, there was no evidence of my client purchasing merchandise from Que-Florence.” Yared exclaimed as the whispers echoed through the courtroom once again.

  “Sustained! Get to the point GoldHand.” Judge Malterez said as she silenced the room with a few knocks from her gavel.

  “My point is this. Yes, my client studied his competitors. Yes, the products are very similar. But at the end of the day ‘similar’ is where it ends, and Provosco knows this. This isn’t about whether the Sunfire clan committed plagiarism, this about the fact that they chose to work with Leritaila over Provosco. Those eggs are two different products, with two different manufacturing requirements and two different consumer bases.” The pitch of Milo’s voice rose and fell with the emotion of his words, an honest sense of vindication for his master helping him to reflect his passion in his speech.

  Turning to look at Yared, Milo said “No further questions, your honor.”

  “Your honor, we would like to clarify” Yared was cut off by a resounding slam of the gavel.

  “I have heard enough, Johnston! We will take an hour’s recess, following which we will have the jury’s decision.” Judge Malterez stood and allowed the officer standing guard to open the door to her office for her before storming through it as the officer turned and crossed his arms, daring any to try and follow.

  …

  “I did it, Daryla, I fuckin did it!” Milo pumped his left arm, punching the air, with a glass of Amarillo in his right hand.

  “If by it you mean you managed not to lose a case that you shouldn’t have struggled with in the first place, then indeed, it you have done.” Daryla said in her robotic, droning voice. Today she wore a dryad-made dress made of a type of moss-silk that had actual flowers growing on it, with faeries as small as flies flying around and attending the flowers.

  While her tone may have fooled anyone else, Milo knew she was happy for him from the fact that she wore this dress. These signature pieces of the Fae races could not be purchased, nor traded for. They were each made specifically for the person they were chosen for, and the faeries were incredibly particular about whom they selected. Each who owned one was considered a friend of the Fae, and any attempting to trade or sell the clothing would result in the item returning to the grand court of the Fae and marking them as a betrayer.

  Daryla had a very close relationship with the Fae, due her race, and only ever wore this dress when she was celebrating something. The last time she wore it was when she had been promoted to Senior Paralegal. Though she could’ve gotten her position with a single word from her adopted mother, she had chosen to spend years learning and working hard to get promoted directly by the board and had even earned the votes of those against the Lorietta family having such a strict hold on the company.

  “You should’ve seen it! That gelf thought he had me, but I then I stepped out to gather my thoughts. Next thing you know I remember that old case between Galactibrew and Starcups, and BAM! It hits me. I… what’s wrong Dar?” Milo slowly stopped talking and walking as he saw Daryla’s shoulders slump and her head drop; he had obviously upset her somehow.

  “I am glad you beat that goblinoid-elf hybrid lawyer, and I hope you enjoy celebrating such an inferior creature. I must go for I am pretending that I’m very busy to avoid you.” Darlya said, stomping a foot that cracked the ground as she stormed off down the road they’d been walking on.

  “Oh, Daryla, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry…you’re not supposed to tell me that you’re avoiding me!” Milo called after her as he realized his mistake.

  ‘Gelf’ was a derogatory way to say someone was a mix-bread of the goblinoid and elven species. It was a term mainly used by those of a single race and was usually reserved for racists and those trying to pick a fight with such a being. Though Milo wasn’t a racist, he sometimes acted his age and got excited, becoming belligerent in his choice of words. Daryla was especially sensitive to such words, as she had faced plenty of bullying and ostracization due to her mixed race, even from those within the Fae.

  “Shit” Milo said to himself as she walked out of his sight.

  “Shit is right. You’re gonna have to do your own historic research for a couple days.” An amused voice spoke from next to Milo as his master strode by, a large binder in her folded arms. “And don’t ever let me hear you use a slur like that again, even against your enemies.”

  Rushing to catch up with her, Milo couldn’t help but notice the pearl necklace she was wearing, that seemed to have waves crashing within each one, tiny dolphins leaping from pearl to pearl. His master was also pleased. “Mistress Lori, I fucked up” he said through labored breathing as he had to run to keep up with the woman’s brisk walk.

  “I see that, Milo. And you’re going to have to fix it. Just so you know if it comes down to you or her, I’ll choose her every time” Lorietta gave him a cheeky grin before turning to face forward once again.

  “Wait, she wants you to fire me? No way, she would never! Hey, wait up mistress…” Milo had stopped to comment before realizing his master had gotten almost a block away during the brief pause.

  Lorietta Leritaila ignored the question as she turned into the alley leading to the back door of her boutique. Milo followed her through and into her office as she plopped down in her chair and slammed the thick binder of paperwork on her desk. Leaning into her massive chair, she kicked off her shoes and propped her feet up on the desk as she lit a cigarette.

  “Doesn’t matter. What matters is what you did not fuck up.” Lorietta spun in her chair towards her desk and slipped an envelope from within the binder, flicking it to Milo as she took a long drag from her smoke.

  “This is?” Milo asked as he opened the envelope, pulling out a check written in his master’s hand, flipping it over and back and forth before looking at her in confusion.

  “Congratulations, you’ve officially earned enough to pay for your tuition. It’s time to begin your real training.” The beautiful woman said with a warm yet simultaneously sinister smile as she put out her cigarette and stood back up.

  “But this check is written to you?” Milo said in a questioning tone.

  Walking around her desk, Lorietta stood directly in front of Milo. “I said you’ve earned enough to pay for your tuition, if you want more…” Milo’s Mistress snatched the check from Milo’s hand “You’ll have to do that on your own time”.

  “Now, come, it’s time you learned how to fight outside of the courtroom.” With that, she placed a hand on Milo’s shoulder and both of them blinked out of existence, leaving her office silent and empty.