Author's Preface
"Come on."
Employees were already flowing through the revolving doors.
"We're late."
Together, they stepped inside. The lobby was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows filled the space with light. Bookshelves lined the walls with books in many languages. Above the reception desk, an installation of floating glass pages caught the sunlight like suspended paper.
Clara couldn't stop looking. Every corner whispered stories. Every hallway promised imagination. It felt less like entering an office... And more like stepping into the place she had unknowingly searched for her entire life.
She smiled before she could stop herself.
Maybe... Just maybe...
If she had to be trapped in another life. It could not have chosen a more dangerous place for someone who had always loved stories.
By the time Clara reached the Children’s Literature Department, she had already told herself several times not to look as lost as she felt.
The office took up almost a whole floor of Nordlys Publishing Group, separated from the rest by glass walls etched with scenes from classic children’s books.
Warm wooden bookshelves lined the room, filled with picture books, early copies of new releases, and framed artwork from award-winning illustrators.
It didn't feel like an office. It felt like stepping inside a story. Desks were grouped in clusters instead of rows, making it easy for editors, designers, proofreaders, and illustrators to talk. Soft instrumental music played through hidden speakers, mixing with the smell of coffee, paper, and ink.
Clara stopped for the briefest moment.This... This had once been nothing more than a dream.
Years ago, she had imagined herself working somewhere exactly like this while writing bedtime stories for Amara after long days of working. She never imagined she would actually stand inside one.
"Come on." Ingrid nudged her shoulder playfully. "If you keep staring, people are going to think this is your first day."
It kind of is, Clara thought. She smiled instead. "I was just... appreciating it."
"You appreciate it every morning."
"I do?"
"You always say this place smells like imagination."
Clara blinked. "...That sounds like something I'd say."
"It does."
They both laughed. As they reached their desks, Clara immediately noticed that her workstation had been kept remarkably tidy.
A computer. Several neatly stacked manuscripts. A ceramic mug filled with colored pens. Sticky notes arranged with impossible precision. And beside the monitor...
A framed photograph.
Her breath caught. It showed two young women standing beside the Oslo Opera House, laughing so hard that neither of them had noticed the camera. Her and Ingrid. She smiled before she even realized she was doing it.
Perhaps...
Even in another life...
Some people still found each other.
"Morning, Clara!" Several coworkers greeted her as they walked past.
She smiled politely, hoping they couldn't tell she had absolutely no idea who any of them were. Before she had the chance to sit down, a man wearing an HR identification badge appeared near the center of the department.
He clapped his hands lightly to gather everyone's attention. "Good morning, everyone."
Conversations gradually died down. "I'll keep this brief."
He held a folder beneath one arm as his gaze swept across the room. "Following the results of our internal investigation, the company has officially terminated Henrik Solberg's employment effective immediately."
A quiet murmur spread across the department. The HR representative continued calmly.
"The investigation confirmed repeated violations of our workplace conduct policy, including abuse of managerial authority, intimidation, and inappropriate treatment of employees."
Several people exchanged knowing glances. Clara noticed more than one person quietly nodding.
"We appreciate everyone who came forward during the review process."
His eyes shifted toward Clara. "For the time being..."
He smiled professionally. "Ms. Clara Rodriguez will serve as acting editorial coordinator while we complete the recruitment process for a permanent replacement."
For a second... Clara simply stared. "...Me?"
A few coworkers had already begun applauding. Then another joined. Soon the entire department followed.
"Congratulations!"
"You deserve it!"
"Finally!"
"I've been saying this for months."
Someone even patted her gently on the shoulder while passing by. Clara could only smile awkwardly. "Thank you..."
She had absolutely no idea what she was being congratulated for. As the crowd slowly returned to work, Ingrid hurried over, practically glowing with excitement.
"I told you!" She wrapped Clara in a quick hug. "I can't believe it finally happened!"
Clara laughed nervously. "It's only temporary."
"Oh, please." Ingrid rolled her eyes dramatically. ''Temporary' is just HR's favorite word."
She lowered her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Everyone knows you'll get the position."
"I don't even know what the position does."
"What?"
"I mean..."
Clara cleared her throat. "...exactly."
Ingrid laughed. "See? You're already acting like management."
Once Ingrid returned to her desk, Clara slowly lowered herself into her chair. Her heartbeat still hadn't settled.
The HR had reffered to her earlier as Clara Rodriguez. The name echoed inside her mind.
Rodriguez.
Not...
De Vera.
Her hands moved almost instinctively toward her handbag. Quietly, making sure no one noticed, she opened it. Inside was a leather wallet. She slid out an employee identification card. Her fingers froze.
CLARA RODRIGUEZ
Editorial Assistant
Nordlys Publishing Group
She stared at the name.
Rodriguez.
Not De Vera.
Not married.
Not...
Marco's wife.
The color slowly drained from her face. If Marco had never been part of her life...
Then...
What about Amara?
Her throat tightened.
If there had never been a marriage...
Then...
Had Amara...
Never existed?
The thought struck harder than she expected.
"Clara?" She looked up. One of her coworkers stood beside her holding several folders. "We're heading to Conference Room B."
Clara blinked. "Oh..."
The woman smiled. "The department meeting."
"Right."
She quickly stood, clutching the folders almost automatically. Around her, employees streamed toward a wide corridor lined with framed book covers and literary awards.
The deeper they walked into the building, the more luxurious everything became.
Glass walls. Oak paneling. Designer lighting. Quiet conversations echoed through the spacious hallways. This place was beautiful. Almost intimidatingly so.
Exactly the sort of publishing house she had dreamed about working in. As they rounded another corner, several employees ahead suddenly slowed. People had begun whispering.
"He's here."
"So that's the new CEO?"
"I heard he came straight from legal."
"They say the board practically begged him to take over."
"Poor guy."
"They also say he's one of the owners."
Clara frowned. The new CEO? Her coworkers stopped walking. "We'll have to wait." Someone sighed. "Looks like executive management is coming through first."
Clara nodded absentmindedly. While everyone else's attention remained fixed toward the conference corridor...
Something else caught hers.
A small figure. A little blond boy came racing across the open lobby with a paper airplane soaring through the air. His laughter echoed softly beneath the high ceiling. He couldn't have been older than five or six.
His golden-blond hair bounced with every step, and his bright blue eyes sparkled with pure concentration as he chased his paper airplane across the polished floor.
Then...
He looked up. His eyes widened. Recognition lit up his entire face.
"You!"
The little boy pointed directly at her. "The angel!"
Clara blinked. "The... angel?"
The little boy nodded so enthusiastically that his curls bounced. "I remember you!"
He hurried toward her without the slightest hesitation. "You saved me!"
Understanding finally dawned. The little boy from the street. The child she had pulled away from the speeding car.
"Oh..." A warm smile spread across Clara's face as she crouched until they were eye level.
"It's you."
The little boy beamed. "I knew it was you!"
"What are you doing here?" Clara asked gently. "Does your mother work here?"
He shook his head proudly. "My daddy does."
"Oh?"
"I think."
That made Clara laugh. "You think?"
He nodded very seriously. "I'm still learning what Daddy actually does."
Clara laughed again, softer this time. Up close, he was even more adorable than she remembered. Round cheeks. Bright blue eyes. The kind of smile that could melt almost anyone's heart. Without warning, he leaned closer, studying her face with complete concentration.
"You really don't look like you're from here."
Clara smiled. "No?"
He shook his head. "You look different."
"I am different."
"Where are you from?"
"I'm from an Asian country called the Philippines."
His eyes grew impossibly wide. "The Philippines?"
She nodded.
"There are lots of islands there, right?"
"There are."
"And beaches?"
"So many beaches."
"But no snow?"
She laughed. "No snow. I saw snow for the first time after coming to Norway."
“Are there many women like you there too?”
Clara laughed again, charmed by how innocent the boy was. “I think so, yes.”
The boy looked amazed. His expression turned almost dreamy. “Then I’ll go there someday.”
“Oh? Why?”
He answered without hesitation.“Because I want to find someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
He nodded very seriously. “Someone kind.” His little face scrunched thoughtfully. “With long, black, wavy hair.”
He pointed toward her. “And a pretty smile.”
Clara couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “You’re already charming girls at your age?”
“I mean it.”
He looked completely sincere. “When I grow up...” He smiled. “I’m going to marry someone just like you.”
Clara stared at him for a second before smiling, touched. "That's very sweet."
"No." His little voice remained serious. "I really will."
"Mikkel."
A deep male voice interrupted gently. Both Clara and the little boy turned. Standing only a few steps away...
Was the last man Clara had expected to see again.
Tall. Impeccably dressed in a dark navy suit. Steel-gray eyes. Dark blond hair neatly combed this morning.
Completely sober. Completely awake. His expression had frozen somewhere between disbelief... And recognition.
"Daddy!"
The little boy ran toward him without hesitation. He wrapped both arms around the man's leg before pointing excitedly back toward Clara.
"Daddy!" His smile was impossibly bright. "She's the angel I've been telling you about!"
The little finger pointed directly at Clara. "She's the one who saved me!"
Silence fell.
Clara felt the blood drain from her face. Zoren stared at her. She stared back. Neither of them seemed capable of speaking.
Until, almost at the same time... "What?"
The word left both of them together.
And for one suspended heartbeat...
The entire world seemed to stop.