Meeting the Analysis Master
After shutting down the trolls, Avery Hayes closed X and tuned out the noise.
She walked off the campus of the University of Finance and Economics, calm and composed.
Sunlight filtered through the sycamore trees, framing her as she walked away, her figure growing smaller until she disappeared down the path.
Downstairs from the lecture hall, a few students who had just been defending her online stared, mouths agape, as she left.
"Oh my god, that's her," a girl with a round, youthful face whispered, her eyes wide. "The genius who got a two eighty-two."
"The scores are out. Who else could it be? I can't believe I just saw a real-life genius."
Another girl snapped out of her trance, whipped out her phone, and frantically snapped pictures of Avery's back. "Gotta save this. For good luck."
"It's one thing to be that good-looking," the boy with them said, shaking his head with a sigh. "But she's also brilliant? Some people just have it all."
A two hundred eighty-two.
What did that even mean?
The multiple-choice section of the Bar Exam was out of three hundred points.
One eighty was a pass, two-twenty to two-forty was excellent, and anything over two-fifty was practically unheard of.
A score like two eighty-two was simply staggering.
It was the kind of score that made every other law student in the country stop and stare in awe.
As far as anyone could remember, only two people had broken two seventy-five in recent years. One got a two seventy-seven, the other a two seventy-six. Both were from NYU Law.
Come to think of it, the one who'd scored two seventy-six was also named Hayes.
The same name as this Avery Hayes, the doctor who'd just switched careers.
But that Avery Hayes, the lawyer, had been murdered by a defendant outside a courthouse not long ago.
You had to wonder if everyone with the last name Hayes was just built different.
Avery's score of two eighty-two went viral among everyone following the Bar results, and her name immediately reminded people of the other Avery Hayes.
Same name, different person, but it gave everyone a strange, almost fated sense of deja vu.
It felt like a continuation, like one life picking up where another had left off.
Their stories were eerily similar, too. Both had suffered career-ending accidents, one right after the other.
It was just that Dr. Avery Hayes had been lucky enough to survive.
The revelation left people with a heavy, unsettling feeling.
That was why when Avery posted her score and a mob of trolls descended, twisting her achievement into some kind of arrogant flex, "Who does she think she is, posting a two eighty-two?" they sneered, her new supporters jumped to her defense.
They didn't just explain the monumental significance of her score; they started the hashtag #LawyersAtRisk.
Suddenly, the life story of the other Avery Hayes was everywhere. She was an orphan who had clawed her way to the top, gotten into NYU Law, and was just starting to make a name for herself when she was killed in the line of duty. They even posted her old Bar Exam score.
Back then, she had also been the top scorer of her year.
As the online conversation snowballed, more people started looking for updates on the lawyer's murder case. But as they dug, they realized something chilling: there was no follow-up. It was as if someone had just hit pause on the investigation. There was no progress at all.
Inside the Stellar Media Group building, Dexter Reed was scrolling through his phone.
Seeing the tide of public opinion turn so completely, he leaned back in his executive chair with a satisfied smirk.
"Avery is so much less trouble than Holden Crane. Look at this. We didn't even have to hire a troll farm. PR just gave it a little nudge, and her own fans shut the haters down."
"She got lucky, having the same name as that murdered lawyer," his colleague pointed out. "All those people following that courthouse case are speaking up for her now."
Dexter sighed. He'd followed that story, too, when it first broke. To be honest, even as a total stranger, he felt the strange connection between the two Avery Hayeses. It was impossible not to.
"It's not luck," Diana Marks said, shaking her head.
"It's that she's brilliant." If Avery were truly lucky, Diana thought, she'd be holding a scalpel over an operating table right now, not stepping into the chaotic mess of the entertainment industry.
Being a celebrity looked glamorous, but just beyond the spotlight, the world was filled with hidden traps and dangerous currents.
One wrong move, and you could end up like Holden Crane and Sienna Blackwood.
Even the people behind the scenes weren't safe.
Hadn't she and Dexter themselves almost gotten killed just last year?
Snapping out of her thoughts, Diana turned to a young man standing nearby. "Wyatt, is your cold better? Are you good to go with Avery to the set of *Bones of the Mountains and Rivers*?"
Avery had Shane Croft with her, but his throat was still injured, making it hard for him to talk to people. He was great as a driver and bodyguard, but for any real communication, they needed Wyatt.
Wyatt stood up straight. "Much better. I'm good to go. I'll head to the film set with her."
"Alright. Let's go pick her up from the university first," Diana said, grabbing her keys. She ducked into the agency's dorm to pack a bag with some of Avery's things, then left with Wyatt.
Dexter's gaze returned to his computer screen.
He watched Avery's follower count skyrocket, a grin spreading across his face.
Now *that* was an overnight sensation. To burst onto the scene with this much force, without a single project to her name, that was the kind of thing you saw once a decade, if you were lucky.
Stellar Media's big break was finally here.
Speaking of luck, Dexter's mood soured slightly. Avery's trending topic had completely buried the news about Sienna Blackwood's drug scandal, giving Daybreak Media a chance to breathe. Otherwise, he would've kept fanning the flames for a few more days, driving their stock further into the ground.
But it was fine. A media company's stock lives and dies by its artists. Once an artist's reputation implodes and they can't generate value, the stock will crater eventually. No need to rush. Julian was a grown man now. After all these years, it was finally time to settle some old scores.
Dexter pushed himself up from his chair, slid his phone into his leather jacket, and headed for the door.
Stellar Media might have won today's PR battle, but he wasn't about to let the mastermind who'd tried to smear Avery get away with it.
He needed to have someone dig into it and find out which bastard was pulling the strings.
At a campus coffee shop near the university, sunlight streamed through the windows, making patterns on the floor. Avery Hayes pushed the door open and walked in with Shane Croft. Her eyes scanned the room, quickly landing on a table in the corner by the window.
A man in his mid-twenties sat there, listlessly poking a slice of cake with his fork. He wore a stylish, charcoal-gray casual outfit that gave him a relaxed vibe, his slightly messy chestnut hair falling over his eyes.
A flicker of surprise crossed Avery's face as she walked straight over. "Hello, I'm Avery Hayes. Sorry to keep you waiting."
The man looked up, his eyes sweeping over her face. He just gave a lazy "Mm," in response. No name, no small talk. He got right to it. "The inspection reports are all here. I tested the entire line of Sterling food products. Thirty-two types in total. Twenty-nine of them failed."
He reached down, picked up a silver metal box from the floor, and set it on the table. "The samples we used for testing are inside, too."
"Thank you," Avery said with a nod, then glanced at Shane.
Shane understood and took the box.
The man's eyes followed Shane for a second before returning to Avery. She sat down across from him, her gaze drawn to his unruly chestnut hair. She stared for a few seconds before realizing she was being rude and pulling herself together. "When can you get the Sterling family's tax information?"
"That's a risky job," he said, leaning back in his chair.
His gaze brushed across her cheek for a fleeting moment before he looked away, his expression unreadable.
"My people only got hired by their company a few days ago. There's no way to get it that fast. Just wait. I'll let you know as soon as I have it."
He picked up his fork, cut a piece of cake, and began to chew, slow and deliberate.
Avery's gaze fixed on the half-eaten tiramisu, and the surprise in her eyes deepened.
The last time they'd met, he was dressed neatly in a suit.
Now, it was like he was a completely different person.
He'd dyed his hair, his style was more casual and free-spirited, and even his tastes had changed.
She distinctly remembered that he always avoided sweets.
Every time he'd ordered dessert before, he'd just had her pack it up to go.