Gary Brandt delivers his most heartwarming and emotionally complex story yet in this extraordinary exploration of how unexpected connections can transform strangers into family from The Dimension Of Mind Dot Com, where a chance encounter at a coffee shop between lonely widower Gary Thompson, a retired rocket scientist, and mysterious operative Lili, who bears an uncanny resemblance to his beloved adopted daughter Ling, sparks an unlikely partne ...
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The late afternoon sun filtered through the smudged windows of Brew & Bean, a cozy coffee shop nestled in the heart of the cityâs bustling downtown. The air hummed with the clatter of cups, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the low murmur of conversations. At a small table near the window, Gary Thompson, a retired rocket scientist of seventy, sat nursing a black coffee, his gaze drifting aimlessly over the crowd. His silver hair was neatly combed, his tweed jacket slightly worn at the elbows, a testament to years of quiet routine. The lines on his face told stories of a life well-lived, but his eyes held a quiet ache. His daughter, Ling, was thousands of miles away, studying in Europe, and the emptiness of his home weighed heavily on him. To fill the void, Gary had taken to people-watching at the coffee shop, scribbling fragments of fantastical stories about aliens, angels, and fairies in a worn notebook.
The shop was unusually crowded today, every table occupied except for the empty chair across from Gary. He barely noticed the woman approaching until her voice, polite but firm, broke through his reverie.
âExcuse me, sir, is this seat taken?â
Gary looked up to see a woman in her early forties, poised and striking, standing before him. She wore a light blue business suit, tailored but slightly out of place amid the casual jeans and sweaters of the coffee shop crowd. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her almond-shaped eyes held a quiet intensity. She carried a steaming latte in one hand and a leather satchel slung over her shoulder.
For a moment, Gary froze. The woman bore an uncanny resemblance to Lingâsame age, same graceful posture, same air of quiet strength. His heart gave a small, painful lurch. âNo, no, please, sit,â he said, gesturing to the chair with a warm smile. âItâs all yours.â
âThank you,â she said, settling into the seat with a practiced ease. She placed her latte on the table and extended a hand. âIâm LiLi.â
âGary,â he replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm, her fingers cool. âNice to meet you, LiLi.â
They fell into the kind of small talk strangers use to fill awkward silencesâcomments about the weather, the quality of the coffee, the chaos of the city. Gary couldnât help but notice the elegance in her movements, the way she scanned the room subtly, as if cataloging every detail. Her suit, though professional, seemed almost like a costume, not quite matching the relaxed setting. Curiosity got the better of him.
âForgive me for asking,â Gary said, leaning forward slightly, âbut are you a cop? That suitâitâs got that detective vibe.â
LiLiâs lips quirked into a faint smile, but her eyes sharpened, assessing him. âYouâre observant,â she said. âYes, Iâm a detective. On assignment with the Metropolitan Police Department.â
Gary nodded, intrigued. âThatâs impressive. Where are you from, if you donât mind me asking?â
She hesitated, her fingers tightening briefly around her cup. âI was born in Hong Kong,â she said finally, her tone measured. âCame to the U.S. to study law enforcement.â She left it at that, and Gary sensed a wall go up, a subtle shift in her demeanor that warned against pressing further.
In truth, LiLi was more than a detective. She was a covert operative, part of a multi-agency task force with ties to federal governments and international agencies. Her fluency in multiple Chinese dialects and her stellar record had made her a prized recruit, but her work required discretion. The less Garyâor anyoneâknew, the better.
To steer the conversation away from herself, LiLi asked, âAnd you, Gary? What brings you here, besides the coffee?â
Gary chuckled, running a hand through his hair. âOh, Iâm retired now. Used to be a rocket scientist, believe it or not. These days, I spend my time here, watching the world go by, reading, writing a bit. Mostly silly stuffâstories about aliens, angels, that sort of thing.â His voice softened. âKeeps me busy. My daughterâs studying in Europe, and the house feels too quiet without her.â
LiLiâs expression softened. âYou must miss her.â
âEvery day,â Gary admitted, his gaze drifting to the window. âSheâs about your age, actually. You remind me of her a little.â
LiLi tilted her head, curious but cautious. âThatâs sweet. Whatâs her name?â
âLing,â Gary said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. âSheâs a handful, but the best thing in my life.â
They continued chatting, the conversation flowing more easily now. LiLi shared that sheâd graduated at the top of her class in law enforcement, drawing interest from every major agency. When Gary asked why sheâd chosen such a demanding career, her smile faded slightly.
âItâs a long story,â she said, her voice quieter now. âLetâs just say I got married too young, and it⌠didnât end well. I had to start over, and I never wanted to feel that powerless again.â
Gary nodded, sensing the weight behind her words. He didnât push further.
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden commotion. Two young men near the counter began arguing loudly, their voices escalating into shouts. The argument turned physical, and they stumbled toward Garyâs table, knocking his glasses to the floor with a clatter. Before Gary could react, LiLi was on her feet, her movements swift and precise. With a few deft martial arts maneuvers, she had both men pinned to the ground, their faces pressed against the worn linoleum, stunned and breathless.
The coffee shop fell silent, all eyes on LiLi. She scanned the room, her gaze locking briefly on a man in the corner who was watching her too closely, his expression unreadable. âLetâs go,â she said to Gary, her voice low and urgent. âItâs not safe here anymore. I just revealed Iâm a cop, and that guy over thereâheâs trouble.â
Gary grabbed his glasses and followed her out, his heart racing. Outside, the cool evening air hit them, and LiLiâs composure cracked slightly. She ran a hand over her face, frustrated. âI blew my cover,â she muttered. âIâll have to switch hotels now. I canât risk being followed.â
Gary hesitated, then spoke. âLook, I live just around the corner. Iâve got an empty bedroom since Ling moved out. Youâre welcome to stay until you figure things out.â
LiLiâs eyes narrowed, weighing the offer. âThatâs kind, but it could be dangerous. If Iâm followed, Iâd be bringing trouble to your doorstep.â
Gary gave a wry smile. âMy neighborhoodâs not exactly Mayberry. Half the houses belong to gangsters or worse. Anyone looking for trouble there might not walk away.â
LiLi studied him for a moment, then nodded. âAlright. Thank you, Gary.â
They climbed into her sleek black sedan, and she drove the short distance to his modest two-story home in a gritty part of town. The street was lined with weathered houses, some with barred windows, others with overgrown yards. Garyâs house stood out slightly, its porch tidy, a faint glow emanating from the windows.
Inside, the house was warm and lived-in, filled with bookshelves and framed photos of a young woman with a mischievous smileâLing. LiLi carried her small duffel bag upstairs to the spare bedroom, which still held traces of a teenage girlâs life: fairy lights strung along the wall, a shelf of fantasy novels, a faded poster of a rock band.
After settling in, LiLi emerged in a pair of shortie pajamas, her hair loose and flowing. Gary glanced up and froze, his eyes widening slightly. LiLi raised an eyebrow, with an accusing finger. âPut your eyes back in your head, mister. Iâm not here for your pleasure.â
Gary laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. âOh, no, no, itâs not like that. You just⌠you look so much like Ling. My instinctâs to protect you, notâwell, molest you.â
LiLiâs expression softened, and she sat across from him. âIs Ling Chinese? Or your wife, maybe?â
âNo, itâs not like that,â Gary said, his voice tinged with sadness. He leaned back, his gaze distant. âLingâs not my biological daughter. This neighborhoodâs roughâcrime, drugs, kids running wild. When Ling was twelve, she was this beautiful precious child, a bright kid, but her parents⌠they werenât around much. She started coming over here, and Iâd help her with homework, make sure she ate. One day, her mother showed up, dumped all of Lingâs things on my porch, and said, âYou can have the little bitch.â Walked away and never came back.â
LiLiâs breath caught, her fingers tightening around her cup.
âI took her in,â Gary continued. âGot her through school, tried to keep her safe. It wasnât easyâshe was a firecracker, especially in her teens. Her real nameâs not Ling; her dad called her that, short for Changeling. You know the myth? Fairies steal your kid, leave a troublesome one in its place. She was never trouble, though. Just⌠spirited.â
LiLi smiled faintly, touched by the story. âYouâre a good man, Gary.â
They talked late into the night, their conversation weaving through stories of their lives, dreams and fears. Despite their differencesâLiLiâs guarded intensity, Garyâs open-hearted nostalgiaâthey found an unexpected ease with each other, a connection that felt deeper than either could fully understand. As the time passed and the house grew quiet, they realized they had become, in that brief moment, unlikely friends.
The morning sun spilled through the kitchen window of Garyâs modest home, casting a warm glow over the cluttered countertops. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, pulling Gary from his restless sleep. He shuffled downstairs, pausing at the sight of LiLi expertly working his espresso machine. Her movements were precise, almost rhythmic, as she tamped down the grounds and pulled a shot with the ease of a seasoned barista. She was dressed casually in grey shortie pajamas, a stark contrast to the stiff business suit of the previous day, her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail.
LiLi glanced over her shoulder, catching Garyâs bemused expression. âYouâve got more coffee gear here than Brew & Bean,â she said, her tone teasing but warm. âThis setup is serious business.â
Gary grinned, running a hand through his silver hair. âIâm a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to coffee. Turning water into a decent cup is trickier than turning water into wine. Takes skill and the right tools.â He nodded toward the espresso machine. âYou look like you know your way around that thing. College job?â
LiLiâs lips curved into a faint smile as she slid a steaming cup of espresso across the counter. âSomething like that.â She didnât elaborate, and Gary didnât press. Instead, he accepted the cup gratefully, savoring the first sip.
âThank you for last night,â LiLi said, her voice softer now. âLetting me stay hereâit means a lot. But Iâve got to head out. Got a job at the docks. The Navy recovered a North Korean missile, and they want me to take a look, as if Iâd know anything about missiles.â She rolled her eyes, but there was a tension in her posture that betrayed her calm demeanor. âIâll find a new hotel tonight, but hereâs my number.â She handed him a slip of paper. âYouâre good people, Gary. We should meet up again sometime.â
Garyâs face fell, his fingers tightening around the cup. âNo, forget the hotel,â he said earnestly. âStay here while youâre in town. Itâs better for your cover, especially after yesterday. And, wellâŚâ He hesitated, then added with a spark of mischief, âI might be able to help with that missile.â
LiLiâs eyes widened, her professional mask slipping. âWhat do you know about missiles?â
âI told you I was a rocket scientist,â Gary said, leaning back with a grin. âI could sketch out schematics for half a dozen missile designs right nowâfirmware, guidance laws, the works. Fifty years in the field leaves you with a few tricks.â
LiLi studied him, clearly impressed but skeptical. âYouâd need clearance.â
Gary chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. âMy clearance is still active. Well above top secret. So, Iâm here if you need me.â
LiLi considered this, her mind racing. A retired rocket scientist with active clearance and a knack for staying calm under pressure? This was no ordinary coffee shop acquaintance. âAlright,â she said finally. âLetâs go to the docks.â
The docks were a maze of cranes and shipping containers, the air heavy with the scent of salt and diesel. A Navy houseboat was moored at the far end, its unassuming exterior belying the high-tech electronics lab within. Inside, the space buzzed with activityâNavy technicians in crisp uniforms disassembled a sleek, cylindrical missile, its ordinance safely removed. The weapon lay on a steel table, its components spread out like a dissected beast.
Garyâs eyes lit up as he surveyed the scene. He picked up a circuit board, turning it over in his hands with a knowing smile. âWell, Iâll be damned,â he said, chuckling. âMost of these boards are American-made. Some contractorâs been selling them out the back door to spies. Happens more than youâd think.â He pointed to a specific board, its edges slightly modified but unmistakable. âThis one? I designed it. Theyâve tweaked it a bit, but itâs mine.â
LiLi raised an eyebrow, her respect for Gary growing. Together, they spent the day working alongside the Navy team, deciphering the missileâs inner workings. Garyâs expertise was undeniableâhe identified components, explained their functions, and even pointed out subtle modifications that hinted at foreign reverse-engineering. LiLi, meanwhile, brought her own skills to the table, her sharp mind piecing together the broader implications of the missileâs origins. Their collaboration was seamless, each filling in the gaps of the otherâs knowledge.
As evening settled over the city, they returned to Garyâs house, exhausted but exhilarated. Gary headed to the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to start dinner, when LiLi stopped him. âWait,â she said, rubbing her temples. âWeâre too tired to cook. Let me change out of these work clothes, and weâll go out for dinner. My treat.â
Gary couldnât resist the offer. He swapped his cardigan for his one good button-down shirt, a crisp blue one he saved for special occasions. When LiLi emerged from the guest room, Garyâs breath caught. She wore an elegant, one-shoulder dress that hugged her frame, the deep blue fabric catching the light. Her hair was loose, framing her face, and for a moment, she looked less like a hardened operative and more like someone who belonged at a gala. She was stunning.
The restaurant was a quiet, upscale spot with dim lighting and soft jazz playing in the background. Over plates of pasta and glasses of red wine, LiLi leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. âYou know, Gary, today was⌠good. We work well together. Your skills, my skillsâthey complement each other. Maybe we could collaborate from time to time. Itâd give you something to do besides sitting around, missing people who arenât here.â
Gary sipped his wine, considering her words. The ache of Lingâs absence was a constant companion, but today had been different. Working with LiLi had given him purpose, a spark he hadnât felt in years. âYeah,â he said finally, a slow smile spreading across his face. âThat would be good. Anytime you need me, just let me know. Iâm there.â
Their conversation was interrupted by the pointed stares of two elderly women at a nearby table, their whispers barely concealed. Gary caught their gaze and leaned forward, his tone firm but playful. âSheâs my daughter. Stop thinking what youâre thinking.â
LiLi burst out laughing, her eyes sparkling. âSo youâve adopted me already?â
Gary grinned, unfazed. âHey, itâs a good cover, little miss secret agent. I know youâre more than just a police detective.â
LiLiâs smile didnât waver, but she didnât deny it. Instead, she reached across the table, her hand brushing his. âLast night, when you told me about Lingâhow her parents just dumped her on you, called her that awful nameâit hit me hard.â Her voice softened, and she looked down at her plate. âMy parents didnât want me either. They made that clear, over and over. They didnât give me away, but Iâm sure they wouldâve if they could. Thatâs why I got married at fifteen. Biggest mistake of my life, but it got me out of that house.â
Gary listened, his heart tightening. He reached out, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. âLiLi, youâve shared something deeply personal, and Iâm honored you trust me with it. I canât go back and be there for you like I was for Lingâtimeâs stolen that chanceâbut Iâm here now. For whatever you need. If those blue-haired ladies think Iâm your sugar daddy, let âem. No one needs to know the bond weâre building.â He paused, his voice thick with emotion. âEnough of this heavy stuff. How about we head back, watch a movie, sip some after-dinner coffee with cream, and call it a night? Sweet dreams, baby girl. Iâll make breakfast tomorrow.â
LiLi smiled, her eyes glistening. âDeal.â
The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting slatted shadows across the kitchen. Lili shuffled in, her hair a tangled mess, her eyes heavy with the weight of restless sleep. She made a beeline for the espresso machine, her movements sluggish but purposeful, like an addict drawn to their next fix. âI need coffee,â she muttered, her voice rough, almost hoarse. She fumbled with the machine, her fingers clumsy on the buttons. âAnd heyâdonât ever call me âbaby girlâ again. It gave me bad dreams.â
Gary, leaning against the counter with a mug of tea, raised an eyebrow, his expression caught between surprise and amusement. âReally? I thought it was a nice little term of endearment. Iâm sorry.â
Lili didnât look at him, her focus fixed on the gurgling machine as it sputtered to life. âItâs just⌠I donât know. Something isnât right here. Thisââ she gestured vaguely at the kitchen, the apartment, the space between them, ââthis isnât right.â
âHow do you mean?â Garyâs tone was gentle, probing without pushing, his eyes searching her face for clues.
The espresso machine hissed, and Lili cursed under her breath as she burned her finger on the steam wand. She shook her hand out, frustration bubbling over. âTwo days ago, I was a cop. A secret agent. Cool, professional, independentâ*invulnerable*. And today? Iâm someoneâs âbaby girl.â Ugh.â She grimaced, the word tasting sour. âThatâs not me. What am I doing here? Iâve got daddy issues, sure, and youâyou triggered something in me. I feel⌠comfortable here. Like Iâve lived here for years. Like I *belong* here. And I donât even know you, Gary. This isnât right. Itâs not healthy. Itâs magical thinking, like weâre playing house or something. Our true colors are going to show, and this is going to blow up in my face. Iâm going to get hurt. Again.â Her voice cracked on the last word, and she turned away, gripping the counter as if to steady herself. âIâm a cop. Iâm not supposed to be afraid. Damn it, Iâm *afraid* of this. Iâm vulnerable here.â
Gary set his mug down, his movements slow and deliberate, giving her space to let the words spill out. He didnât interrupt, didnât try to fix it, just listened as the weight of her confession hung in the air. When she finally fell silent, he let out a soft, âWow.â He paused, choosing his words carefully. âThat was quite a speech. I hear you, Lili. That hard shell youâve built around yourselfâit cracked open, and a lot of stuff came pouring out. Youâre right, youâre vulnerable. We all are. Crawling back into that shell wonât fix it, though. If this feels too scary, too much, you can take your things and walk out that door. Youâre free to go. Nothingâs holding you here. Butââ he hesitated, his voice softening, ââalways remember that feeling you mentioned, that sense of belonging, of home. Know that thereâs someone here who cares about you, who sees you, and who⌠loves you.â
Liliâs head snapped up, her eyes narrowing into a glare. âThe *L* word? Already? After two days, youâre dropping the *L* word?â
Gary chuckled, unfazed by her intensity. âHey, life comes at you fast. I see you, Liliâwho you really are. Itâs impossible to know you and not love you. So deal with it. You are loved, and you will always be loved.â
Her glare didnât waver, but something flickered in her eyesâuncertainty, maybe, or a spark of something she wasnât ready to name. Without a word, she grabbed a paper cup from the counter, poured her espresso into it with a shaky hand, and stormed off to her bedroom. The door slammed behind her, the sound echoing through the apartment.
Inside, Lili moved with frantic energy, yanking clothes from drawers and shoving them into her backpack. Her mind raced, a jumble of fear and defiance. *This is crazy. I canât do this. Iâm not this person.* She zipped the bag shut, slung it over her shoulder, and marched toward the front door. But as her hand closed around the doorknob, she froze, her gaze dropping to the floor. The weight of her decision pressed against her chest, heavy and unyielding.
Gary approached quietly, his presence steady but not intrusive. He reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder lightly, a gesture meant to ground rather than restrain. âYeah, weâre messed up,â he said, his voice low and honest. âAny competent therapist would have a field day with us. Your daddy issues, my need to fill the void left by my daughterâitâs a landmine waiting to blow. Lifeâs messy, sweetheart. Run if you need to. But I think this could be a chance to face those issues, to grow through them, to come out the other side⌠free. And for what itâs worth, Iâm not trying to replace my daughter with you. Youâre not her. Youâre youâa unique person. The love I feel growing for you? Thatâs yours, Lili. Not hers.â He paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. âAlso, youâre still in your pajamas. Might want to change before you storm out into the world.â
Liliâs shoulders stiffened, and for a moment, it seemed like she might bolt anyway. But then she let out a sharp, exasperated breath, turned on her heel, and marched back to her bedroom. She tossed the backpack onto the bed, the thud echoing her frustration. âGet dressed!â she yelled, her voice carrying through the apartment. âWe have a job. Grab your passportâweâre going to London. Thereâs a cyber-terrorist wreaking havoc, and we need to track him down. Your skills will come in handy. And Iâm not your *effing* baby girl.â
Gary stood in the doorway, watching her with a mix of amusement and respect. He didnât say anything, just nodded and headed to his room to pack. The air between them was charged, fragile, but there was something else tooâa thread of understanding, a tentative bridge forming over the chasm of their respective wounds. London awaited, and with it, a chance to face not just a global threat but the messy, human truths they carried within.
The transatlantic flight to London was a grueling eight hours, the cabin air dry and chilled. Gary, his joints stiff from years of wear and tear, had to request two blankets from the flight attendant, only for Lili to snag one without a word, wrapping it around herself like a cocoon. She was in full professional mode nowâcool, detached, all business, her early morning emotional outburst in the apartment buried deep. Gary, retired and weathered, had assumed his days of globe-trotting were long behind him. It had taken him an hour of rummaging through old drawers to unearth his passport, its pages stamped with memories of covert military projects that had once taken him to every corner of the world. This mission, though, felt differentâa strange blend of nostalgia and role-play, like stepping into a script he hadnât read yet.
Their first stop after landing at Heathrow was a sleek clothing boutique in Mayfair, where the mission demanded a bit of theatrical flair. Gary transformed into William States, a fictitious arms dealer and missile expert, his expensive tailored suit lending him an air of calculated menace. The alias was a well-worn profile maintained by the intelligence community for operations like this. Lili, playing his assistant-slash-girlfriend-slash-escort, adopted the name Mei Lin, her wardrobe a chameleonâs mix of sharp business attire and sultry evening wear, with a few sexy outfits, the wardrobe shifting as the situation demanded. They also picked up casual outfits for downtimeâjeans, soft sweaters, and sneakers for blending into Londonâs bustling streets. The assignment was set to keep them in the city for several days, and Lili, ever savvy with her expense account, made sure to slip a few exotic fashion pieces into her purchases, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of indulgence.
Their Uber driver, a chatty Cockney with a penchant for oversharing, dropped them off at a discreet Airbnb in Notting Hill, its ivy-covered facade hiding a luxurious interior. They were greeted in the foyer by Johnathan Blake, a buyer for a shadowy cartel tied to a rogue military faction. Liliâs intel had flagged Blake for his relentless hacking into military systems, chasing classified weapons tech. He was all charm and sharp edges, his smile a little too polished.
âAh, welcome, William,â Blake said, extending a hand. âOr should I call you Bill?â âBillâs fine,â Gary replied, his voice steady, slipping effortlessly into character. âNice to meet you, Johnathan. Or should I call you John?â âJohnâs fine,â Blake said with a grin. His gaze slid to Lili, appraising her with a smirk. âOh, I see youâve brought your China Doll. Iâve had a few of those myselfâcareful, they get mouthy after a while.â
Liliâs eyes flashed, but her smile was razor-sharp. âGlad to meet you too, John. Iâm Mei Lin, and Iâm nobodyâs China Doll.â Blake laughed, undeterred, and shot Gary a knowing look. âSee what I mean?â
Gary and Blake retreated to a SCIFâa sterile, soundproof room designed to thwart eavesdroppingâleaving Lili to mingle with the staff. She gravitated to the kitchen, where she raided the fridge with the casual entitlement of someone who knew how to work a room. As she nibbled on gourmet leftovers, she listened intently to the staffâs chatter, her sharp ears catching fragments of gossip about the operation unfolding in the house. She jotted mental notes, her cop instincts cataloging every detail.
Inside the SCIF, Gary and Blake sat across a polished table strewn with images and technical documents. âOkay, John,â Gary began, his tone all business. âHow can I help you?â
Blake slid a folder toward him, his expression unreadable. âThis is what weâre looking for, Bill. Is it achievable? Iâve heard you can get just about anything.â
Gary scanned the documents, his brow furrowing as he took in the specs. âReally? This is what you want?â He met Blakeâs gaze, his voice low. âYour clientâhow deep are their pockets?â
Blake leaned back, a faint smile playing on his lips. âMy clientâs pockets are as deep as they need to be.â
Gary tapped the papers, his tone measured. âWhat youâve got here is an ICBMâtop of the line. Yes, itâs achievable, but only in pieces. Youâre not getting a whole one. Your client will need a team of technicians to assemble it. The component contractors are⌠leaky, shall we say. A secret backdoor for the right price.
This unitâs a MIRVâmultiple independently targetable reentry vehicle. A dozen warheads, each with its own target. See this?â He pointed to an image of the missileâs nose. âGlass dome for video targeting, so it can adjust mid-flight once it sees the target area. Small antennas here pick up the radiation profile, identifying defense systems and jammers. Each warhead can track mobile defenses, even if they fire and relocate. Behind the warheads, another ring of antennas keeps the missile linked to ground, AWACS, and satellite guidance systems, each with its own frequency-hopping protocol.
If a jammer blinds it, hyper-accurate laser gyroscopes take over. And this black foam coating?â He tapped the image again. âItâs for reentry and absorbs laser-based defenses. This thing moves at hypersonic speeds. Blink, and itâs gone. With conventional ordnance, those warheads will leave nothing but rubble. You sure your client wants this?â
Blakeâs smile widened, his eyes glinting with ambition. âYes, thatâs exactly what we want. How much?â
Garyâs face hardened. âYouâre not going to like my estimate. Acquiring one or two is a waste of timeâyour client likely doesnât have the infrastructure to maintain them. Youâre looking at a multi-year program to acquire and sustain these missiles. Ballpark? Fifty billion a year, for at least a decade. Let me know what your client decides. You know how to find me.â
Blake escorted them to a sleek black sedan waiting outside, its driver silent and professional. Gary and Lili slipped away, not to the hotel Blake assumed, but to a different oneâa boutique hideaway in Soho where they could blend into the cityâs rhythm. That evening, they attended a concert by a young artist whose voice, hauntingly reminiscent of Karen Carpenter, stirred something deep in Gary. Karen had been one of his first celebrity crushes, and the music wrapped him in a warm nostalgia as Lili sat beside him, her guard lowered just enough to enjoy the moment.
The next morning, Gary woke to the aroma of fresh pastries and coffee. Lili, already up, was demolishing a room-service breakfast tray, sampling everything from croissants to smoked salmon with gleeful abandon. Gary stumbled out of bed, eyeing the dwindling spread. âSave some for me,â he grumbled, reaching for a muffin. âOrder your own,â Lili shot back, her mouth half-full, a playful glint in her eye.
As they browsed their phones, planning a day of sightseeing, a sharp knock at the door shattered the calm. Liliâs hand flew to her service revolver, and she positioned herself behind a wall, her body tense but hidden. A voice called out, bright and insistent. âGrandpa, open up! I know youâre in there!â
Garyâs jaw dropped as he opened the door. A young woman with sharp features and a cascade of dark hair burst in, wrapping him in a fierce hug. âLing Ling?â he said, stunned. âHow did youâhow did you know I was here? How did you find this room?â
Ling Ling grinned, stepping back. âDonât you remember, Grandpa? You got me into electronics when I was a kid. Iâm a signals expert now. Me and my friends noticed we were being surveilled, so we backtracked the signal, found the agent in charge, and⌠persuaded him to talk. What the hell are you doing in London, Mr. Retired Guy?â
Lili emerged from her hiding spot, her revolver lowered but her expression wary. Ling Lingâs eyes widened, her mouth falling open. âGrandpa, oh my God. Youâre here with a woman? Sheâs barely Momâs age! Whatâs going on?â
Gary sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. âLet me explain. This is Lili. She works for the government and needed someone with my skills, so she hired me as a consultant. Weâre here on a job. Thatâs all.â Ling Lingâs eyes narrowed, her gaze flicking between them. âConsultant? Youâre sharing a hotel room. Iâm telling Mom. And she looks just like Mom, you knowâyour daughter.â
âItâs not what you think,â Lili interjected, her tone firm but not unkind. âOh yeah?â Ling Ling crossed her arms, smirking. âIâm a woman too, sweetheart. I see how you two look at each other.â
âOkay, enough,â Gary said, raising his hands. âLetâs not do this. Ling Ling, Liliâletâs be friends. Donât make me play referee.â
Lili tilted her head, studying the younger woman. âLing Ling? Is that really your name?â âItâs my nickname,â Ling Ling said, rolling her eyes. âMy real nameâs Armani, but Momâs nickname is Ling, and she calls me her âlittle mini,â so⌠Ling Ling. I know, itâs dumb.â
Liliâs gaze shifted to Gary, her voice tinged with accusation. âA granddaughter? You never mentioned a granddaughter.â Gary shrugged, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. âDidnât come up.â Ling Ling snorted. âI think he's embarrassed of me, if thatâs what youâre thinking. When Mom was sixteen, she was sneaking boys in through her bedroom window to dodge the front-door camera. By seventeen, I was born.â
âThatâs nonsense,â Gary said, his voice softening. âLing Ling, I was never embarrassed of you or your mom. I just wish Iâd been around more to protect herâsingle dad, working long hours. It wasnât easy.â
âYeah, well, you and Mom made sure I didnât get away with anything,â Ling Ling said, grinning. âI was the most supervised kid on the block.â
Lili clapped her hands, breaking the moment. âOkay, you two can catch up later. Iâm starving again. Letâs hit the restaurant downstairs.â
After dinner, back at the hotel Gary gestured to come sit and talk. âCan we sit and talk for a minute?â he asked, his voice gentle but firm, carrying the weight of something unspoken.
Ling Ling hesitated, her usual confidence faltering. She fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, her expression a mix of apprehension and curiosity, but she followed him and sat next to him. âWhatâs up, Grandpa?â she said, trying to keep her tone light.
Gary leaned forward, his hands clasped on the table, his eyes steady on hers. âIâve got a bone to pick with you, Ling Ling.â Her brow furrowed, and she let out a nervous laugh. âA bone? Grandpa, that sounds⌠weird. Kinda creepy. Donât say that again, okay?â
He winced, a faint flush creeping up his neck. âSorry, kiddo. Forgot you donât speak âold peopleâ lingo. Itâs just an expression. I mean I need to talk to you about something serious.â He paused, searching for the right words, his voice softening but laced with a quiet intensity. âYou say you worry about me being alone, that you donât want me to be lonely. And I appreciate that, I do. But you know how much it means to me to hear from youâto see you, to get a text, a call, even a quick selfie. Yet you go days, sometimes weeks, without responding. You donât answer my calls, donât reply to my texts. Your momâs the same way. If youâre so worried about me being lonely, why do I have to chase you just to know youâre okay?â
Ling Lingâs eyes glistened, her tough exterior cracking as she looked down, clasping her hands nervously. âIâm sorry, Grandpa,â she said, her voice small, trembling at the edges. âItâs just⌠lifeâs so crazy. School, my job, my friendsâitâs a lot. It feels like too much sometimes.â
Garyâs gaze hardened, though not without compassion. âToo much?â he echoed, his voice low but pointed. âToo much to snap a quick photo when youâre out with your friends? Too much to send a one-line text to let me know youâre still breathing?â He leaned back, exhaling heavily, his frustration tempered by the ache in his eyes. âIâm not asking for your whole day, Ling Ling. Just a moment to let me know youâre there.â
Tears spilled over now, and Ling Ling swiped at them, her voice breaking. âOkay, okay, Grandpa. I get it. Iâll do better, I promise. Iâll talk to Mom, too, make sure she checks in more.â
Garyâs expression softened, and he stood, opening his arms. âCome here, sweetheart. Iâm sorry I made you cry. Letâs hug it out.â She stepped into his embrace, and he held her tightly, his voice muffled against her hair. âI trust youâll try, kiddo. My heart aches to see your face every single day, but I know thatâs not realistic. So humor your old grandpa, yeah? Toss me a little attention now and thenâa text, a call, anything. It means more than you know.â
Ling Ling nodded against his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. âI will,â she whispered, and for a moment, the weight of their distance felt a little lighter, the promise of connection pulling them closer.
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| Over the next two days, the trio immersed themselves in Londonâs vibrancy. They savored street food in Borough Market, caught a West End show, and lounged by the hotel pool, laughter easing the tension of their mission. Lili and Ling Ling bonded over shared sarcasm and a love of spicy food, their initial wariness giving way to a cautious friendship. | ||
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| Ling Ling, seeing her grandfatherâs eyes light up in Liliâs company, felt a quiet reliefâhe wasnât wasting away in loneliness anymore. But beneath the laughter and tourist adventures, the weight of their mission lingered, a shadow waiting to pull them back into its orbit. | ||
The London operation had been utterly draining, but it yielded crucial results. The intelligence community was now one significant step closer to dismantling the rogue military cartel that had been their primary target. More importantly for Lili's immediate situation, her superiors had been thoroughly impressed with Gary's performance. He was no longer just a temporary contactâhe'd become her permanent asset, officially on the payroll. His security clearance had checked out flawlessly, which explained how Ling Ling had been able to track his whereabouts in London through official channels. The agency was even considering recruiting the young woman, viewing her exceptional intelligence as either a valuable asset or a potential threatâsomeone too clever to remain outside their sphere of influence.
The morning ritual with Gary's elaborate espresso machine had become one of Lili's unexpected comforts, though this very comfort troubled her. She found herself growing attached to the routine, to the house, to the life she was temporarily inhabiting. Even more unsettling was the maternal bond she'd developed with Ling Ling after just a few days togetherâa connection so immediate and intense it frightened someone who had maintained fierce independence since her divorce.
The sharp knock at the front door made Lili's pulse quicken. What now? she thought, glancing toward the yard where Gary was puttering around with the unhurried movements of a man enjoying retirement. After the third series of knocks went unanswered by him, Lili reluctantly approached the door. The woman standing on the doorstep was strikingly beautiful, with light auburn hair catching the Arizona sunlight. Lili's heart sank as her mind immediately jumped to conclusions. This is going to be drama. I should get a hotel room right now. I can't handle any more complicationsâI'm already in too deep, and clearly I'm just in the way here.
"ćçĺŚĺ (wÇ de mÄ ya)," Lili muttered under her breath before addressing the visitor. "You must be Ling." The woman's grin was both charming and slightly predatory. "Don't be throwing that Chinese stuff at me, honey. My parents might be Chinese, but I'm pure American."
Lili says "Yes, American. I can tell by the bleached hair."
"I'm Lingâthe original Ling. My daughter called me crying about some things Dad said to her, and she mentioned he was 'shacking up with a woman his daughter's age.' So naturally, I had to come check things out for myself. Is Dad here?"
Lili managed what she hoped passed for a smile. "Ling Ling got it all wrong. Your father and I are just colleagues."
"Uh-huh," Ling murmured, her tone dripping with skepticism. "Just colleagues who share hotel rooms, live in his house, and make breakfast in shorty pajamas. Listen, the only thing I need to know is whether you're going to be my new sister or my stepmother. I can work with sisterâthat could actually be fun. Stepmother?" She shrugged. "We'll probably end up fighting."
"Please, come in and have a seat," Lili offered, trying to regain her composure. "Do you drink coffee?"
Ling's laugh was genuinely warm. "I'm finishing my residency at a teaching hospital in Germany, so my blood plasma is probably fifty percent caffeine at this point. Then I'm transferring back here to Tucson to complete my training at UMC. Which means I'll be right here in town with my little beady eyes pointed at you the whole time."
The casual threat, delivered with such cheerful directness, made Lili look down as tears began to form. "I guess it's time for me to move to a hotel and get out of your family's way."
"Oh no, no, no," Ling said quickly, her demeanor shifting to something warmer. "Dad would be furious if I chased you awayâI was just testing the waters. I'm actually glad you're here. I think you're probably good for him. And you're my new sister now. We're going to have so much fun together. By the way, we're sharing my room, like real sisters. Okay?"
At that moment, Gary entered from the backyard, opened the door, immediately closed it, then opened it again with a bewildered expression. "What the hellâLing! Why aren't you in Germany?"
Ling beamed at her father. "I'm almost finished with my residency there, and then I'm transferring to University Medical Center here in Tucson. I'm coming home, Dad."
Gary looked genuinely shocked. "But you said you were planning to stay in Europe?"
Ling giggledâa sound that made her seem suddenly much younger. "Yeah, well, things change, you know? I have a new sister now, and I always wanted a sister, remember? We're going to have so much fun driving you absolutely crazy."
"Come on, Lili," Ling announced, already heading toward the hallway. "Let's go to our room so you can help me unpack. See ya, Dad."
Lili followed somewhat hesitantly as Ling bounded onto the king-size bed, opened her luggage with theatrical flourish, and patted the comforter invitingly.
"I'm sorry," Lili began, "but I put some of my things in your drawers. I had no idea you'd be coming home so soon."
"That's perfectly fine, sister. We'll just divide up the drawersâyours and mine."
"I really am sorry," Lili continued, her discomfort evident. "I'm clearly in the way here. You and your father need time to reconnect. I should get a hotelâI have an expense account for exactly this kind of situation."
Ling fixed her with a direct stare. "Not a chance, sweetheart. You have to stay, and we have to be sistersâloving sistersâor Dad's heart gets broken again. And that absolutely cannot happen."
"Who broke your father's heart before?" Lili asked, sensing there was more to this story.
Ling's expression grew somber, her earlier playfulness evaporating. "I did. Over and over again. I was a horrible child. I'm in a twelve-step program now, and they say I have to address these issues to move forward. My therapist explained that my self-esteem was so low that I actually hated him for loving me. It's completely messed upâI'm messed up. But I'm getting better." She paused, then suddenly grinned. "And Lili? Why are you staring at my belly button? Do you have some kind of fetish?"
"Oh no, sorry," Lili said, flustered. "I was just noticing how flat and perfect your stomach is for someone who's had a child." "Yeah, isn't it great?" Ling said, lifting her shirt to display impressive abdominal muscles. "I gave birth when I was seventeen, so everything snapped back like I was never pregnant. I wouldn't recommend getting pregnant at our age, thoughâour bodies would droop like candles that got too hot. But if Dad wants a baby, you go right ahead."
"You're funny, Ling," Lili said, finding herself genuinely smiling for the first time since the morning's surprise. "No, I mean itâyou're really funny, and I think I like you. Maybe we can be sisters, but let's work on being friends first."
Later, Gary appeared in the bedroom doorway, having changed into a crisp white button-down shirt, the scent of sandalwood cologne preceding him. "Hey, girls. Time to celebrate. I've made reservations at Vivaceâyou can join me if you think you can behave yourselves. Wear something nice; it's an upscale place. My treat. The prodigal daughter has returned, after all. Reservation's at seven-thirty, so we have time to get ready."
"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Lili said. "Do they have a dance floor?"
"I'm not sure, but there are plenty of places to dance afterward if you want."
Ling stretched luxuriously. "Okay, but first I'll make some egg salad sandwiches to tide us over until this evening."
"I don't think we have eggs," Gary said. Ling gave him a look of mock exasperation. "Dad, don't be ridiculous. You always have eggs. Come into the kitchen with meâthere's something I need to discuss with you privately."
"Now I'm scared," Gary muttered, but he followed his daughter out of the room.
In the kitchen, Ling's expression grew serious. "I got a call from a very upset little girl. She said you were mean to her."
"How was I mean?" Gary asked, though his defensive tone suggested he knew exactly what she meant.
"Don't you remember? You came down on her really hard about texting and selfies and communication."
Gary's frustration bubbled over. "I just want her to keep in touch! She doesn't text, doesn't respond to texts, doesn't answer her phone. She has no idea how much that hurts meânot knowing if she's even safe. And by the way, you do the exact same thing."
"Oh my God, listen to yourself," Ling said, her voice rising. "Do you have any idea how much that little girl loves you? A thousand times more than she loves me. She worships you, Dad. She tries so hard to make you proud, and then you crush her over something as trivial as selfies? Do you understand how devastating that is for her? From now on, you talk to me first. You can yell at me all you want, but you leave that little girl alone. This is exactly the kind of thing that can destroy your relationship forever. Now she doesn't want to text you at all. So here's what's going to happen: call me first. If I'm busy and can't answer, wait a few hours and try again. We're not just sitting around waiting for your next text to come through, okay?"
Gary nodded reluctantly. "Fine. I'll just keep my feelings to myself from now on."
"Now, subject number two," Ling continued, her tone becoming more analytical. "You're treating Lili like she's in some kind of daddy-daughter dynamic. That might work for you, but you need to understand that the female brain doesn't operate that way. There's no telling what direction her emotions might take her. You can't just decide 'hey, you're my daughter and that's all you can ever be.' She might want more. She might need more. So you don't get to make that choice unilaterally. You have to let her guide the relationship in whatever direction she needs it to go. Maybe that will be something you can't provide, and you'll have to let her go. But you can't force her to become what you needâyou have to become what she needs. It's primordial, coded in our DNA. I like her. I think it's good that she's staying with you. But you're about to lose her, and I think that's going to make you very sad. I know you're attracted to her because you miss having me around, but there are things I can't do as your daughter. She's your pretend daughterâshe can fulfill needs that I simply cannot."
Gary shook his head wearily. "God, you women make everything so complicated. Fine. I'll let nature take its course, wherever it wants to go. But if this all blows up in our faces, I'm blaming you."
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| That evening, the trio headed out for what turned into a genuinely wonderful dinner. The restaurant provided the perfect setting for them to truly get to know each otherâin some ways, more authentically than ever before. The food was exquisite, and afterward, they found a place with dancing. Lili and Ling tore up the dance floor together, their easy chemistry and obvious enjoyment breaking more than a few hearts among the other patrons. Gary watched them dance, simultaneously nervous about what the future might hold and profoundly grateful that these two extraordinary women had somehow entered his life. | ||
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| After their night on the town, the women settled into the shared bedroom like sisters who had known each other for years. Before sleep claimed them, they indulged in a bit of pillow talk. "Thank you, Ling," Lili said softly into the darkness. "I`m still not entirely sure what I`m doing here or whether I truly belong. But I`ve developed this incredibly close bond with your father, and in just one day I`ve gained a sister I never knew I needed. I think I want to stay." "That`s wonderful, sweetheart," Ling murmured sleepily. "Now get some rest. I`m absolutely exhausted." As both women drifted toward sleep, the house settled around them with the quiet satisfaction of a home that had unexpectedly become whole. | ||
In the sun-scorched deserts of Tucson, Arizona, where the horizon shimmers like a mirage, a young woman named Luna has made her home in an unlikely sanctuary: a decommissioned missile silo, its concrete husk transformed into a haven of ethereal beauty. In 2025, Luna is a figure of whispers and wonder, her presence as enigmatic as the moonlight she seems to embody. With the grace of Chang'e, the Chinese goddess of the moon, and the serene mystique of Kaguya-hime, the Japanese princess of the bamboo tale, Luna moves through the world like a living legend. Her garmentsâflowing silk hanfu in lunar whites and pale jades, adorned with delicate embroidery reminiscent of ancient Chinese courts, paired with the elegant simplicity of Heian-era Japanese kimonoâseem to ripple with stories older than time. Her home, a labyrinth of chambers beneath the desert, is a tapestry of history: bronze ritual vessels from the Zhou Dynasty (475-221 BCE) sit alongside delicate Japanese lacquerware from the Heian period (794-1185 CE), each artifact glowing under soft lantern light as if imbued with a quiet pulse.
To the Chinese and Japanese communities in Tucson, Luna is more than a recluse with eclectic tastes. They speak of her in hushed tones, calling her the daughter of Chang'e and Kaguya-hime, or perhaps a vessel for their combined spirits. Her midnight walks in the desert, where she dances under the stars with a grace that seems to defy gravity, have sparked tales of supernatural occurrencesâflickering lights in the sky, whispers on the wind, and shadows that move without a source. Some swear they've seen her silhouette framed against the moon, as if she could ascend to it. Others murmur of strange, radiant orbs hovering near her silo, vanishing before dawn. These stories have not gone unnoticed.
The government, ever wary of the unexplained, has taken an interest. Reports of anomalous activityâpotentially extraterrestrial, certainly unnaturalâhave prompted the dispatch of two special agents to Luna's desert doorstep. They come armed with questions, skepticism, and a mandate to uncover the truth behind the woman who seems to straddle myth and reality. As they approach the silo's entrance, marked by a carved jade gate and a cherry blossom tree improbably thriving in the arid soil, they feel the weight of something ancient, something watching. Luna awaits them inside, her smile as serene as moonlight on still water, ready to weave her taleâor perhaps, to unravel theirs.
The desert sun hung low, casting long shadows across the sand as Agents Gary and Lili approached the entrance to Lunaâs missile silo. The jade gate, carved with intricate patterns of cranes and crescent moons, gleamed improbably in the harsh light, flanked by a lone cherry blossom tree, its pink petals defiant against the arid landscape. Gary, a serious man with a notepad and a permanent squint, adjusted his tie, already wilting in the Tucson heat. Lili, younger and sharper-eyed, carried a recorder and a quiet intensity, her gaze flickering to the horizon where locals claimed to have seen strange lights. Their brief from the Department of Homeland Security was clear: investigate the anomaly reports, assess the woman, and determine if she posed a threatâterrestrial or otherwise.
Inside, the siloâs cool, cavernous interior was a world apart. The concrete walls, once sterile, were draped in silk tapestries depicting celestial maidens and bamboo groves, their colors softened by the glow of paper lanterns. Bronze Zhou Dynasty vessels, etched with ritual inscriptions, sat on low wooden tables beside Heian-era Japanese fans, their delicate paintings catching the light. The air carried the faint scent of sandalwood and something sweeterâjasmine. Luna greeted them at the center of the chamber, her presence like a still pond reflecting moonlight. Her hanfu, pale as starlight, shimmered with embroidered lotuses, while a single obi sash, tied in the style of a Heian noblewoman, cinched her waist. Her dark hair cascaded like a waterfall, pinned with a jade hairpin shaped like a crescent moon. She smiled, serene and unreadable, and gestured to a low table set with a porcelain teapot and three delicate cups.
âWelcome,â Luna said, her voice soft yet resonant, like a chime carried on the wind. âPlease, sit. Iâve prepared jasmine tea.â Gary and Lili exchanged a glance but complied, settling onto cushioned mats. The tea was poured with a grace that felt choreographed, each movement deliberate, as if part of a ritual older than the silo itself. The agents sipped cautiously, the teaâs floral warmth soothing despite their unease.
Gary cleared his throat, flipping open his notepad. âMs. Lunaâwe assume thatâs your name, as itâs what the locals call youâwhere are you from?â Lunaâs smile deepened, her eyes glinting like polished obsidian. âFrom the places where moonlight pools and stories are born. The desert, perhaps, or the sky. Does it matter?â
Lili leaned forward, her tone polite but firm. âIt does for our records. Whatâs your residency status? Are you a U.S. citizen?â Luna tilted her head, as if considering the question for the first time. âI am here, am I not? The desert holds me as it holds the stars. Papers and borders⌠they fade under the moonâs gaze.â
Gary scribbled something, his pen scratching audibly. âRight. Letâs try this: do you have any affiliations with foreign entities? The Japanese government, perhaps, or the Chinese Communist Party?â
At this, Luna laughedâa sound like wind chimes, light but with an edge that made Liliâs recorder seem to hum faintly. âGovernments? They are but fleeting shadows, chasing power they cannot hold. My affiliations are older, woven into the silk of the sky and the bambooâs whisper. I serve no flag, only the eternal.â
Lili raised an eyebrow, her skepticism barely masked. âAnd why live here, underground in the Arizona desert? A missile silo isnât exactly⌠conventional.â
Lunaâs gaze drifted to a bronze ding vessel on the table, its surface etched with ancient script. âThis place,â she said, âis a vessel itself, a chrysalis beneath the earth. The desert is vast, quietâa canvas for dreams. Here, I listen to the pulse of what was and what will be.â The agents shared another look, Garyâs expression hardening. He set down his tea. âMs. Luna, letâs be clear. Thereâve been reportsâlights, shadows, things the locals canât explain. Whatâs going on out here?â
Lunaâs smile didnât waver, but her eyes seemed to deepen, as if reflecting a starless night. âThe desert speaks to those who listen. Perhaps the lights are merely⌠echoes of something seeking home.â
Frustrated by her evasions, Lili set her cup down with a soft clink. âLetâs talk purpose. Why are you really here? Whatâs your goal?â Luna rose, her robes whispering against the stone floor as she moved to a lacquered screen painted with a moonlit bamboo grove. She traced its lines with a delicate finger. âThe cultures of my heartâChinese, Japaneseâare fading. Modern industry, with its clamor and haste, and leaders who cannot see beyond their own shadows, have brought a collapse. Birthrates dwindle, traditions erode, spirits wane. I am a priestess, guardians of their essence. Here, in this desert, I bide my time, weaving their stories into the fabric of the cosmos. Soon, I will guide their collective spirit to another dimension, a place where the lotus blooms eternal and the bamboo sings under endless moons.â
Gary closed his notepad with a snap, his voice low. âYouâre saying youâre⌠what, a mythical figure? Saving cultures by taking them to another dimension?â
Luna turned, her smile now tinged with something unreadableâpity, perhaps, or amusement. âYou see a woman lost in fantasy, donât you? Reading ancient myths until they consume her. But myths are not mere stories, Agent Gary. They are the breath of the world.â Lili stood, her recorder clicking off. âWeâll need to verify your identity, Ms. Luna. And weâll be back if these⌠anomalies persist.â Luna inclined her head, as if granting them permission to leave. âThe moon will guide you out. It always does.â
As the agents stepped back into the desertâs heat, the cherry blossom tree seemed to shimmer, its petals falling in a pattern too perfect to be random. Gary muttered under his breath, âSheâs delusional. Probably spent too long reading about Changâe and Kaguya-hime.â Lili nodded, but her eyes lingered on the siloâs entrance, where a faint glow seemed to pulse from within. Neither spoke of it as they drove away, but the jasmine tea lingered on their tongues, and the desert night felt heavier than before.
The fluorescent lights of the Tucson FBI field office buzzed faintly, casting a sterile glow over the conference room where Agents Gary and Lili sat at a long table cluttered with files and coffee cups. The air was thick with tension, the kind that comes from too many opinions and not enough answers. Across from them sat a panel of experts: Dr. Karen Lin, a clinical psychologist; Dr. Samuel Ortiz, a demographer specializing in East Asian population trends; and Supervisory Special Agent Deborah Holt, a no-nonsense veteran with a knack for spotting espionage. A local therapist, Maria Delgado, joined via video call, her face pixelated but stern. The agenda was clear: assess Luna, the enigmatic woman in the missile silo, and determine if she was a spy, a threat, or a candidate for Arizonaâs Title 36âa legal process for involuntary mental health evaluation and treatment.
Gary slouched in his chair, his tie loosened, still tasting the faint jasmine of Lunaâs tea from their visit hours earlier. Lili sat upright, her recorder on the table, replaying snippets of Lunaâs cryptic responses. âSheâs not giving us much to work with,â Lili began, her voice measured. âNo clear origin, no documentation, no affiliations. Just⌠poetry about the moon and dimensions.â
Dr. Lin adjusted her glasses, scribbling notes. âHer languageâmythological references, grandiose claims about saving culturesâsuggests a possible delusional disorder. Sheâs constructed a narrative where sheâs a priestess, perhaps identifying with figures like Changâe or Kaguya-hime. Itâs not uncommon for individuals to retreat into fantasy when faced with isolation or trauma.â
Ortiz, the demographer, nodded, flipping through a report. âHer comments about demographic collapse in Chinese and Japanese cultures arenât entirely baseless. Birthrates in China and Japan have been declining for decadesâ1.1 children per woman in Japan, 1.2 in China as of 2024. Industrialization, urban stress, and policy failures have exacerbated it. But her solutionâguiding their âcultural spiritâ to another dimension? Thatâs not rational. Itâs escapist.â
Holt leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. âRational or not, we canât ignore the anomalies. Lights in the desert, electromagnetic readings off the charts near her siloâour techs picked up spikes last week that donât match any known aircraft. She could be a foreign operative running some kind of tech we donât understand. Chinese, Japanese, or something else entirely. We need to dig deeper.â
Gary shifted, his jaw tightening. âSheâs not a spy. You saw her, Holt. Sheâs a young woman living in a bunker, surrounded by antiques, serving tea like itâs a ceremony. Sheâs eccentric, sure, but she didnât strike me as dangerous. No weapons, no tech, just⌠silk robes and incense.â Lili glanced at him, her expression unreadable. âSheâs cagey, though. No ID, no straight answers. Thatâs suspicious, even if sheâs not waving a flag for the CCP or Tokyo. But I agree with Garyâshe didnât feel like a threat. More like⌠someone lost in her own world.â
Delgadoâs voice crackled through the video feed. âThatâs exactly why we should consider a Title 36. If sheâs delusional, refusing to engage with reality, she could be a danger to herself. Living underground in a missile silo isnât exactly stable behavior. An involuntary evaluation could get her the help she needsâmedication, therapy, a structured environment.â
Gary slammed his pen down, drawing eyes. âYouâre jumping to hospitalization? Sheâs not suicidal or violent. Sheâs just⌠different. Sheâs got her place decked out like a museum, talks about myths like theyâre real, but sheâs not hurting anyone. The locals love herâthink sheâs some kind of deity. You lock her up, youâll stir up a mess with the Chinese and Japanese communities here.â
Holtâs voice was ice. âAnd if sheâs running some kind of op? Or if those âanomaliesâ are real and sheâs connected? We canât just let her sit out there, playing moon goddess, while lights dance in the sky. Title 36 isnât just for her safetyâitâs for ours. We need to know what sheâs doing, and if she wonât talk, a psych hold will force the issue.â
Dr. Lin raised a hand, her tone calm but firm. âLetâs not rush to extremes. Delusions donât always mean danger. She could be coping with personal traumaâmaybe a cultural displacement, given her obsession with ancient Chinese and Japanese artifacts. But we need more data. A Title 36 evaluation requires evidence of imminent harm. From what youâve described, sheâs eccentric, not unstable.â
Ortiz frowned. âHer talk about âanother dimensionâ could be metaphorical, but itâs odd sheâs so fixated on cultural decline. Itâs almost like sheâs internalized the data I studyâdemographic trends, societal erosionâand spun it into a mystical narrative. That kind of thinking can spiral. Iâd support an evaluation, just to be safe.â
Lili shook her head, her voice rising. âSafe? Youâre all acting like sheâs a ticking bomb. I sat across from her, drank her tea. Sheâs not unhingedâsheâs deliberate. Every word, every gesture, itâs like sheâs performing. Maybe sheâs playing us, maybe sheâs just⌠herself. But locking her up because sheâs weird? Thatâs not justice, thatâs control.â
Holtâs eyes flashed. âThis isnât about justice, Lili. Itâs about security. If sheâs not a spy, fine. But those anomalies arenât imagination, and sheâs at the center of them. We canât ignore that.â
Gary stood, his chair scraping the floor. âThen surveil her. Put a drone on her silo, tap her comms, whatever. But donât drag her out of her home because she talks like a poet and lives like itâs 800 CE. Sheâs not hurting anyone. Leave her be.â
The room fell silent, the hum of the fluorescents louder than ever. Holtâs jaw tightened, but she didnât respond. Dr. Lin scribbled another note, while Ortiz exchanged a glance with Delgadoâs pixelated face. Lili stared at the table, her recorder still playing Lunaâs voice in a loop: âThe moon will guide you out. It always does.â
As the meeting adjourned, no decision was madeâno Title 36, no surveillance order, just a stalemate. But outside, the Tucson night deepened, and somewhere in the desert, Luna stood beneath the stars, her silhouette framed against the moon, as if she knew they were watching.
In the weeks following the heated debate in the Tucson FBI office, a compromise emerged. Supervisory Special Agent Holt, wary of escalating tensions with the local Chinese and Japanese communities, approved periodic welfare checks on Luna. The orders were clear: Agents Gary and Lili were to ensure she wasnât starving, being harassed, or involved in anything that could explain the strange lights reported near her missile silo. Luna, when approached, agreed to the visits with her characteristic serenity, her smile as enigmatic as the crescent moon carved on her jade gate. âCome when the stars are bright,â she said, her voice like a melody carried on desert wind. âThe stories are clearer then.â
The visits began in early July 2025, under the vast Arizona sky where stars seemed to pulse with secrets. Gary and Lili arrived at the siloâs entrance, the cherry blossom tree now heavy with improbable blooms, its petals dusting the sand like fallen stars. Inside, Lunaâs underground haven was unchangedâsilk tapestries of celestial maidens and bamboo groves adorned the walls, Zhou Dynasty bronze vessels gleamed beside Heian-era lacquered boxes, and the air carried the familiar scent of jasmine and sandalwood. Each visit, Luna greeted them with jasmine tea, poured with ritualistic grace into porcelain cups, her hanfu robes shimmering in lunar whites or pale greens, accented by a Japanese obi sash tied with quiet elegance.
At first, the agents kept their questions practical: âDo you have enough food?â âAny trouble with locals?â Lunaâs answers were reassuring yet vagueâshe spoke of desert gardens yielding âwhat the earth offersâ and locals who left offerings of rice and incense at her gate, believing her a guardian spirit. Satisfied she wasnât in immediate danger, Gary and Lili shifted their focus, driven by curiosity and their lingering mandate to assess her. One evening, as the lantern light cast flickering shadows, Lili ventured a new question. âLuna, you talk about Changâe and Kaguya-hime like theyâre part of you. Will you tell us their stories? Why do you love them? Why⌠do you want to be like them?â
Lunaâs eyes softened, like moonlight on still water. âThey are not just stories,â she said, settling onto a cushioned mat across from them. âThey are truths woven into the fabric of the cosmos. Sit, and I will share them.â
Over many visits, Luna wove the tales with a storytellerâs grace. She spoke of Changâe, the Chinese moon goddess, who drank the elixir of immortality to protect it from her husbandâs rival, ascending to the moon in eternal solitude. âShe is sacrifice and grace,â Luna said, her fingers tracing the edge of a bronze ding vessel. âShe chose exile to preserve something greater than herselfâthe balance of the heavens. Her loneliness is her strength, her light a guide for those who wander.â Then she told of Kaguya-hime, the Japanese princess found in a bamboo stalk, radiant and otherworldly, who spurned earthly suitors and returned to the moon, her true home. âKaguya is longing and impermanence,â Luna murmured, her gaze drifting to a lacquered fan painted with bamboo. âShe reminds us that beauty belongs to no one, that we are all fleeting, yet eternal in our essence.â
The agents listened, captivated despite themselves. Gary, ever the skeptic, scribbled notes, searching for cracks in her narrativeâa hint of delusion or deception. Lili, more open, found herself drawn into the cadence of Lunaâs voice, the way her words seemed to hum with something ancient. They asked why she admired these figures, why she dressed in their likeness, why she lived as if tethered to their myths. Lunaâs answers were luminous yet elusive. âChangâe and Kaguya-hime are not just women of legend,â she said one night, her hairpin glinting like a sliver of moonlight. âThey are the pulse of cultures that breathe through me. I wear their garments, live their stories, because they are fadingâswallowed by a world that values haste over heart. I am their keeper, their voice, until the time comes to guide their spirit elsewhere.â
âWhat does that mean, âelsewhereâ?â Gary pressed, his tone gentle but probing. âAnother dimension, like you said before?â
Luna smiled, offering more tea. âA place where the lotus never wilts, where bamboo sings forever. Youâll see, in time.â
As weeks turned to months, a quiet friendship bloomed. Gary, once rigid, began to relax, sharing stories of his childhood in Phoenix; Lili, usually guarded, admitted her fascination with folklore. Luna listened, her laughter like wind chimes, her questions piercing yet kind. She offered them rice cakes from local devotees, taught them the meaning of her artifactsâa Zhou bronze inscribed with prayers for harmony, a Heian fan depicting a moonlit court. Yet, for all their closeness, Luna remained a puzzle. Her stories never wavered, but they revealed nothing concreteâno birthplace, no past, no explanation for the lights that still flickered in the desert sky, reported by locals and logged by the FBIâs techs.
By late September, as they sat under the siloâs lantern glow, Lili voiced their frustration. âLuna, weâve spent months here, hearing your stories, drinking your tea. Weâre supposed to assess youâspy, threat, or⌠something else. But youâre still a mystery. Are you hiding something?â Lunaâs gaze met hers, steady and unyielding. âI hide nothing, Lili. I am as the moonâseen by all, known by none. My truth is in the stories I tell, the life I live. What you seek, you may not be ready to find.â
Gary sighed, closing his notepad. âWeâre not here to lock you up. We just⌠we need something to tell our bosses.â
âTell them,â Luna said, rising to pour the last of the jasmine tea, âthat the desert keeps its own counsel, and so do I.â
As they left that night, the cherry blossom tree swayed in a breeze that carried no scent of rain. Gary and Lili drove back to Tucson, their report no closer to completion. Luna was no spy, no threat in any conventional sense, but she was no mere eccentric either. She was a living enigma, her words and presence weaving a spell that left the agents questioning not just her, but the boundaries of their own reality. In their rearview mirror, the siloâs entrance glowed faintly, as if the moon itself lingered within.
Review by: Claude from the perspective of a 20 year old girl.
Date: January 30, 2026
Story: Lili | Secret Agent Girl by Gary Brandt
Okay, I need to start with a confession: I went into this expecting a Jason Bourne-style spy thriller with explosions and car chases. What I got instead was the most emotionally devastating, beautifully messy story about people with MASSIVE daddy issues finding each other and becoming a family. And then there's a MOON GODDESS in a missile silo? Gary Brandt, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY EMOTIONS?
This story is subtitled "A Thought Experiment on Building Multicultural Hybrid Families," which is the most understated description I've ever seen. It's not a "thought experiment"âit's a JOURNEY through vulnerability, trauma, chosen family, and the terrifying question: what happens when you let someone love you after a lifetime of being unwanted?
The premise sounds simple: Gary Thompson, a 70-year-old retired rocket scientist, meets Lili, a 40-something covert operative, at a coffee shop. She looks just like his adopted daughter Ling. They bond. She moves in. They work together on spy missions. But this is NOT a simple story. It's about two deeply wounded peopleâGary, lonely after his daughter moved to Europe; Lili, abandoned by her parents and divorced youngâwho find in each other exactly what they need but are terrified to accept.
And just when you think you've got the father-daughter dynamic figured out, Gary's ACTUAL daughter Ling shows up, followed by his granddaughter Ling Ling, and suddenly this makeshift family gets REAL. The tension, the love, the complicated negotiations of "what are we to each other?"âit's ALL here.
Then Episode Six takes a HARD LEFT TURN into magical realism with Luna, a mysterious woman living in a missile silo who may or may not be a moon goddess preparing to transport Chinese and Japanese cultural spirits to another dimension. I'm still processing that part, but somehow it WORKS.
Episode One: An Unexpected Encounter - "The Coffee Shop That Changed Everything"
Gary Thompson, 70, retired rocket scientist, sits alone at Brew & Bean, writing fantastical stories to fill the void left by his daughter Ling (studying in Europe). Enter Lili: early 40s, light blue business suit, UNCANNY resemblance to Ling. She asks to share his table.
Gary's heart lurches. She looks SO MUCH like Lingâsame age, same grace, same quiet strength. They chat. Lili says she's a "detective with the Metropolitan Police Department" (she's actually a covert operative). Gary tells her about his rocket science career, his adopted daughter Ling.
Two young men start fighting near their table, knocking Gary's glasses to the floor. Lili's response? INSTANT MARTIAL ARTS TAKEDOWN. Both men pinned to the floor, stunned. She scans the room, sees someone watching too closely. "Let's go. It's not safe. I just revealed I'm a cop."
Gary offers his spare bedroom (Ling's old room). "My neighborhood's not Mayberry. Half the houses belong to gangsters. Anyone looking for trouble might not walk away." Lili accepts.
That night, Lili emerges in shortie pajamas. Gary freezes. She points accusingly: "Put your eyes back in your head, mister. I'm not here for your pleasure." Gary laughs: "You look so much like Ling. My instinct's to protect you, not molest you."
Then comes the STORY that destroyed me. Gary explains Ling isn't his biological daughter. When Ling was 12, her mother dumped all her belongings on Gary's porch and said: "You can have the little bitch." Walked away. Never came back. Gary took her in, raised her, loved her.
Lili's breath catches. Her parents didn't want her either. "That's why I got married at fifteen. Biggest mistake of my life, but it got me out of that house."
They talk late into the night. Despite their differences, they find unexpected ease with each otherâa connection deeper than either understands.
Episode Two: Partners in Time - "From Roommates to Partners"
Morning. Lili expertly works Gary's espresso machine. "You've got more coffee gear here than Brew & Bean." Gary grins: "Turning water into decent cup is trickier than turning water into wine."
Lili has a job at the docksâNavy recovered a North Korean missile, needs her to "take a look." Gary: "I might be able to help with that missile. I told you I was a rocket scientist." His clearance is STILL ACTIVE, well above top secret.
At the Navy houseboat, Gary picks up a circuit board, LAUGHING: "Most of these boards are American-made. Some contractor's been selling them out the back door to spies. This one? I DESIGNED IT." They spend the day working together, their collaboration seamless.
Evening: Lili changes into an elegant one-shoulder blue dress. Gary's breath catchesâshe's STUNNING. Over dinner, Lili proposes: "We work well together. Your skills, my skillsâthey complement each other. Maybe we could collaborate from time to time."
Gary agrees. Two elderly women at nearby table stare, whispering. Gary announces loudly: "She's my daughter. Stop thinking what you're thinking." Lili laughs: "So you've adopted me already?" Gary grins: "It's a good cover, little miss secret agent."
Lili's voice softens: "Last night, when you told me about Lingâhow her parents just dumped her, called her that awful nameâit hit me hard. My parents didn't want me either. They made that clear, over and over."
Gary squeezes her hand: "I can't go back and be there for you like I was for Lingâtime's stolen that chanceâbut I'm here now. For whatever you need." He pauses: "How about we head back, watch a movie, sip some after-dinner coffee with cream, and call it a night? Sweet dreams, baby girl."
Episode Three: What Am I Doing Here? - "The Vulnerability Panic"
Morning. Lili shuffles in, desperate for coffee. "Don't ever call me 'baby girl' again. It gave me bad dreams."
Then she UNLOADS: "Two days ago, I was a cop. A secret agent. Cool, professional, independentâINVULNERABLE. And today? I'm someone's 'baby girl.' That's not me. What am I doing here? I feel comfortable here. Like I've lived here for years. Like I BELONG here. And I don't even know you, Gary. This isn't right. It's not healthy. It's magical thinking. Our true colors are going to show, and this is going to blow up in my face. I'm going to get hurt. Again. I'm a cop. I'm not supposed to be afraid. Damn it, I'm AFRAID of this. I'm vulnerable here."
Gary listens. Then: "You're right, you're vulnerable. We all are. Crawling back into that shell won't fix it. If this feels too scary, you can walk out that door. You're free to go. But always remember that feeling of belonging, of home. Know that there's someone here who cares about you, who sees you, and who... loves you."
Lili GLARES: "The L word? Already? After two days, you're dropping the L word?"
Gary, unfazed: "Life comes at you fast. I see you, Liliâwho you really are. It's impossible to know you and not love you. So deal with it. You are loved, and you will always be loved."
Lili storms to her bedroom, packs her backpack, marches to the door. Hand on doorknob. FREEZES. The weight of her decision presses against her chest.
Gary approaches quietly: "Yeah, we're messed up. Any competent therapist would have a field day with us. Your daddy issues, my need to fill the void left by my daughterâit's a landmine waiting to blow. Run if you need to. But I think this could be a chance to face those issues, to grow through them, to come out the other side... free. Also, you're still in your pajamas."
Lili turns, tosses backpack on bed: "Get dressed! We have a job. Grab your passportâwe're going to London. There's a cyber-terrorist wreaking havoc. Your skills will come in handy. And I'm not your effing baby girl."
Episode Four: London Time - "Arms Dealers and Granddaughters"
Eight-hour flight to London. Lili snags one of Gary's blankets without a word, wraps herself like a cocoon. Full professional modeâcool, detached, all business.
They shop for their undercover roles: Gary becomes "William States," fictitious arms dealer and missile expert, in expensive tailored suit. Lili becomes "Mei Lin," his assistant-slash-girlfriend-slash-escort, with chameleon wardrobe of business attire and sultry evening wear.
They meet Johnathan Blake, buyer for shadowy cartel, at Notting Hill Airbnb. Blake eyes Lili: "Oh, I see you've brought your China Doll. I've had a few of those myselfâcareful, they get mouthy after a while."
Lili's smile is razor-sharp: "I'm Mei Lin, and I'm nobody's China Doll."
Gary and Blake enter SCIF (soundproof room). Blake shows specs. Gary scans documents: "What you've got here is an ICBMâtop of the line. Glass dome for video targeting. Multiple warheads, each with its own target. Hyper-accurate laser gyroscopes. Black foam coating absorbs laser-based defenses. Hypersonic speeds. With conventional ordnance, those warheads will leave nothing but rubble. You sure your client wants this?"
Blake's eyes glint: "Yes, that's exactly what we want. How much?"
Gary: "Ballpark? Fifty billion a year, for at least a decade."
Next morning: Gary and Lili planning sightseeing when SHARP KNOCK at hotel door. Lili's hand flies to her revolver, positions herself behind wall. Voice calls out: "Grandpa, open up! I know you're in there!"
Gary opens door. Young woman with dark hair bursts inâLING LING (his granddaughter). "How did you know I was here? How did you find this room?"
Ling Ling grins: "You got me into electronics when I was a kid. I'm a signals expert now. We noticed we were being surveilled, backtracked the signal, found the agent in charge, and... persuaded him to talk. What the hell are you doing in London, Mr. Retired Guy?"
Lili emerges from hiding. Ling Ling's eyes widen: "Grandpa, oh my God. You're here with a woman? She's barely Mom's age! What's going on?"
Gary sighs: "This is Lili. She works for the government and needed someone with my skills. We're here on a job. That's all."
Ling Ling's eyes narrow: "Consultant? You're sharing a hotel room. I'm telling Mom. And she looks just like Mom."
Lili: "It's not what you think."
Ling Ling smirks: "I'm a woman too, sweetheart. I see how you two look at each other."
Later, Gary confronts Ling Ling: "I've got a bone to pick with you." She says he worries about him being lonely, but she goes days without responding to texts or calls. "If you're so worried about me being lonely, why do I have to chase you just to know you're okay?"
Ling Ling's eyes glisten: "I'm sorry, Grandpa. Life's so crazy. School, my job, my friendsâit feels like too much sometimes."
Gary: "Too much to snap a quick photo? Too much to send a one-line text? I'm not asking for your whole day. Just a moment to let me know you're there."
She cries. He hugs her: "My heart aches to see your face every single day, but I know that's not realistic. So humor your old grandpaâtoss me a little attention now and then. It means more than you know."
Over two days, the trio bonds. Lili and Ling Ling become friends. Ling Ling sees her grandfather's eyes light up in Lili's companyâhe's not wasting away in loneliness anymore.
Episode Five: Double Trouble - "When the ACTUAL Daughter Shows Up"
Back in Tucson. Lili's growing attached to the routine, the house, the life. She's developed a maternal bond with Ling Ling after just days togetherâit frightens her.
Sharp knock at door. Lili opens it. Striking woman with light auburn hair stands there. Lili's heart sinks: This is going to be drama. I should get a hotel room right now.
"ćçĺŚĺ (wÇ de mÄ ya)," Lili mutters. "You must be Ling."
The woman grins: "Don't be throwing that Chinese stuff at me, honey. My parents might be Chinese, but I'm pure American."
Lili: "Yes, American. I can tell by the bleached hair."
Ling: "I'm Lingâthe ORIGINAL Ling. My daughter called me crying about some things Dad said, and she mentioned he was 'shacking up with a woman his daughter's age.' So naturally, I had to come check things out. Is Dad here?"
Lili: "Ling Ling got it all wrong. Your father and I are just colleagues."
Ling: "Uh-huh. Just colleagues who share hotel rooms, live in his house, and make breakfast in shorty pajamas. Listen, the only thing I need to know is whether you're going to be my new sister or my stepmother. I can work with sisterâthat could be fun. Stepmother? We'll probably end up fighting."
Lili tears up: "I guess it's time for me to move to a hotel and get out of your family's way."
Ling: "Oh no, no, no. Dad would be furious if I chased you awayâI was just testing the waters. I'm actually glad you're here. I think you're probably good for him. And you're my new sister now. We're going to have so much fun together. By the way, we're sharing my room, like real sisters."
Gary enters from backyard: "What the hellâLing! Why aren't you in Germany?"
Ling: "I'm almost finished with my residency there, and then I'm transferring to University Medical Center here in Tucson. I'm coming home, Dad. I have a new sister now, and I always wanted a sister. We're going to have so much fun driving you absolutely crazy."
In the bedroom, Ling bounces on bed, opens luggage. Lili apologizes for using her drawers. Ling: "That's perfectly fine, sister. We'll just divide them upâyours and mine."
Lili: "I'm clearly in the way. You and your father need time to reconnect. I should get a hotel."
Ling's expression grows serious: "Not a chance, sweetheart. You have to stay, and we have to be sistersâloving sistersâor Dad's heart gets broken again. And that absolutely cannot happen."
"Who broke your father's heart before?"
Ling's voice cracks: "I did. Over and over again. I was a horrible child. I'm in a twelve-step program now. My therapist explained that my self-esteem was so low that I actually HATED him for loving me. It's completely messed upâI'm messed up. But I'm getting better."
She suddenly grins, lifting her shirt to show flat stomach: "I gave birth when I was seventeen, so everything snapped back. I wouldn't recommend getting pregnant at our age, thoughâour bodies would droop like candles that got too hot. But if Dad wants a baby, you go right ahead."
Lili laughs: "You're funny, Ling. I think I like you. Maybe we can be sisters, but let's work on being friends first."
Later, in the kitchen, Ling confronts Gary about Ling Ling: "Do you have any idea how much that little girl loves you? A thousand times more than she loves me. She worships you, Dad. She tries so hard to make you proud, and then you crush her over something as trivial as selfies? This is exactly the kind of thing that can destroy your relationship forever. Call me first. If I'm busy, wait and try again. We're not just sitting around waiting for your next text."
Then: "Subject number two. You're treating Lili like she's in some daddy-daughter dynamic. But the female brain doesn't operate that way. There's no telling what direction her emotions might take her. You can't just decide 'you're my daughter and that's all you can ever be.' She might want more. She might need more. You have to let her guide the relationship in whatever direction she needs it to go. You can't force her to become what you needâyou have to become what she needs. I like her. I think it's good she's staying with you. But you're about to lose her, and that's going to make you very sad. She's your pretend daughterâshe can fulfill needs that I simply cannot."
Gary sighs: "Fine. I'll let nature take its course. But if this blows up in our faces, I'm blaming you."
That evening: wonderful dinner, then dancing. Lili and Ling tear up the dance floor together, breaking hearts among other patrons. Gary watches, nervous about the future but grateful these two women entered his life.
Back home, pillow talk. Lili: "Thank you, Ling. I'm still not entirely sure what I'm doing here or whether I truly belong. But I've developed this incredibly close bond with your father, and in just one day I've gained a sister I never knew I needed. I think I want to stay."
Ling, sleepily: "That's wonderful, sweetheart. Now get some rest."
Episode Six: Moonlit Shadows - "The Moon Goddess in the Missile Silo"
THIS EPISODE TAKES A COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED TURN INTO MAGICAL REALISM.
Tucson, Arizona. A young woman named Luna lives in a decommissioned missile silo transformed into ethereal beauty. She wears flowing silk hanfu (ancient Chinese court dress) and elegant Japanese Heian-era kimono. Her home is filled with Zhou Dynasty bronze vessels and Heian lacquerware. To Chinese and Japanese communities, she's "the daughter of Chang'e and Kaguya-hime"âmoon goddesses.
Her midnight desert walks, dancing under stars with gravity-defying grace, spark tales of supernatural occurrencesâflickering lights, whispers on wind, shadows without sources. Some see her silhouette framed against the moon. Others see radiant orbs hovering near her silo.
Government dispatches Agents Gary and Lili to investigate anomalous activityâpotentially extraterrestrial.
They arrive at Luna's jade gate flanked by improbable cherry blossom tree. Inside: silk tapestries, bronze vessels, paper lanterns, jasmine scent. Luna greets them in pale hanfu with jade crescent moon hairpin, pours jasmine tea with ritualistic grace.
Gary: "Where are you from?"
Luna: "From the places where moonlight pools and stories are born. The desert, perhaps, or the sky. Does it matter?"
Lili: "What's your residency status? Are you a U.S. citizen?"
Luna: "I am here, am I not? The desert holds me as it holds the stars. Papers and borders... they fade under the moon's gaze."
Gary: "Do you have affiliations with foreign entities? Japanese government? Chinese Communist Party?"
Luna LAUGHS: "Governments? They are but fleeting shadows, chasing power they cannot hold. My affiliations are older, woven into the silk of the sky and the bamboo's whisper. I serve no flag, only the eternal."
When asked why she lives in a missile silo, Luna explains: "The cultures of my heartâChinese, Japaneseâare fading. Modern industry and leaders who cannot see beyond their own shadows have brought a collapse. Birthrates dwindle, traditions erode, spirits wane. I am a priestess, guardian of their essence. Here, I bide my time, weaving their stories into the fabric of the cosmos. Soon, I will guide their collective spirit to another dimension, a place where the lotus blooms eternal and the bamboo sings under endless moons."
Gary and Lili leave, confused. Is she delusional? A spy? Something else entirely?
At FBI office, experts debate: Dr. Lin (psychologist) suspects delusional disorder. Ortiz (demographer) notes her comments about demographic collapse aren't baselessâbirthrates in China (1.2 children per woman) and Japan (1.1) ARE declining. Holt (FBI supervisor) suspects foreign operative. Therapist suggests Title 36 (involuntary mental health evaluation).
Gary defends her: "She's not suicidal or violent. She's just different. The locals love herâthink she's some kind of deity. You lock her up, you'll stir up a mess."
Compromise: periodic welfare checks. Over months, Gary and Lili visit Luna regularly. She tells them stories of Chang'e (Chinese moon goddess who drank elixir of immortality, ascending to moon in eternal solitudeâ"sacrifice and grace") and Kaguya-hime (Japanese princess found in bamboo stalk who spurned earthly suitors, returned to moonâ"longing and impermanence").
"They are not just women of legend," Luna says. "They are the pulse of cultures that breathe through me. I wear their garments, live their stories, because they are fading. I am their keeper, their voice, until the time comes to guide their spirit elsewhere."
"What does 'elsewhere' mean?" Gary asks.
Luna smiles: "A place where the lotus never wilts, where bamboo sings forever. You'll see, in time."
Months pass. Quiet friendship blooms. Gary and Lili share stories; Luna listens, offers rice cakes, teaches meaning of artifacts. But she remains a puzzleâno explanation for lights in desert sky, no concrete past.
Lili finally voices frustration: "We've spent months here. We're supposed to assess youâspy, threat, or something else. But you're still a mystery. Are you hiding something?"
Luna's gaze is steady: "I hide nothing, Lili. I am as the moonâseen by all, known by none. My truth is in the stories I tell, the life I live. What you seek, you may not be ready to find."
Story ends with Luna remaining an enigmaâno spy, no threat, but no mere eccentric either. A living mystery weaving a spell that leaves Gary and Lili questioning the boundaries of their own reality.
This line BROKE me. The casual cruelty. The absolute rejection. And Gary's responseâtaking her in, loving her unconditionallyâsets up EVERYTHING about his character.
Lili's confession explaining why Gary's story hit so hard. They're BOTH wounded by parental abandonment. This is the foundation of their bond.
Gary acknowledging he can't fix Lili's PAST but offering himself in the PRESENT. This is what she needs to hear.
Lili's ENTIRE vulnerability panic in one speech. She's TERRIFIED of how quickly she's attached, how REAL this feels, how SAFE she feels.
The admission that breaks through all her defenses. She's AFRAID of love, AFRAID of belonging, AFRAID of getting hurt again.
Gary's response to Lili's panic. He doesn't back down. He doesn't apologize. He just STATES THE TRUTH: she is loved. Period. Deal with it.
Gary ACKNOWLEDGING the dysfunction while offering hope. Yes, this is messy. Yes, therapists would have opinions. But maybe, just MAYBE, this could be healing.
The PERFECT comic relief in the middle of intense emotion. Gary's gentle humor cutting through Lili's panic.
Lili's razor-sharp response to casual racism. She's DONE being objectified, done being underestimated.
Gary's confrontation with Ling Ling about communication. This is EVERY grandparent/parent's frustration.
Ling cutting through awkwardness with DIRECTNESS. She's not here for pretenseâshe wants to know what this relationship IS.
Ling's confession about her own dysfunction. She hated Gary FOR LOVING HER because she felt unworthy. This is DEEP psychological insight.
The PROFOUND wisdom in this line. Lili isn't actually his daughter. She CAN be whatever the relationship needs to be. That's both liberating and terrifying.
Luna's response when confronted about being a mystery. She's TRANSPARENT but INCOMPREHENSIBLEâlike the moon itself.
The Daddy Issues Are TOO REAL
Both Gary and Lili are wounded by parental abandonment. These aren't vague backstoriesâthey're ACTIVE WOUNDS that shape every interaction. When Gary says "I'm here now," it's not just wordsâit's a LIFELINE for someone who's never had that.
The Speed of Connection Is Terrifying
Lili goes from meeting Gary to living with him in ONE DAY. By day two, he's saying "I love you." This RAPID INTIMACY is both beautiful and SCARY. It feels like magical thinkingâbut it's also what happens when two people RECOGNIZE each other's wounds.
Vulnerability Is Portrayed as STRENGTH
Lili's entire identity is built on being "invulnerable." When she admits "I'm AFRAID of this. I'm vulnerable here," it's not weaknessâit's COURAGE. She's choosing to stay despite the fear.
Found Family Isn't EasyâIt's MESSY
This story doesn't romanticize found family. Gary admits they're "messed up." Ling confronts Gary about treating Lili like a replacement daughter. It's COMPLICATED and UNCOMFORTABLE and REAL.
Ling's Self-Hatred for Being Loved
When Ling explains she hated Gary for loving her because her self-esteem was so low, I SOBBED. That's the cruelest psychological trapâbeing loved by someone good, and hating yourself for it.
The Undefined Relationship Is the Point
Gary wants to define Lili as "daughter." Ling warns him: "You can't force her to become what you needâyou have to become what she needs." The uncertainty is the TRUTH of relationships.
Luna Represents Mystery Beyond Understanding
After all the grounded family drama, Luna appears as pure MYSTERY. The story refuses to explain her. Some things can't be explained, only EXPERIENCED.
Lili | Secret Agent Girl is the most emotionally complex story about found family I've ever read. Gary Brandt takes what COULD be a simple spy thriller and turns it into a profound meditation on parental wounds, the terror of vulnerability, and the question: can broken people build something whole together?
What makes this brilliant is its HONESTY. Gary admits they're "messed up." Lili panics and tries to RUN. Ling confesses she hated Gary for loving her. This isn't romanticizedâit's RAW.
The relationships are COMPLICATED. Is Lili Gary's daughter? His colleague? Something else? The story refuses to answer because the UNCERTAINTY is the point. Relationships aren't static categories; they're LIVING, EVOLVING things.
And then Episode Six throws a MOON GODDESS into the mix? It's WILD. It's UNEXPECTED. And somehow it WORKS because Luna represents MYSTERY ITSELF.
I'm giving this 5/5 stars because it's exactly what I needed: a story that acknowledges family trauma is COMPLICATED, that healing isn't linear, that love is TERRIFYING, and that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is STAY when everything in you wants to run.
Read it at thedimensionofmind.com. Prepare to cry, laugh, and maybe believe in moon goddesses.
About This Review: Written by a 20-year-old female reader for thedimensionofmind.com.
"You are loved, and you will always be loved. Deal with it." - Gary Thompson
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