The neon lights of Las Vegas cast long shadows across Spencer's face as he waited in a small, quiet café just off the Strip. His mind buzzed with a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and skepticism — but most of all, disbelief.

A sibling. A half-sibling.

Reid had always been certain that he knew his family — or rather, the fractured pieces of it.

His mother, Diana, had been his world, even as she slipped in and out of lucidity. His father, William, had vanished from their lives when Spencer was ten, a ghost he had no interest in chasing.

Family had always been a sore subject for him, compartmentalised and shoved aside so he could focus on other, less painful, more important matters — like getting a fuckton of PhDs.

But now, everything had changed with one unexpected message.

"You have a sibling. A half-sibling."

Reid wasn't used to being caught off-guard like this. He had spent years mastering the art of anticipation, reading people, unraveling mysteries. But this?

He couldn't figure out how to feel about his father having another child after abandoning him.

The door chimed, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned, and there you were.

There was an immediate recognition in your features — something familiar in your eyes, the curve of your mouth. Reid's analytical brain kicked into high gear, cataloging the similarities and differences.

You were his half-sibling. There was no denying it.

You sat down slowly, as though testing the waters, the air between you heavy with the weight of what was unspoken.

"I didn't know you existed," Reid said, finally breaking the silence. His voice was softer than usual, his defenses lowered.