Present Day - Tuesday Morning, 6 AM
The man sitting across from Aria in the warehouse looks nothing like the father she remembers.
Richard Vale was tall and broad-shouldered in her memories, with kind eyes and gentle hands that helped her build science projects.
This man is smaller, grayer, worn down by twenty years of living under an assumed identity.
But his eyes are the same.
"Hello, sweetheart."
The words hit harder than any revelation about government conspiracies.
"You're supposed to be dead."
"I am dead. Richard Vale died in a car accident in 2003. The man sitting here is David Chen, a retired software engineer from Portland."
He gestures to himself with bitter humor.
"Complete with a social security number, credit history, and a small apartment overlooking the Columbia Ri
