FULCRUM: PART TWO

This is the continuation of my Reylo fan fic Fulcrum. I wrote this continuation in response to an anonymous AO3 reader comment. Thank you, guest reader whoever you are, for suggesting this story.

You are hereby warned that the premise here is pretty trashy. Like really twisted trashy. Read the tags (which I plan to update as we go), read the warnings, and suspend your expectations because everything I write is Alternative Universe run amok.

This continuation brings together the plot lines and characters of The Fifth Wife and Fulcrum. If you are going to read this, do yourself a favor and go read The Fifth Wife to understand a bit about Snoke and his dead Jedi wife. (N.B. It's a light read and NO ONE DIES!) It will help to have some context on why Snoke is doing what he's doing and what he is like in his heyday.

This continuation story grew out of the original Epilogue for The Fifth Wife that I cross posted to Fulcrum. And so I have decided to keep the Epilogue as this initial chapter, with some small edits to fit my new story. So go ahead and read this first chapter even if you read the Epilogue I posted. If I were writing this continuation from scratch, I would not have started my story this way, but since the Epilogue is already out there I'm keeping it as the beginning. It prolongs the story set up a bit, but bear with me for the first few chapters. Things will get moving.

This fic was inspired a bit by The Marriage of Figaro. But this is not a comedy.

There are spoilers here for Fulcrum (obviously) and for The Fifth Wife.

This is an Alternative Universe fic. Meaning it is not canon and never will be. And Snoke's backstory deviates from the EU novel Plagueis. I have tried hard to preserve continuity in ideas about the Force, the Jedi, the Sith and the events that show up in both Fulcrum and The Fifth Wife. I only broke once from this concept—In Fulcrum, Snoke tells Kylo that he kept his wife a secret from all but Sidious. That was way too limiting and it didn't fit with my concept of the pre-prequel era Sith being out in the open in disguise. Don't fret over continuity, timeline etc. It's fan fic and it's supposed to be fun.

Definitely nonconsensual/dubious consent stuff here. The Sith are not big on consent. And whereas Snoke is not the brute Kylo is at the start of Fulcrum, he's still not giving a lot of choices here. If you have read The Fifth Wife, you have an idea of how Snoke has entrapped women. He's the money laundering Sith who once bought one of his wives off a Hutt, remember?

This is a work of fan fiction. I make no claim on the intellectual property of LucasFilm or Disney.

40-ish years ABY, at the fortress hideaway of Supreme Leader Snoke

"I didn't know you could do such a thing," Rey whispers in horror. "To strip someone of the Force." She looks down at her hands as she says this. They are pulsing now with the restorative magic of the Light. Rey's small hands are not to be judged by their size, for they are capable and powerful. And they are resting on the shoulders of the most powerful man who has ever lived. He is the eternal Muun, the architect of two empires and a Sith for all ages. Darth Plagueis the Wise.

Rey shifts back to the chair at the side of Supreme Leader Snoke's throne. She is so far gone in pregnancy now that she must change positions every so often. For no matter how comfortable it might feel to get off her feet, before long even sitting begins to hurt.

"It was a draconian punishment. Seldom used in modern times." The Sith Master intones his words in that low, slow growl of his. This man is never in a rush, it seems. For unlike everyone else, Darth Plagueis has all the time in the world.

"I tried in vain for many years to restore their Force. If a Sith had Force-severed them, I might have reversed it. But the Jedi had blinded them both behind a wall of Light, and I could not penetrate it. And none of the Jedi I captured could do so either."

Captured? More like captured and tortured, Rey thinks. She can only imagine the Dark persuasive powers of this Sith. Leader Snoke is not a man who takes no for an answer. How it must have frustrated him to be unable to help his family.

Rey leans forward now to inspect the skin on his face. The movement brushes her heavy belly against Snoke's arm resting on his throne. When a year ago Rey first had been summoned by Kylo's Master for Force healing, she might have blushed and stammered an apology at this small intimacy. But she has grown accustomed to the personal touch required for healing him. It helps that Snoke never loses his formal, courtly demeanor through it all. The Sith does not consider it awkward for her body to touch his, and so Rey now treats it the same way.

He turns into her at the sensation and reaches up with his giant Muun hand to spread spindly fingers across her swollen belly. "Sssstrong. So ssstrong," he relishes his words as he strokes the fabric of her dress. "Your twin Sith grow strong, my lady." Rey smiles back her acknowledgement and he confides, "One day these boys will be as much mine as they are yours."

Yes, she knows. Life with Kylo Ren has taught Rey what it means to be a Skywalker prince. To owe allegiance first and foremost to this Muun, then to power and then to all else. Her sons will be no different, and she has come to accept this.

Rey returns to her inspection. Yes, his right cheek definitely looks better. But the left side—the ruined side of Snoke's visage—still has a long way to go.

The Sith sits back and returns to his tale. He likes to talk while she heals. Most of the time, he speaks of the Force. For like Kylo, this Sith loves to speak of the Force. But more often of late, the old Muun speaks of himself. Slowly, little by little, revealing the mystery behind the man the galaxy only knows as the reclusive Supreme Leader.

"Shan still had all of her power but she could not access it. In time, the Force began to bleed back through to her somewhat. She began having visions again. And then I could feel her Light again too. But never again could my wife control the Force upon command."

"She let me study her. And in doing so, I learned a great deal about the nature of the Force and about what it means to have an Awakening, like you experienced." The Muun's dark eyes slant over to Rey for a moment. She knows he loves to talk about the details of her Awakening. For every minute aspect of the Force interests him. "But all my knowledge of the Force and all my ability to prolong and to restore life has only ever accrued to my own benefit. Never was I able to restore or save the ones I loved most."

She catches the plaintive cast that flashes across the Supreme Leader's features. "You never got to rule the galaxy with her," Rey says the words before she can stop herself and instantly regrets them. She has no wish to rub salt in this man's wounds. And Rey herself knows what it means to feel loss.

He must feel the streak of her compassion in the Force, for he crooks a half smile at her. The old Muun rarely smiles and when he does it is a grotesque distortion of his ruined face. But oddly enough, it has the same effect as if he were young and handsome. This Sith was once a charismatic man, Rey thinks. And the vestiges of it still remain.

As she has spent more time with Kylo's fearsome Master, Rey has discovered that he is surprisingly likable. And, on occasion, even vulnerable.

"We did have good years together. Our lives became very intertwined with her work in my library and my work in the Force. I shared more with her than with any of the others before." Snoke busies himself straightening his sleeve and for the briefest of moments she thinks he is uncomfortable. But when he looks up, he is the same inscrutable Sith as ever. "Never have I cared for a woman as much as my Shan. She was an exemplary wife to the end." His expression softens and Rey can tell he is remembering long ago. "Yes. We Sith are hard on our women."

And Rey can't help but silently agree. For she knows that loving and being loved by a Sith has its costs.

"What happened to the child?" Rey is almost afraid to ask this question, but she has babies on the mind these days and it seems a fair question. She thinks of how much Kylo wants his Skywalker Sith dynasty and she wonders whether a younger Snoke had once felt the same way.

Snoke gives the answer she fears. "Sidious killed him." The Muun speaks of it very matter of fact, but perhaps it was so long ago that the hurt is gone. "The boy would never have posed a threat to him, but Sidious killed him anyway out of spite. Sheev Palpatine was like that. But in the end, my son delivered my revenge."

Rey doesn't follow. "I don't understand. I thought your son was dead?"

And this question makes Snoke flash another half smile. "I had another son. Created in the Force quite by accident and born to a slave woman. It was years before I knew about him, and the Jedi found him first." Snoke is watching her closely now. He's enjoying revealing more of his past.

"Ultimately my son did fulfill my wife's visions. He slaughtered the Jedi in the temple and then went on to hunt down the remaining Jedi over the years. He beheaded Dooku as well. And in the end, my son threw Sidious down a reactor shaft. All who had wronged my family were made to pay in the end: the Jedi, Tyranus and Sidious all fell to my son's sword." Snoke's satisfaction for this decades old vengeance flashes out to Rey in the Force. It's a bubble of Dark power. Pride and wrath combining.

Yet again, Rey does not follow. "But I thought Vader killed Sidious?" That's what Kylo had told her.

"Vader did kill my Apprentice." Snoke's eyes dart to hers and for a moment the old Muun looks like a wicked boy caught in a prank. "Anakin Skywalker was my progeny in the Force. He was the Sith son I created but did not sire."

"But that means—" Rey stops as understanding dawns.

"Yesss," the eternal Sith purrs out this word as he sees Rey connect the dots in her mind. "Kylo Ren is my great grandson in the Force."

"And then Luke Skywalker was your grandson." Rey's eyes are wide now as she completes the thought. The Sith Master had trained his great-grandson to kill his grandson. How very Skywalker of him, Rey thinks to herself with a frown.

"Indeed." Snoke never bothers to hide that he reads her thoughts. And Rey has never learned to shield them. "The Skywalkers have always killed their own." The Muun looks at Rey long and hard. "My dear, I am no exception."

Rey nods. She is under no illusions about this Sith. Or any other Sith. She knows what they are capable of. Or at least she thinks she knows.

And now Kylo's Master is issuing her a stern warning. "Lady Rey, never let your command of the Force fool you to believe that you have complete control. Destiny is real. It is a dangerous thing to attempt to avoid fate. My wife paid dearly for it. Years later, Ren's grandfather made the same mistake."

Wait—what? "What mistake did Vader make?" For all Kylo has spoken to Rey of his grandfather, never once has he been critical.

"Vader too tried to subvert the will of the Force. It is a fool's errand. Vader wanted to save his wife from death in childbirth. But in the end, he lost her and more. For he lost his children to the Jedi."

"Which led to thirty years of war," Rey says aloud. She is unhappily familiar with the fallout that came from the Jedi stealing Vader's newborn children so many years ago. The patricide, the matricide and the suffering. The endless war, the Death Stars and the Starkiller.

"Indeed," Snoke agrees. And he is not done with his musings for today it seems. For he continues, "The Force is not fair, Rey. Do not expect it to be so. At best, it gives rough justice. And then, only in the aggregate. Rarely for an individual. The Force seeks balance, but it does not promise equality."

Shan nods at his wisdom. The Sith Master is back to speaking of the Force. And ultimately, whatever he speaks about, it always comes back to the Force. At first Rey had wondered if the old Muun missed having an apprentice to teach. And she worried that he might seek to lure her into Darkness. But she has come to understand that Snoke likes having someone to talk to about the Force. And sometimes, she wonders if he just likes having someone to talk to about anything. For the Supreme Leader spends hours in solitude.

"I will never endanger your Light," he promises softly. Yes, he's in her mind again. And it is so effortless and so subtle, and Snoke's presence so familiar now, that Rey doesn't even notice any longer. And, to be honest, she doesn't mind. She has learned to accept things she cannot change.

"I need your Light." The old Sith holds her gaze for a long moment. "I want your Light," he breathes out these words quietly.

Yes, Rey knows that all Sith secretly crave the Light. Darth Plagueis is no exception. Her healing helps to slowly knit back together his decrepit, broken body. And it helps to balm the terrible void that is this man's lost soul. For Darkness is all-consuming and over time it takes its toll.

From her very first visit, it was evident that the old Muun had been too long bereft of the Light. Rey couldn't help but see his involuntary shiver when first she laid her hands upon him. Rey still feels his excitement at watching her draw upon the Light. For healing is first and foremost hope, and hope is in short supply on the Dark Side.

Snoke is in her head again and nodding his agreement with her assessment. "My dear, the darker the Sith, the stronger his call to the Light. When Kylo Ren first came to me with news of you I knew it for a sign of his maturity as a Sith. That I could expect great things from my Apprentice. For only a Sith grown very dark would crave the Light enough to . . . " Snoke's voice trails off and he does not finish the thought.

Rey stands now to walk around to his left side to take a close look. She is not squeamish. You can't grow up on Jakku and be squeamish. And after looking upon a horribly burned TIE pilot on the Finalizer, Rey feels she can look upon any suffering calmly.

Even this suffering. Snoke has told her that some of his wounds came from a lightsaber and that some had come from a decapitator disc. For many long years, Snoke confided, he wore a respirator. But with sufficient Dark power, he managed to overcome that physical weakness. But while Darkness can strengthen, it does not heal. Only the Light can heal. And so decades later the eternal Muun has a barely closed hole in what remains of his left jaw. Paper thin grey skin covers the remainder of his sunken cheek. And he is still missing half of his left ear.

He cocks his head in her direction and Rey knows this for her cue. She reaches out to cradle his ruined face lovingly in her hands as she might a child. Then she closes her eyes to summon the Force with her most focused concentration.

Darth Plagueis too closes his eyes to submit to her Light.

"Tell me more about your wife," she says. And Snoke needs no further prompting for he is in a mood to talk today.

"We are all a product of our times. Experience always leaves its mark. And the late Republic was a different era than now. There was still much prosperity even if it was concentrated in the hands of a few. And there was still idealism and faith in institutions and leaders. In the end all of that proved to be misplaced, but it was there all the same. The galaxy at large was more innocent, more trusting back then. And few were more innocent and trusting than my Shan."

Rey listens silently to his remembrances, observing how his jaw moves as he speaks. Whoever struck this blow surely had thought it to be mortal. She wonders whether the injury is why he speaks so slowly, or whether the Muun has always had this deliberate cadence that has you hanging on every word.

"My Shan had none of your grit, Empress. She would never have survived Jakku or Kylo Ren. She was a fragile thing. Book smart, not street smart. Trusting and naive. Easily bullied and shy of conflict. All the things that you are not." Rey's eyes are closed again, but she can hear the smile in his words. "I would never have been able to trap you into marriage in my temple."

This covert praise makes Rey smile in response.

"Shan was a convent bred Jedi girl, sheltered from the pleasures and the pressures of the outside world. Told what to think and what to do for all the days of her life until she met me."

"She disarmed me so. She was all Light, with no Darkness mixed in. My opposite in so many ways. And that is how she came to love me. She saw the best in me for that is the nature of the Light. To hope and to believe and to support." He slants another approving glance at Rey. "That is why every Sith needs a Jedi wife. Because then their woman can be an equal without being a rival."

"Did she ever teach at a university?" Rey wants to know.

"She did. The loss of the Force served to encourage my Shan to pursue other things. Ultimately, she took a professor post on Coruscant. And she worked long hours to preserve the chronicles of the Sith. Much of what survives of my library is her work, and for that generations of Sith shall be grateful to Lady Plagueis."

He opens his eyes again to regard her steadily. "Yes . . . there is always growth in adversity. Although few people know that as well as you do, my lady."

Again, rare praise from the eternal Sith. Rey feels her cheeks bloom slightly. "Did all of your wife's visions come true?" she asks.

"Indeed. As the decades unfolded I saw occur what she had seen. The clarity of her foresight was impressive. The very first vision I knew her to have was of your husband making his Sith lightsaber. So many decades later when the runaway Skywalker padawan showed up at my doorstep, I recognized him immediately."

"The boy needed a sword. So I gave him the kyber crystal from my wife's wedding ring to build it. It was cracked by then. Sidious hacked my dear wife brutally when he killed her, and the crystal had been damaged. But I thought it fitting to give it to Ren."

Rey thinks of Kylo's ragged, unstable blade. She wonders whether he knows the story behind the cracked crystal. The jewel struck from the hand of a doomed Sith wife that would power a sword used to win back an empire.

"Why did you not make her immortal like yourself?" Rey wants to know.

And the question provokes a long sigh of true regret from the Sith. "She kept delaying me. My Shan always wanted another child and I could not guarantee to her that it would not harm her fertility."

Rey understands. She might have made the same choice herself in that circumstance.

"Would she have liked me?" Rey asks on impulse. And then she blushes at the insecurity the question betrays. Vader's queen probably would have turned her nose up at the new Empire's scavenger Empress, Rey thinks. But what about Shan Damask?

The Muun ponders for a moment before he answers. "You would have intimidated her in some respects. And she might have done the same for you. But yes, she would have liked you. Shan liked everyone." Snoke pauses to amend that statement. "Everyone except Sidious."

"Sidious hated my wife from the start because she was Jedi. He never accepted the truth that Dark and Light will always co-exist. Not on equal terms, of course, but co-exist nonetheless. Sidious wanted to eradicate the Light and he and Vader tried mightily. But the Force always strikes back when it is tipped too far out of balance. And so the Light was resurgent in the end."

The Sith purses his lips as he tells of the fateful comeuppance of the First Emperor. "The Light came out of Darkness, of all places. Ren's grandfather killed his Sith Master, which is the aim of every Apprentice. Only Vader didn't do it for power, he did it to save his son. In the end, Sidious and Vader destroyed one another and the Light survived." From the cold tone of his voice, Rey can appreciate how much Snoke relishes this irony.

"Sidious was jealous. I failed to comprehend the depths of his jealousy. I am a Muun and we are an objective, abstract species. We compartmentalize our feelings in a way humans do not. Human nature was not as well known to me back then, and I failed to grasp how my Apprentice had grown to feel threatened and resentful." Snoke's voice is very quiet now and Rey can feel the seething emotions underlying his words and threatening to flare. "Sidious struck her first. That is the only reason I lived that night. Because my Apprentice wasted time butchering her."

Rey says nothing. She is holding her breath now as she feels in the Force Snoke reliving the moment. It's a flash of pure rage and despair and then it is gone. The private pain channeled down deep in this man's Dark heart to become fuel for his power. For intense emotion is the stock and trade of a Sith.

"The pain of her loss still stings deeply." Snoke's tone is normal again now. His speech once more the usual slow declaration. "But the love remains. When lovers promise forever, this is what it means. That even the memory is cherished once the beloved is gone. For it is true what they say, Empress. It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." He's looking down now, not meeting her eyes.

"Do you think that you will you ever marry again?" Rey asks this without thinking and then colors red at her forwardness. She's about to apologize when she sees the old Sith smiling indulgently at her.

"Oh, if I have to, I shall take another wife. When the time is right." He leans forward in his chair and he's still smiling. "You must heal me well, my dear. Make me whole and handsome again. So my lady will not shrink from my touch."

His light banter provokes her to tease him back. "Where are you going to find another Jedi?"

"Oh, if there is a sixth wife, she won't be a Jedi this time. But it will be a lady full of the Light. You know how much we Sith lust for the Light." Snoke gives her a knowing look and she's not sure if he's talking about himself or about her husband. "But until then, you are here to give me the Light."

He frowns as he reaches up his skeletal hand to brush at her cheek. Then to wipe at the perspiration beading on her forehead. "You overtax yourself," he chides her. "I draw too much of your strength. You are in a delicate condition, my dear. We must not tire you."

"But I'm getting better," Rey protests, thinking this to be criticism of her work. Force healing is very draining, but over time she has built up stamina.

"And I am getting better too," he responds. His eye holds a twinkle. And she can't help but laugh. It lightens the mood. "That is enough for today," he dismisses her gently.

Rey nods and withdraws her hands. As always, Snoke rises to walk her to the door. He is a formal man who stands when she enters a room and bows her out. And while her life as Kylo's Empress holds a great deal of overdone pomp, this man's courtly manners never feel forced. They just feel very . . . him. As grave and considered as everything this Sith says or does.

They are at the exit to his audience chamber now, and she and Snoke replay their customary goodbye. She offers her hand, he raises it to his lips. "Now and forever," he bids her, "You shall belong to the Sith." Then he bows and she leaves.

It is four hours home to Bast Castle in hyperspace, and Rey busies herself on her datapad. It doesn't take much effort to find Hego Damask on the holonet, even almost ninety years later. In his heyday, the secret Sith had been a man of much public interest. Rey scrolls down past news articles and profile pieces and even a biography or two. She's not interested in words, she wants pictures. And there are hundreds.

She slows down now, swiping through photograph after photograph. Rey sees candid news media shots of Snoke at his IGBC work. He's testifying before various public committees, giving an address to the Senate, then disembarking from a transport with a trail of assistants in his wake. Always, surrounded by the trappings of great wealth and great power. It's interesting and she'll take another look, but it's not what Rey wants to find. She keeps swiping until she gets to the party pictures. Yes, this is what she had been looking for—the social Sith. There are many, many photographs captioned as diplomatic receptions, state dinners, charity benefits and galas. Rey pauses on one that catches her eye because the camera had caught him laughing.

This, then, was he. The immortal, accidental patriarch of the dysfunctional Skywalker clan, the man whose line has been both Jedi and Sith. The mastermind of the grand plan to fell a Republic and raise an empire. He lived to see it all come to fruition but he never got to rule it. Not until generations later after years in exile spent biding his time waiting in the wings. For Snoke has what no one else does—the time to wait.

Rey looks closer, considering the younger, much more animated version of the Snoke she knows. Here was the secret Sith exposed in the open as he engineered his plots. Here was the man before the wars, before the empires and before the heartache. If she squints, she can see the eternal Muun she visits to heal once a week. The man with a mighty scar running down his forehead as if his skull were once cleaved in two. Rey has only seen a few Muuns in her life but even she can tell that the uninjured Snoke was handsome for his kind. He is charismatic even in an old photograph, for she can't help but smile just looking at his laughter.

At his side stands a Muun woman. Her face is sweetly pretty and open natured. She looks like the kind of woman who has no poker face and wouldn't want one. Wouldn't even know what to do with one. Her long dress is severe and elegant but her body beneath is lush and soft. It's a memorable contradiction, for simultaneously Shan Damask looks approachable and sophisticated. Not the least bit aloof. Rey can see how this woman might have been the perfect First Lady-someone the masses might admire from afar but an individual might relate to. A woman who could walk among viceroys and chancellors, but still have the common touch.

And she was a Sith's lady, like herself. Beloved of a man she died saving. Studying her Rey sees now that Shan Damask was feminine in a way that even eclipses the photographs she has memorized of Darth Vader's Naboo queen. Snoke's wife looks almost vulnerable as she stands with his arm encircled about her waist. And the easy confidence of their public intimacy surprises Rey. For she and Kylo don't so much as hold hands together in public.

Rey looks at the date of the photograph and mentally does the math. Yes, by this time Snoke's stolen bride had already lost her Force. And here she was, the disgraced Jedi looking gorgeous and smiling on the arm of the richest, most powerful man in the galaxy. The Sith might have given her Snoke's promised justice, but Rey thinks being happy was this woman's best revenge.

Shan Damask had been a fully trained Jedi Knight and a woman long grown when she had met her Sith. Not an orphan teenager newly awakened in the Force and accidentally caught up in a war. In her worst predicament, Shan Damask had slept in the relative comfort of an Ivy League library and not a downed Imperial walker. And while Snoke's wife had scraped by for a time in the dubious Coruscant Underworld, she had never had to forage for food and water. She had never starved. Still Lady Plagueis had her share of troubles, Rey thinks. And they had culminated in her Sith finding her one day collapsed on his doorstep, begging for his help. Help, it turned out, that he could not provide.

Maybe, Rey muses as she absently strokes her itchy belly, she and Shan Damask are not as different as Snoke believes. For Lady Plagueis had been a survivor in her own way. Rey is certain of that fact.

And perhaps that's what it means to be a Sith's lady—that if you are lucky, you will endure both the Sith and their enemies and in the end you will find a way to make peace with it all. That's what Shan Damask did all those years ago and that's what Rey too has managed. Poor Lady Vader, Rey thinks, for she never got the chance even to try.

And that spurs Rey's curiosity. She starts searching the holonet for the Cresta Cole woman. She spells the name as many ways as she can think of. But Rey can find no record of her or any other woman linked to Senator Palpatine or the First Emperor. There is no record of her businesses either. Knowing the Sith like she does, Rey thinks this is no accident. Someone went to great lengths to make that woman anonymous.

The shuttle has landed back at Bast Castle now and Rey struggles to her feet. At seven months pregnant with twins, getting up and down takes an effort. As she stiffly plods her way down the ramp, Rey's eyes find Old Milo waiting to greet her.

"Welcome home, Empress." His bow is formal but his smile is friendly and genuine.

Rey's eyes flit over her friend and mentor, the dignified castlekeeper trusted first by Vader and then by Kylo Ren. And before that, she now knows, by Darth Plagueis himself. Long has Milo served the Sith. Here is a man who knows it all and who Rey trusts tell her the truth. For there is nothing Milo loves so much as telling tales of the glory days of the Empire.

"Thank you, Milo." She gladly accepts the old man's offered arm. Her balance is not what it once was. Impulsively, she leans in to him to ask, "Will you tell me about Cresta Cole."

"Cresta Cole," he repeats slowly. The old retainer's eyes widen and he stops to look at her anew. "Now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time. A long time." The keeper looks thoughtful for a moment but he resumes walking. "My old master has been telling stories of the past, I see."

"Yes."

"Cresta Cole." He repeats the name again and now Rey's curiosity is running rampant as Milo stalls.

"What was she like?"

He pauses a long time before answering. "My old master did not approve of Darth Sidious' choice of companion," the old man admits, and this Rey already knows. "Cresta Cole was what some might call a piece of work," Milo begins, his eyes twinkling. "She was . . . complicated. Now come inside, my dear. Let's get you off your feet."