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The Jones family had always been close to The Hargreeves. It was a bond forged long before Nova was born, rooted in her father William's odd but steady friendship with the Hargreeves patriarch, Reginald. William and Reginald's connection had its complexities, yet the friendship endured, opening doors for Nova to find a family of her own within the Hargreeves. Vanya and Klaus, in particular, became like siblings to her, an unbreakable trio held together through life's hardships.

The day her father's voice broke that closeness open again, it was sudden, almost ungraspable. Reginald Hargreeves was dead.

"Nova!" William's voice echoed up the stairs, laced with urgency and loss. "You should go check on the Hargreeves. Reginald passed away—heart failure." His words lingered, carrying the weight of their long-held ties, and Nova felt the sadness settle over her, heavy but expected. At twenty-eight, she still lived with her father, a decision shaped by love more than necessity, and William wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Dad, everyone's moved on with their lives—Luther's up on the moon, Diego's playing vigilante and janitor, Allison's a movie star, Klaus... well, he's in rehab again. Five's gone, Ben's dead, and Vanya—" Nova paused, her voice softening. Truthfully, she wasn't sure what Vanya did anymore.

The only thing she knew was that Vanya had written a book about their family, a memoir that had dredged up more pain than healing.

None of them were happy about it, and Nova couldn't blame them.

"Fine. I'll go check on them, I guess," Nova muttered, her voice laced with reluctant acceptance as she grabbed her worn leather jacket off the chair. She shrugged it on over her flannel, the familiar weight grounding her. With a quick pat to her pocket, she made sure her pack of smokes was there—a small comfort, even if she wasn't sure she'd actually light one.

"Be careful, kiddo," William called after her, his tone soft but steady.

Nova just nodded, slipping out the door and into the cool air.

And that's how Nova found herself standing at the doorstep of the Hargreeves estate. The place loomed just as cold and imposing as she remembered, even more so under the weight of Reginald's absence.

She took a deep breath, her fist poised in mid-air, hovering over the door.

Nova finally knocked, the sound echoing in the silence, and stepped back, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. She shifted her weight, nerves creeping in as she waited for any sign of movement from inside. After a few long moments, she heard the faint shuffle of footsteps approaching.

The door creaked open, and there stood Grace, her familiar warm smile and unchanging elegance somehow soothing in the hollow silence of the mansion. Her eyes softened as she took in Nova.

"Nova," Grace greeted gently, as if Nova had only been gone a day. "It's so lovely to see you again. Come in, dear."

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