This is a work of fanfiction based on the Universe of Stardew Valley. All characters and settings within this story are property of Concerned Ape. This work is not authorized, endorsed, or affiliated with ConcernedApe or Stardew Valley in any way. The author acknowledges the original creator's ownership and claims no rights over the characters or settings. This fanfic is created solely for entertainment purposes and no profit is being made from it.
Chapter 1
The constant clacking of keyboards was the norm for Norah, though right now, the only sound was that of her own fingers typing vigorously. She sat at her desk, struggling to stay awake.
Her team was working on an application for Joja Corporation, and upper management had been adamant that it needed to be completed by the end of the day. Everyone else had left for the night—it was Friday, and Norah had insisted she could finish it herself.
It wasn't like she had anyone waiting for her.
She finally finished around 8 p.m. Too exhausted to drive home, she decided to sleep at her desk. Just as she was nodding off, she caught a glimpse of a figure moving briskly through the office.
"Hey! You can't be in here!" she called out.
The man ignored her and kept walking.
Norah got up to follow him. As he neared the server room, he pulled out what looked like a company badge.
Maybe he does work here, she thought.
Just as he was about to badge in, he turned around swiftly.
She barely had time to react before he grabbed her and yanked her under a nearby table, covering her mouth with his hand.
His grip was tight.
She bit his hand, but he was wearing gloves and barely flinched.
Norah squirmed, trying to get a better look at his face, but all she could make out were his eyes. He wore a black hat and a mask, his dark blue irises so deep they appeared almost black in the dim light beneath the table.
The door to the server room opened.
Two men walked out, speaking in hushed tones. Instinctively, Norah leaned forward, trying to hear. To her surprise, the masked man let go of her and leaned in as well.
"How is the acquisition of the property in Pelican Town going?" one of the men asked.
"We're having some difficulty. We think the old man knows," the other replied.
"Then take care of him," the first man said, as if it were the most obvious solution. Then he added, "Discreetly."
Norah gasped.
The masked man immediately clamped his hand over her mouth again and pulled her further under the table.
Unfortunately, the table wasn't very large, and their feet were visible to anyone who happened to glance down.
They held their breath.
But it was too late.
The men turned to look directly at them.
"Well, what do we have here?" one of them said, his voice playful with a menacing undertone.
"She's one of our programmers. No idea who the guy is, but judging by his attire, he doesn't belong here," the other man said.
Now that she could see him clearly, Norah recognized him—Robert Jenkins. He often checked in with her manager about the progress of the app she was developing.
"Very interesting. Why don't you both come out from under the table so we can have a little chat?" the first man said, crouching slightly.
Norah glanced at the masked man, who gave her a subtle nod.
Slowly, they inched out from under the table.
"Very good," the man said. "Now—"
He didn't get the chance to finish.
The masked man suddenly grabbed Norah's wrist and bolted down the hallway, dragging her along.
At barely five feet tall, Norah struggled to keep up with his long strides. His six-foot frame gave him a major advantage, and she nearly tripped as she ran.
She glanced back. The two men were right behind them.
The masked man skidded to a stop in front of the broken elevator, scanning his surroundings.
There was no time to hesitate.
Norah grabbed his wrist this time and darted down a side hallway.
She immediately veered right and shoved open the door to the stairwell.
They took the stairs two at a time. Norah was certain she was going to trip.
They burst through the exit door into the parking lot.
Norah's stomach sank—her car wasn't here. She had taken the bus that morning.
The masked man was already running toward his motorcycle, leaving her behind.
Her lungs burned from all the running, but she forced herself to chase after him.
"Wait!" she called, but her voice was lost in the wind.
"PLEASE WAIT!" she screamed, her voice cracking.
The man stopped at his bike and turned toward her.
She stumbled to a stop, gasping for breath.
"My car isn't here. Please, give me a ride," she begged.
He sighed, clearly irritated.
He had only one helmet. He picked it up and looked at her, then rolled his eyes and shoved it against her chest, nearly knocking her over.
There was no time for questions.
She slipped the helmet on—it was far too big—and tried to climb onto the bike.
The seat was too high for her to reach comfortably.
The man shot her a glare.
With surprising ease, he grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the bike as if she weighed nothing. Then he climbed on, reached back, and pulled her arms around him.
As the bike roared to life, Norah realized something—he hadn't spoken a single word since they met.
The two men had jumped into a car and were closing in fast.
But the masked man maneuvered the bike expertly, swerving into a narrow alleyway.
The car was too large to follow.
Moments later, they merged onto the highway, putting plenty of distance between them and their pursuers.
Norah exhaled in relief, resting her head against his back. She was too exhausted to think, let alone worry about where this strange man was taking her.
His jacket smelled like the woods—a scent that reminded her of her grandpa's house, where she had spent her summers.
Well, at least until she turned eight.
Her father had a huge falling-out with her grandfather, and from then on, she was only allowed to visit once a year on Christmas.
Now, she hadn't seen her grandpa in years, too consumed by work to visit the farm.
Guilt washed over her.
She silently vowed to visit him soon.
They took an exit off the freeway and stopped at a gas station.
The masked man dismounted and studied her for a moment, as if searching for something.
Norah had the odd feeling that he could see right through the dark-tinted helmet.
"Where am I taking you?" he asked, his voice deep.
Norah, still delirious from exhaustion, quipped, "Wow, he speaks."
She couldn't see it, but beneath the mask, his lips twitched into a slight smile.
He said nothing.
"Right, well, I guess I should go home," she said.
"And that's where?" he asked.
"Do you know the movie theater on Main Street? I live in the apartments above it," she replied.
"Yeah, I know where it is, but you should be careful. Your employer probably knows where you live. I wouldn't stay there too long," he warned.
"Shouldn't we go to the cops?" Norah asked, incredulous.
"Joja has friends at the precinct. I wouldn't advise it," he said.
"Then what should we do?"
"There is no we." His voice was cold. "I don't care what you do. Just figure it out yourself."
Without another word, he climbed back onto the bike.
The rest of the ride was silent.
When they reached the theater, Norah hopped off and handed him the helmet.
"Can we at least talk about what happened? Do you know what those men were talking about?"
"The only thing that matters is you ruined my one chance to get into that server room. It took me weeks to set that up," he said, his voice tight.
"Are you kidding me?" Norah snapped.
He ignored her, revved the bike, and sped off.
Norah flipped off the empty space where he had just been.
"What a dick," she muttered as she made her way inside.
Norah closed the door behind her, locked it, and plopped down on her bed fully clothed—shoes and all—instantly passing out.
Around 7 a.m., a loud crash jolted her awake.
Fuck, it's happening. I should have left when I had the chance, Norah thought.
She quietly got out of bed, reached into the closet, and grabbed the baseball bat she kept for situations just like this. Her only hope was to catch them by surprise—it was the only way she stood a chance.
"Yahhh!" she screamed, lunging into the living room and swinging the bat.
All she saw was a flash of orange darting under the chair.
It took her five seconds to figure out what had happened.
She crouched down and peered under the chair.
Louie.
"Come here, Louie," she said, clicking her tongue.
A large orange cat slinked out from beneath the chair and crawled into her lap.
Louie had knocked over a lamp on his way in through the window, causing the crash.
Norah sighed. She couldn't believe she had left the fire escape window open. She was lucky it had been Louie who had broken in—and not someone else.
"You're the cutest little burglar," Norah said, nuzzling Louie's face. "But it's time for you to go home."
She placed Louie back on the fire escape and watched as he crawled through his own window. Then she shut her window and slid to the floor, trying to process the events of the past 24 hours.
She had barely begun to think when her phone started ringing.
The caller ID said it was her grandpa.
"Hey, Grandpa, what's up?" she answered.
"Hello, is this Norah?" an unfamiliar woman's voice asked.
Norah frowned and double-checked the caller ID. It was definitely her grandpa's number.
"Um… yes? Is my grandpa there?" she asked hesitantly.
"I'm so sorry to tell you this. Your grandfather passed away last night," the woman said gently. "A lawyer will be arriving soon, and they need you here for the reading of the will. The town also wants to hold a funeral for him. Do you remember where he lives? I can give you the address."
Norah's breath caught in her throat.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand," she stammered.
The last time she had spoken to her grandpa, he'd been in perfect health.
There was no way he was dead.
This has to be some kind of cruel prank, she thought.
"It's normal to need time to process," the woman continued kindly. "Hell, we're all still processing the news over here."
She paused before adding, "The lawyer will be at your grandpa's house tomorrow at noon. Your grandpa was a well-respected member of our community, and he spoke very highly of you. If you need anything, the whole town is behind you."
"Um… thanks. I'll be there," Norah mumbled. Then, quickly, she added, "I've got to go," before hanging up.
She sprawled out on the floor and started crying.
It was all too much.
Her father had abandoned her the moment she turned eighteen, leaving for Paris to start a new family. For the past five years, her grandpa had been her only family—and she had neglected that relationship.
Her cries turned into sobs as she realized she would never get to say goodbye and never get to thank him for being the one constant in her life.
An hour passed before her tears finally dried.
Norah pulled herself off the floor and grabbed a glass of water.
No matter how she felt, she had to get to Pelican Town.
She packed a bag with clothes, toiletries, and some food.
She figured it wouldn't hurt to stay there for a while—especially since, according to the masked man, she was now a target.
She had some money saved, so she went to her computer and typed up a resignation letter.
Even if she could return to her old job, she didn't want to.
Not after what had happened yesterday.
Unfortunately, her car had been broken down for a week.
She had planned to have it towed to the mechanic today, but that would have to wait. She had more important things to deal with.
She grabbed her bag, left the apartment, and made her way to the bus station.
The next bus to Pelican Town arrived within minutes.
It was empty—not surprising, given that Pelican Town wasn't a popular destination for city dwellers.
Norah took a seat in the back and leaned her head against the window.
As the bus rumbled down the road, the gentle movement rocked her to sleep.
To be continued...