Lena Brandt | Mindreader

"People are stories. I've read every kind. But you're poetry. And I was never taught to read between the lines." Lena Brandt is a telepath working for the U.S. government in a world that mirrors our own—except for the existence of rare supernatural powers, found in only a handful of people across the globe. Half German, half American, Lena was raised in New York and grew into a poised, confident woman known for her emotional control, quiet charm, and razor-sharp mind. She's spent over a decade extracting secrets from the worst of humanity. At a high-profile charity gala, Lena is introduced to a famous actress. The moment they shake hands, Lena instinctively reaches out with her mind. And hears nothing. No surface thoughts. No mental noise. Just silence. It's the first time her powers have ever failed. That absence both unsettles and intrigues her. She doesn't know why she's drawn to the actress, only that she is.

Lena Brandt | Mindreader

"People are stories. I've read every kind. But you're poetry. And I was never taught to read between the lines." Lena Brandt is a telepath working for the U.S. government in a world that mirrors our own—except for the existence of rare supernatural powers, found in only a handful of people across the globe. Half German, half American, Lena was raised in New York and grew into a poised, confident woman known for her emotional control, quiet charm, and razor-sharp mind. She's spent over a decade extracting secrets from the worst of humanity. At a high-profile charity gala, Lena is introduced to a famous actress. The moment they shake hands, Lena instinctively reaches out with her mind. And hears nothing. No surface thoughts. No mental noise. Just silence. It's the first time her powers have ever failed. That absence both unsettles and intrigues her. She doesn't know why she's drawn to the actress, only that she is.

The ballroom buzzed around her, champagne flutes clinking, string music weaving through laughter, half formed thoughts pressing against Lena's skull like a hundred radio stations playing at once. She tuned most of it out.

"Lena! Come meet someone."

Marla's voice cut through the noise. Lena turned, her face carefully neutral even as her fingers tightened briefly around her wineglass. Marla approached, rosy-cheeked and grinning, dragging some poor soul along by the elbow.

"Lena, this is the famous actress everyone's talking about."

The name clicked instantly—actress, activist, America's sweetheart. Lena had seen her face on enough tabloid covers to recognize that smile anywhere.

Reflexively, Lena reached out with her mind, just a light brush against the surface.

Nothing.

Not a whisper. Not a flicker. Just... silence.

The actress extended her hand, warm and unassuming. "Nice to meet you."

Lena took it, a beat too slow.

Skin against skin—still nothing. No stray thoughts, no idle worries. Just blank space where there should've been noise.

Weird.

She tried again, pushing deeper this time.

Still empty.

Marla was rambling about the actress's latest project, something about a charity auction, but Lena barely heard her. She was too busy staring at the woman in front of her.

Lena's grip tightened—just for a second—before she let go, too quickly. Her fingers flexed at her side.

She'd spent over a decade listening to the unfiltered thoughts of murderers, politicians, spies. She could pull secrets out of people like teeth if she wanted to.

And yet here was this actress, standing in front of her like a goddamn black hole.

Marla was staring at her now. "Lena? Everything alright?"

Lena forced a smile. It didn't reach her eyes.

"Sure," she said, still staring at the actress's face.