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“Tyr, please stay in your chair and eat.  He’s got to eat, right?”

“He’s not an eternal warrior of Ai, so yeah,” Ripley said.  “You said you’d help me with picking out clothes?”

“I’m kinda- Tyr, please.”

“I’m going to get dressed!” Tyr declared.

“Tyr, come on. Sit.”

“I’ll be fast!”

It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept.  She’d rattled her nerves too much last night to also be on her last nerve now.

“Tyr!  Challenge!” Ripley called out.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Don’t delay him.”

“Dressed fast, eat fast, then get your school things!  We’ll put it on the board!”

He sprinted off.

“It helps to think of him as a boulder rolling downhill when he gets like this,” Ripley said.  “Nudge him to change directions when you have to, but don’t try to stop it.”

Valentina winced.  She wasn’t sure that was good.  “Is that how your parents do it?”

“Only sometimes.  When he was little they’d say things like ‘it’s okay so long as he’s eating something’.  Sometimes you gotta focus on getting to tomorrow.”

“Is that an old man type wisdom?” Valentina asked.

Ripley smiled, hugged Valentina as she passed by, then headed to her room.

It was hard to shake a general sick feeling.  She wanted to peek out the window, but what if she did and one of her father’s people was there?

She followed Ripley, checked on Tyr, who nearly barreled into her on his way to go finish breakfast, and checked out Ripley’s closet.  They settled on a pair of black denim overalls with wide straps, and a short-sleeved shirt.  She did her best to pull Ripley’s hair back into a low ponytail -so much easier than Valentina’s own hair- while Ripley got socks on.

“Are you timing me!?” Tyr hollered.

“Yes!  It’s on the microwave!” Ripley called back.  The volume of her voice made Valentina’s vision rattle.

It’s like I’m a single mom all of a sudden, on top of having dad’s organization coming after me.  I have zero kid experience.

I don’t know when or if this ever ends.  What if they never come back?  Or if they come back too hurt to handle their own kids?  Do I leave?  Can I?

“Low ponytail, classic look, works for guys and girls,” Valentina said.  “Clothes are good for now, we’ll shop later.”

“Thank you,” Ripley said.  She looked at Valentina in the mirror by her door, rather than twist around.  She tugged her other sock on.

“I need you to sign things!” Tyr shouted.

“Volume down, Tyr,” Valentina told him.

“I need you to sign things,” Tyr said, at the door.

“I’m not sure I can.  I’ll write a note.”

“What about shoes?” Ripley asked.

“I- those are good,” she said, as Ripley pulled out a pair from her closet.  “One second.”

“Pleasssse,” Tyr begged, holding up a paper.  He danced on the spot like he needed to pee.

“Go use the washroom before the day starts.  I’m- give me a second.”

Tyr entered the bathroom, hurling the door shut- a washcloth on the floor meant it didn’t close, so he was just going to go with the door open.  Too young to really care.

“These?” Ripley asked.

Valentina closed the bathroom door before Tyr was indecent.  “Sure.  You have your school stuff?”

“All set, I handle stuff the night before.  You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Organized like your mom, huh?  Okay, give me a second.”

“We should go before too long.”

“I know, figuring that out.  Just let me-”

Tyr came out of the bathroom.  A clear dribble of moisture dotted the outside of one pants leg.

“Wash your hands, change your pants.  I don’t want to get in trouble if you smell like pee right after going to school,” Valentina said.

“This counts against your record, by the way,” Ripley said.

“No!” he protested.  “That’s not part of it!”

Not helpful.

“Go, get-”

“No!” he protested, louder.

“Just- go,” she said, raising her voice a little.  “And give me a second.  I’ll sign your paper, okay?  Deal?”

He made a whining sound.

Valentina entered Mia’s office, closed the door, and locked it.  Tyr was being loud in the background, complaining to Ripley now.

“Don’t touch me before you wash your hands!” Ripley cried out, down the hall, voice rising.

Back to the door, Valentina shut her eyes.  Her hands held the paper, and trembled.  They might have even trembled if she didn’t have the kids as a focus.  Or if she didn’t have to worry about her dad strolling into the house again.

But the two together…

She could have spent five minutes there, door shut, eyes closed, trying to ignore the rest of the world.  She could have spent thirty.

Hell, she could go to her room, close the door, pull the covers over her head, and sleep until it was dark.

She made herself move.  Desk.  Pen.

She read over the paper.  Permission for a field trip.  She considered the note.

I am the temporary guardian and cousin of Tyr Hurst.  Mia and Carson didn’t have a chance to sign this before they had some urgent family business, but I was there for the meal where it was discussed and permission was verbally given.  If you can’t reach her to confirm, you can contact me…

She added a phone number and email.

It felt like every move was the wrong one.  Staying and waiting for the package with all the information and tools she needed, or trying to run with the kids in tow.  Letting Tyr go on the field trip and keeping things normal, Tyr happy, as opposed to refusing, keeping him close, disrupting everything.  Was she supposed to check what was happening outside and risk being seen, or keep her head down?

Even getting the kids to school felt like… getting the family minivan to the moon.  The distance, navigating there, the dangers?

She tried to center herself.

What was it Mia had said?  That there was a dead man’s switch for the babysitter?  In case both she and Carson were unable to get home in time, for some reason?

Was there a chance she’d been aiming that at Valentina?  Knowing she was overheard?

Please.

She stepped back out into the hallway.  Tyr wore different pants but was now not wearing socks, for some reason.  Ripley was looking more stressed, now.  Maybe because of timetable.

“Okay, hold on.  Where’s the babysitter’s number?  Josie, was it?”

“By the phone.”

Valentina went to the phone, then called.

“Hello?”

“Hi.  I’m at the Hurst house-”

“Oh god, yes.  Shit, shit.  Is there a problem?”

“I’m here, I’ve been here, things are okay-”

“I’ll come.  Two minutes.”

Josie hung up.

Okay.

The ‘shit, shit’ did not do a lot to ease Valentina’s worries.

“Socks and shoes,” Valentina told Tyr.  To Ripley, she said, “Patience.”

Then she was busy trying to wrangle that.

Josie, true to her word, was two minutes.  And forty seconds, but Valentina gave her a little slack.  Valentina opened the door without showing herself.

Josie was about her age, with light brown skin, a textured wave to her hair, a white sweatshirt, jeans, and boots.  It was a weird contrast, that Valentina’s first thought was that her friends from three years ago might have made comments about Josie’s slightly rumpled appearance or hair, or the fact she worked as a babysitter.  They’d all put way too much stock in their own family’s money, their school being a nice private one, and all that.  But at the same time, Josie was athletic, reasonably pretty, compared to Valentina, who felt misshapen, hips too wide, thighs thick despite everything.  Josie seemed to have it together, rumpled or not.

Josie gave Valentina a wary look.  “Issues?”

“Depends what you mean,” Valentina said, wary as well.

“Where’s Mia?  Or Carson?”

“Mia’s sick. Incapacitated, more like.  Carson’s gone.”

“Okay.  And you are…?”

“Family.”

“Right.  The cousin I’ve heard whispers about?”

“Tyr mentioned it, not me,” Ripley said.

“He did.  I’m sorry, though,” Josie said.  “I got the emergency message, and I didn’t see it fast enough.  Timing of my morning was all off.  Don’t get me into trouble with the boss, I really, really want to stay in her good books right now.”

Oh.  She was worried because she’d dropped the ball on responding to the emergency like she was meant to.

“It’s okay.  Just… help.”

“It’s an emergency?”

“Basically.”

“Okay,” Josie said.  She stepped away from Valentina, went to the kitchen, and pulled down two binders, snagging a dry erase marker from the outside of the fridge while she was there.  She then pulled down a third binder.  “I’m guessing this is you.”

“Is it?”

Before Valentina could get hers to see, Josie had two laminated sheets out from the others.  Josie explained, “Binders have all kid-relevant information.  Doctors and everything.  She didn’t explain?”

“She might’ve,” Valentina admitted.  “But it was information overload the past bit, and I had other stuff on my mind.”

“Sure.  Checklist.  We’re in emergency mission mode, Tyr.  Can you handle it?”

“Yeah!  Can it be superhero style?”

“Sure.  Superhero clothes on?  Geared up?”

“Yeah!  Oh, I can change my shirt to-”

“Stay on task, my guy.  Secret identity.  Bag check, did you remember all your homework and things?”

Tyr brought his bag.  Valentina moved the kids’s lunches to the kitchen island.

“Rip, you too.”

“I’m organized, though.”

“Let me see.”

Ripley might’ve been pretty organized, but she wasn’t perfect.  She’d forgotten a book.  Tyr had a worksheet.

Josie used the sheet as a guide.  Food- Tyr hadn’t eaten enough, by her judgment.  Cheese stick and fruit to supplement.  Lunches- Valentina had tried.  Josie deemed it sufficient.  Clothes, hair, shoes, weather appropriate clothes.  Both kids were clean.

“Good.  We’re behind schedule, do you know if Mia needs her car?”

“She- no.”

“I’m on the insurance as a just-in-case, for emergencies.  If you’re sure she won’t need it today, I’ll drive the kids, bring the car back at lunch.  Maybe pick up fast food on the way.  Maybe with a friend.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah.  Using the car buys us time.  They don’t mind as long as the kids are looked after, there’s communication, and the car’s reasonably clean.  Are you coming?  You new to school?”

“I’m- between schools.  Between a lot of things.  Me being here is kinda meant to be confidential.  While stuff’s up in the air.”

“They alluded to that.  Right.”

“Especially if anyone comes looking.”

Josie gave Valentina a second look, studying her.

Was that saying too much?

It would be saying too little if she didn’t and someone did come asking.

“Yeah.  Really got dumped into this, huh?”

“Kind of.”

“Come.  With me in the car.  You can take it back, if you’re on the insurance, or walk back?”

Coming back from the moon, in that case.  “I might be on the insurance, but I might stay.”

“Okay.  We’ll talk later, maybe, if Mia isn’t feeling better.  Come on, guys.  Car.”

Valentina followed Josie and the kids through to the attached garage, bringing the binder, hugging it against her chest.

It was like the bunker, in a way.  Valentina stood out of the way, watching as Josie used the panel by the door.  It was a lot like the bunker, with a camera view of the outside.  Josie had been trained or convinced to check when using the car.

Coast was clear, it seemed.

Josie knew that, but hadn’t opened the garage yet.

“What’s up?” Valentina asked.

“Can you come?  Seriously?”

“It’s important?”

“I’m not sure.”

Valentina experimentally checked, and pressing the button rotated through some cameras around the property, and one further from the property- with a decent view of the sky.  No drones.  The visibility was crap, the sky a haze.

Valentina had seen those camera feeds earlier in the week- and had been watching them for the past few days.  It felt weird seeing it in the garage, with a stranger using it casually.

All Valentina had to go on was the information Mia had mentioned in passing, Carson’s mention about getting some package of data, to take over things, and the brief mention of the babysitter.  Was she meant to lean more on Josie?  Was this supposed to be their lead?  It could be Josie had information or something and she didn’t know what to do with it, and Valentina was supposed to pick up on it.

The car windows were tinted.  Realizing she’d be obscured was the turning point.

“Okay.  I’ll come.”

“Hop in,” Josie said.  She climbed into the car, rolled down the window, and leaned into the door hard to reach the panel.  Going back to the first image.

This was dangerous.  Maybe it was stupid.  But she needed information.

The kids did a lot of talking from the back seat, Tyr still on the subject of superheroes, with Josie engaging.  Valentina sat in the passenger seat, binder in her lap.

First page was a checklist- not laminated like the kids, but more of a final set of things to do.  T.P.R. – termination of parental rights.  Get any I.D. from mom.  Clothes shopping.

Basic stuff.

Pages of records.  Academic records.  Past doctor’s appointments, dentist checkups.  Family records.

The back few pages had more things.  Sign-ins for family streaming account, personal password for the internet.

It couldn’t be that easy to get the information she needed about the criminal stuff.  It wouldn’t be.  Someone else could find this binder and get at it that way.  Mia wouldn’t leave a big weak point.

She kept an eye on the rearview mirror, and the side mirror- fiddling with the toggle switches until it flicked up at an angle.  No drone following, that she could see.

Would she be a clenched fist of anxiety by the time this was done?

Josie found a parking spot.  The kids, masks on, left for school, with Josie making sure they had their bags.  Valentina said goodbye, but kept her door shut and window rolled up, one hand holding a mask to her lower face until a bit after the door had been slammed shut.

The conditions outside meant only kids with proper full-face masks were being allowed on the playground.  Others were being ushered inside- some went in, despite having the full masks.

Tyr wasn’t one of them.  He immediately went to the highest point on the kindergarten play structure.  His roar of triumph was audible even inside the car, half a playground and half a parking lot away.

“He’s such a character,” Josie said, with obvious fondness.

Her eyes took note of every face in the crowd, where visibility was slightly limited.  No Cavalcanti soldiers she recognized, but by the sounds of things, Davie Cavalcanti had expanded a lot.

Josie sighing made her pause.

“Assembly coming up this morning,” Josie said.

“Yeah?”

“About the unstable political situation, risks at school, what services and things are going to be suspended, no more clubs, no more teams, no more school dance.  They’re going to spend a while setting expectations and dispelling rumors.  There’s going to be this awful question and answer section, too.  I bet there’ll be one stupid joke from some dork trying to impress their friends.  But the whole ideas is to get all the kids on the same page.  Break the news to them about awful the rest of this school year is going to be.”

“Makes sense.  I remember something like that at my school a while back.”

“Nobody was saying, but if there was a shooting drill this afternoon, it’d fit.  We’re overdue for an ‘organized movement against the school’ scenario, we had a lone shooter one a month ago.”

“Huh.”

“How much would you judge me if I skipped today?”

“Not at all.  I wouldn’t.”

“I helped a friend organize some of the stuff for the projector system, saw the cliff notes.  If my homeroom teacher asks, I’ll say I was doing more of that.  If the committee people ask, I was in homeroom.  If Mia asks…”

“You were helping me with emergency stuff.”

“Yeah.  Yeah?”  That second one was a question aimed at Valentina.

“Yeah, sure.”

Josie leaned her seat back a bit, sighing, and rubbed at her eyes.  They were red from the trace smoke exposure.  “I look like shit anyway.  Total panic mode this morning- I was debating skipping, slow-walking my way to that decision, changed up my routine, missed the emergency message.”

“Mia’s not going to ask, by the way.”

“Huh?” Josie asked.

“She’s not sick.  She’s out of town.  So is Carson.  It’s complicated- family stuff.  My family, my birth mom.  I don’t know why I fibbed about that.”

Valentina felt a weird sort of shame at making her birth mom a scapegoat here, when it was a completely fictional person she was accusing.

Josie seemed to take it in stride, saying, “Carson mentioned it might happen.  Asked me to keep things running if she had to duck out for something like that.  He said it might be because of Mia’s mom, but it’s your mom, instead?”

Valentina shrugged.

“I could sleep over, if that’s okay?  I can get the kids to bed, get them up, show you the ropes.”

“That’d be a huge help.”

“Cool.  She did me a huge solid, got me tickets to Est Tru.  I looked it up and they’re stupidly expensive.  I’m worried someone’s going to pull the rug out from under me.  I think m parents are itching for an excuse.  Which probably means I shouldn’t skip, but I fucking hate it when the mood at school is like this.”

“I hear you.  One question, though?”

“Shoot.”

“Who or what is Est Tru?” Valentina asked.

Josie looked confused, then looked more confused.  She straightened up and turned to stare at Valentina.

Valentina offered an awkward smile.  “Sorry.  It was a joke with my friends.  There’s a bunch of celebrities and if someone not in our group mentioned one of them, we’d coordinate.  Pretend we don’t know who Est Tru is, pretend there was a huge scandal with Sky Bird, ummm, or saying Gillum Barrera was in a relationship with Doll Mom from the learning channel.  There were a few others.  Then we’d see if we could get that person to believe it.  We’d let them know after, of course.”

“Okay,” Josie said, relaxing and smiling a bit.  “That could be funny.”

“It’s automatic at this point.  Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re alright.”

“Fuck me, I miss my friends,” Valentina said.  “I miss a lot of things.”

“Sorry.  Sounds tough.”

It was a limp answer but Valentina wasn’t sure she could do better in Josie’s place.

Was it a problem she’d mentioned something her friends did?  Was that a piece of connective tissue that someone could use to find her?  Would Mia be mad?

So much of her thinking was focused around Mia, because Mia had that intensity, but she missed Carson in a way too.  Because he made things feel easier, and he’d explained stuff, Mia included.  Letting Valentina know what to prioritize.

It felt so weird to be out here, in this parking lot, surrounded by people.  The tinted windows helped hide her, the smoke in the air didn’t hurt either, but…

“Can we go?  Back to the house?  Anywhere?”

“I was waiting.  There’s a reason I wanted you to come.”

“Yeah?”

Message?  Meeting?

“Looking for someone.”

I’m afraid someone’s looking for me.  Someone who already has Mia and Carson.

“See that guy?”

He wasn’t tall, and looked boyish, though with a bit of a heavy chin, with light brown skin and green eyes that stood out even from a distance.  He wore skinny jeans and a short sleeved button-up shirt that complimented that color, with repeating symbols that looked like half of a yin-yang, but jade and a green that matched his eyes, against a darker, kaleidoscopic background.  Hard for a lot of people to pull off, but with his eyes and skin tone, it popped.

It was hard to imagine him working for her father.  For Davie Cavalcanti.

“I see him,” Valentina confirmed, her heart sinking.  This wasn’t the package.  It wasn’t her getting information she needed.

“He was taking pictures yesterday.  Of me, I think?  But it might’ve also been Ripley and Tyr.”

“Just you?  Or others too?”

“Some others.  But mostly us.  I was going to mention it to someone, but I thought Mia might get fussy about that kind of thing.  Then I was going to just go straight to telling Mia, except she wasn’t feeling well.”

Ripley was still outside, talking to her friends.  Tyr was in the playground.  Valentina felt a kind of responsibility to watch over them, but this wasn’t why she’d thought Josie would be calling her out.  She’d hoped to get something she could use to take action.

Valentina watched as he got his phone out, then, after a second, held it to his ear.  His finger tapped nervously on the back.  He took a weird route as he paced.

“Can you see the phone screen?”  Valentina asked.

“Barely.  Visibility’s crappy.”

“Is he on a call?”

“Oh.  Oh.”

“You can see?”

“He’s taking creepshots while pretending to be on a call.  You can double tap the back of some phones to take a picture.”

Valentina saw him pace and turn, and quickly shielded her face.  The window tint helped, but it wasn’t perfect, and- no.  It was too risky.

He wasn’t watching the phone, and he was averting his eyes, so he didn’t notice.

“I hope that phone doesn’t upload to the cloud,” Josie said.

“Huh?”

“If it does, we might already be on some online site.”

“Yeah, right,” Valentina said.  “Two girls, fully clothed, behind a tinted window, sitting there like dopes.  Prime material.”

“I figure there’ll be girl number eleven-thirty-two and girl eleven-thirty-three and then some creep with a thing for earwax takes interest and gets our location, then comes after us.”

“Josie, I know we just met, I don’t mean any big offense over this, but you’re not attractive enough to be girl eleven-thirty-two.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m definitely not attractive enough, don’t misunderstand me.  I’m not- I’m not trying to be a bitch.  I’m being realistic.”

“Fuck off a little less, then.  First off, you’re fine.  Second, I figure what you look like doesn’t matter much.  It’s the age they’re into.”

“I’m sure looks matter some,” Valentina said.  I’ve seen girls who get pulled into this crap.  That one who went into the basement?

It made her sick to think about, because that thought was right next door to some thoughts about what was in that basement, that her dad had been showing the girl.  The people.  The noises they made, when they didn’t have tongues.

She clenched her fists, fighting uneasy nausea.

“I’m going to call him out,” Josie said.  “I have to, right?”

“No.  Because that traces back to us, he could come for revenge.  Call the school,” Valentina said.

“Hm.  That’s a good idea, but I’ll do you one better,” Josie said.  She got her phone out, and scrolled through the contact list.  She hit a button and brought her phone to her ear.  Legitimately, this time.

The guy paced, turning the other way.

Taking pictures of Tyr?

“Hi, Mrs. Scott, it’s Josie, from down the block.  I babysat for you?  I think there’s a guy being a creep outside the school playground.  I’m- yeah.  He’s got a phone to his ear, he’s pacing.  Shirt with the weird green and black pattern, short black hair.  I’m-”

Valentina winced.  That wasn’t ‘one better’.  Because now it wasn’t anonymous.  There were reasons besides the weird guy coming after them, that she didn’t want the phone tip to have a traceable origin.

A woman by the playground had her phone to her ear.  She turned, looking, and saw him.

“That’s him.  I’m too chickenshit to call him out mys- yes.  Horrible word.  He’s taking pictures, I think.”

This felt like the wrong thing to get involved in, even peripherally.  Valentina didn’t want questions.  She didn’t want people asking about Carson or Mia.

The mom quick-walked over to one of the playground attendants, presumably a teacher.

It was only a few moments of coordination later that the teacher, two men, and Mrs. Scott approached the man with the green eyes.

Josie had hung up.  “My heart’s racing.  You think he’s dangerous?”

“It’s been a crazy week.  I don’t know what to think about anything.”

“Has the rest of your week been as crazy as this?”

Valentina wasn’t sure how to respond.  She glanced over at Josie, saw the girl looking at her, reading her expression.

“No shit?”

“Complicated,” Valentina muttered.  She shouldn’t be giving this much away.  But it was nice to have someone listening to her.  She watched as the adults escorted the man inside.  One had his phone.  A woman went in with him.

“Oh, that’s Natalie Teale.”

“Who?”

“Her kid got stolen in broad daylight.  She did this big campaign, kept bringing attention to her kid, spent a lot of money, wanted to keep it afloat by drawing attention to other missing kids.  Making her baby the face of America’s missing.”

“When was this?”

“When we were little.  I only know because some of the parents were talking about it.  The whole thing died before it started, after one of the moms of a missing kid she was drawing attention to accused her of trying to milk her kid’s tragedy for her own sake, and they found out the organization wasn’t being good with the money donated, only, like, twenty percent of the money went to missing kids, and fifteen percent went to Natalie.  She just moved here.”

Valentina closed her eyes.  Shit.

It would have been better to ignore him.  To pretend nothing was amiss.  Anxiety and sadness warred in her gut, and overall, she felt a wave of exhaustion.  The sort that made her want to curl up and cry it out.

This wasn’t her.  It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

“Can we go?”

“Sure.”

They pulled out of the parking lot, and onto the road.

Was this a thing?  Was this Natalie person tied to Carson and Mia?  Was the man?  Had she just thrown a big wrench into things, if this guy had his phone searched, and there was increased attention on Ripley and Tyr?  Questions?  What could she do to get things back on track?

Should she get things back on track?

Either Tyr or Ripley were Natalie’s missing kid, or Natalie, through knowing about missing kids, was looking into it.

Would it be better to help them?

She felt sick.

She really, really didn’t want to have a panic attack in this car, with the most normal person she’d talked to in… two weeks.

Except not wanting it made her afraid of having one, which was fear, which was feeding into it, making it more likely, bringing her to the edge.

She gripped the part of the car door that stuck out as a handle.

The phone ringing elicited a small alarmed sound from her.

“Answer?” Josie asked.  “I’m driving.”

She wasn’t positive she could, but she did.

“Hello?”

“I’m answering Josie’s phone, because she’s driving.  Hi.”

“This is Melly Scott, Josie called about a man.  Did you see him too?”

“Yeah.  We both saw him.”

“I wanted to let you know, he’s being let go.  He had a reason for doing what he’s doing, someone else vouched for him.  They’re barring him from school grounds for alarming people and not being forthright, but he’s not dangerous.  Still, you should tell Josie she did a good job.  If you see something, say something.”

Shit.

“Tell Josie to call me back as soon as possible?  It’s important.”

“Okay.”

“Take care of yourselves, girls.  Have a good day at school.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Scott.”

Valentina hung up.

“What’s the story?” Josie asked.

“They let him go.  You did good calling.”

“Your idea.  Partially.”

“Mmm.  Not really.  And you’re supposed to call back.”

“Maybe she wants to ask about Rip and Tyr?  If he was actually taking pictures of them?”

Valentina gripped the door handle tighter.

They were back in their neighborhood.  The moisture in Valentina’s eyes stung, and had a weird almost taste, like smoke.  Or maybe she associated the stinging with smoke enough that she thought she smelled it.

They reached the house.

A car was parked across the street.  A Chevron Midas, black.

“Keep driving?”

“Why?”

“Keep driving.”

“I’m legit a little freaked out.”

“My mom’s going through stuff.”

“Tyr said.  Ripley sorta clarified.  She said not to say she did.”

“And I’m trying to lie low.  Because if people go by official channels, I’ll probably get stuck in foster care for a while before I can be placed with relatives.  Mia’s trying to handle that stuff and get it so I can go straight to them, first.  But family might be at the house already.”

“You can’t call Mia and Carson?”

“No.  Maybe I’m wrong and it’s a regular car.”

Mia had provided a lot of general information to Valentina, to the point it made her head spin.  She said she had a head injury and she’d struggled a lot, but Valentina had the impression that Mia could memorize and keep track of a lot of small details.  Maybe because of that, she seems to expect it from Valentina, Rip, and Tyr.

So she’d given Valentina a lot.  Some of it, Valentina felt, was stuff like the binder.  It felt like something that had come up at a time Valentina was barely functional, tired and taking in a whole new environment.  Surviving.

But Valentina had focused on those details that helped her survive.  One was the cameras.  For day one, every car that had come down the street was a potential threat.  She’d learned which cars the neighbors drove.  That nobody really had people drop in- some kids came by after school, and parents picked those kids up, and one guy had couriers come, but not a Chevron Midas.

No drones she could see.  The visibility was bad.

She had a sense of the cameras and where they were.  She flipped up her hood, lower face covered by a mask.

“If you’re staying over, go get your stuff?  Let me check there’s no family drama?”

“Maybe Mia and Carson are back.”

If they are, I think they’ve had a few pieces of them cut off, and it’s a message.

She’d spent a week in that house, looking out for trouble.  She avoided the parked car, and avoided the best vantage points.

She got to the house, got out her key, and went to the back door.  Same key for the front and back.

She could see movement- it was hard, with how bright it was outside, even with the smoke, and how dark it was inside.  The play of light and shadow made the reflections work against her.  But movement, still.

Valentina had to work to make sense of what she was seeing, as she crouched by the door, in the shadow of the barbecue.

Someone was sitting down.  Tied up?

She unlocked the door and eased it open.

A guy, maybe eighteen years old, pimples at his hairline and sideburns, sat tied with arms behind his head, attached to a section of the dining room table.

“Shhh,” she whispered.  “I’m friendly.”

“Fuck, shit, you scared me,” he said.

He was a delivery guy.  Not food, but the visor and polo shirt were for packages.

Her package?  At this point she was worried it was going to be more bait.

They had to have come right in after Josie took the kids, when the house was empty.

“How many?”

“One.  I think.  Upstairs.”

He was craning his head around, trying to get a good look at her.  The way he was tied to the table, it wasn’t really doable, and she wasn’t helping.

She could hear commotion upstairs.  He wasn’t loud, but she had the impression the guy upstairs was really ransacking the place.

I shouldn’t have showed myself to the delivery guy.

No, wait, it doesn’t matter either way.  Because they’re fucking with Mia and Carson.  They’re going to leave this guy here.  Or let him go, so he can report back about the location.  Drawing attention here.

Or something.

But leaving this alone, letting it play out, it wasn’t going to work.

Getting involved wasn’t going to work either.  Valentina had spent too many years being driven around by people like this.  Seeing them with her father.  Seeing them play basketball in the court behind the house.

Taller than her.  Stronger.  Better at fighting.  Better armed.

She stopped to text Josie, telling her not to come.  She could at least make this situation not get any worse.

What did she have?

“Did you deliver a package?” she murmured.

“I think- yeah.  Female name.  I went to the door, some guy came up behind me, held me up.  Broke in, told me to go inside, tied me up.  I don’t get it.”

“Be absolutely quiet,” she told him.

Ducking low, she crossed the house.  It was dark- curtains drawn for her own benefit, a lot of the surfaces textured, decorative bars protecting a lot of windows close to the ground.

She had one thing to her advantage.  This was more her house than theirs.

Another thing that she’d paid more attention to, in the information dump about this place, about living here, and taking advantage of what Carson and Mia were providing her… defense of the house.

She’d been scared.  She was scared.  She’d been willing to reach for and cling to anything that helped her protect herself in this scary situation.  Anything that would save her if her dad came storming in.

It hadn’t.  He’d come in, Mia hadn’t used the same options she’d described to Valentina.

But those options were there.

She glanced over her shoulder to check, then got a quarter from the change thing by the front door.  One screw by the light switch was extra accommodating.  She gave it a quarter turn, and it popped out enough to move out of the way.

A second switch like the ones from the lights was recessed in there.

She flicked it, then replaced the cover, holding it down while turning the key.

She returned to the captive, taking a route around the ground floor that kept her out of his direct view.  She whispered the words, “Can you lift your end of the table?”

“Barely.  Why?  Cut me free.”

“Lift on three,” she told him.  “Circle around.  So you’re in the corner.”

“Cut me free,” he hissed.

“Trust me.”

He did oblige.  Things almost wobbled- she could hold one end, he was holding one corner.  The corner that wasn’t supported almost came down hard enough that it rapped against the floor, which would give them away.

But, waddling, the delivery guy moved to the corner.  She partially covered him with the curtain.  She grabbed a knife from the kitchen as she passed through it.

The guy upstairs was still audible, searching.  Digging around.

She unlocked the front door, then hurled it open, with enough force it banged against the wall.

Then ducked into the living room.  Behind a chair, kitchen knife ready.

The noise got the attention of the guy upstairs.  He came down the stairs fast.

Captive delivery guy gone.  Door open?

He dashed outside to see if he could catch up to the kid.  Had to.  She had a glimpse of him, from her vantage point behind the chair.  His arms were full.

Valentina heard the crash as he dropped what he was carrying.

Heart hammering, her mouth dry, eyes stinging from tears and smoke both, she stepped out from behind the chair, crossed the living room, and moved carefully, in case he’d hit ground and decided to stay there, gun in hand.

He hadn’t.  He lay there, nothing in his hands, position awkward.

As she got closer, there was a faint whisking sound.  Like a fork dragged across a frying pan.  Moving her foot closer to the top stair of the porch, it recurred.  Moving it back, it receded.  She’d mentally termed it the porch poacher’s wire.  A tripwire, that ran up notches running up the center of the main posts on either side of the top step.  It’d trip someone at the ankle or lower shin, as they approached the top stair.  If they were coming in, they’d fall right at the front door.  More effectively, if they were on their way out, they’d fall like this.  The railings on either side of the stairs were too steep, Mia had said, to let someone effectively catch themselves if they found themselves doing a header off the top step.

This guy hadn’t caught himself.

The coast was clear.  Nobody was out there.  Visibility was crap enough only the two houses across the street would have any view.  Nobody was expressing alarm, running outside, or reacting.

She’d been prepared to go after him.  Let him fall, then jump on top of him with the knife, if she had to.  To finish the job.  It didn’t seem necessary now.

She had to move fast.

She opened the garage door.  Double checking things were clear, she made sure to step over the tripwire before going down to where he was.  It would be horrible to fall for the same trap.

She dragged him.  It wasn’t easy.  He was unconscious, or dying.  His hand had a tremor to it, signaling there was some life in there.

She’d heard you weren’t meant to move someone with a possible spinal injury.  She moved him a lot.

Breathing hard, now, coughing from smoke that she was inhaling, despite the mask, she fought to get him inside.  Grass was easier than pavement.  Once she reached driveway, the increased traction meant the only good way was to roll him, grabbing shoulder and hip and flipping him.

His neck clicked like cracked fingers when his head lolled.

A lone car came tearing down the road.  Smoke and emotion choked her as she watched it roar by.  Not Cavalcanti, she was pretty sure.  And if she couldn’t make out the make of the car in this smoke, she doubted they’d identify that the dark lump at the front of her garage was an unconscious or dying man.

She checked the skies, but with the smoke being what it was… drones didn’t make a ton of sense.  They’d have to be close enough for her to hear them.

It was very quiet in the suburb.

She got him inside enough, then hit the button for the garage.  It came down, then immediately started going up again, not cooperating.  A bit of him was in the way of the sensor.  She physically held him out of the way of the sensor until the door was shut.

She locked the garage door shut, so Josie wouldn’t pop it open, then searched him.

The gun was outside- she’d have to get that fast.  Wallet.  Keys.

Two phones in one pocket.

One was his.  The wallpaper was porn.

The other had the default background, and a blank space where the name display should be.

She removed her mask and held it up until the green rectangle fixated on her face.

1/3.  Face verified.

This is the package?  Not a laptop, not a suitcase packed with files and information?  A single phone?

She had other priorities.  She checked the guy wasn’t moving, then disabled the trap, returning to the place he’d fallen.  She picked up the fallen laptop- it looked and had a weight to it like one Mia had cannibalized it for parts.  Like it was hollow.  And the gun.

Back inside.  Doors shut.

She sat in the garage, door between garage and house locked, because the outside world was feeling scary, with problems piled onto problems.

She had a phone.  She verified her face again.  The ‘1/3’ popped up.

“Phone.  Please work for me.”

Voice.

2/3.  Voice verified.

Thumbprint?  It would have registered already.

She tried again, giving it time, this time.

3/3.  Thumbprint and body-

The message disappeared as the phone unlocked.  Giving her a very basic cell phone.

Bare bones contents, except for what Mia had put on it.

One app.  A list of features.

Contacts.  Codes.  Locations.  I.D..  Cameras.  Tracking.  Resources.

She selected contacts.

They were broken into lists.  A list of names.  A list of roles.

She wanted names.  She’d investigate roles later.  Highland.

“Finally, I’ve been expecting relief for ages now,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.  “And I expected code, not a call.  It’s not often I hear your voice.”

She wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s you, isn’t it?  Or did some bullshit telemarketer-“

“It’s not her,” Valentina said.  “They got her.  And…”

She shouldn’t use Carson’s name.

“They got both of them,” she said.

This time it was Highland’s turn to be silent.

“I’m pretty scared,” she said.  “It’s all fucked up.  But she left me the tools to do what I have to.  I guess this is part of what she was working on, when she spent all those nights up late.”

“Guess so,” was the response, rougher than before.  “You’re the girl who was watching the cells?”

“Yeah.”

“Our friend kept us from crossing paths, but I could see what movies you were watching.  Didn’t scream ‘grizzled soldier’.”

The man who’d fallen off the stairs had been unconscious for a while now.  More and more, it seemed like he wasn’t going to wake up from it.  Like his breaths deflated him a little more than they inflated him, his chest sinking into itself.  Which wasn’t really what was happening, but there was that sense of him diminishing.

“When were they taken?” Highland asked.

“Crack of dawn.  Five-something in the morning.  I hid.  A delivery person came, they took him and broke in.  I… acted.  Used one of her traps.”

“Fucking christ.  She can be scary, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Almost randomly, Valentina was sorting through the phone.  ‘Resources’ had things like evidence – with options for analyzing it, apparently- she wasn’t sure what that was about.  And for hiding it.  Codes was a list of the various codes Mia used with Carson.  Valentina wasn’t sure what to do with all that.

Looking at contacts, she checked the roles there.  Cleaner.  That was someone who dealt with bodies.  She knew that more from movies than anything her dad had taught her.  Soldiers.  Information.  Doctors.  Just two of those.  Dragon?  Street knowledge.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.  Thinking.”

“So am I.”

Some names popped up in multiple categories.

When she highlighted one, picking a cleaner, it brought up more information.

There were two cleaners.  Each had a loyalty rating.  Mia and Carson both had given them ratings- how much they expected betrayal.

The first guy had a one star rating from Mia and a two star rating from Carson.  The second wasn’t much better- two and three.

Cost.  How much it would take to hire them.

Then notes, background.  Old name, current name.

Both cleaners were assholes.  Dangerous.  Gang affiliated- with one of the gangs that had been folded into the Kitchen.  Yeah.  One or two stars.

Thinking about cost, Valentina found the icon for a bank on the phone’s main page.

$711,490.50

Every ask for help a gamble.  Costing money from a limited pool.

Highland had five stars from Mia.  Four from Carson.

“I’ve got a body to deal with.  And…”

The guy in the dining room.

“…another captive, I guess.  I’m not sure how to do this.  I don’t think there’s a way to handle it that doesn’t… doesn’t just put a bigger target on us.  On her.”

“Who is she to you?”

“The closest thing I have to family.”

“Alright.  Then I’m deciding to trust you.”

“Same.  In a big way.”

“You’re where she lives?  The voice on the phone?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” he said.  “She’s going to hate that I’m asking this, but I’m going to need you to tell me where that is.  Where you, this body, and the captive are.”

She did.

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