“Been a pleasure working with you,” Rache said as Joy helped her load up her van. “Sorry we weren’t able to see things the whole way through.”

  “You guys did plenty,” Joy replied, offering a smile. “Besides, we always knew you’d be leaving.”

  Summer had come, and with it the time for the remaining members of the RFB to depart. A few had traveled ahead a few weeks before, making sure the plans were still laid in Germany despite Richard’s death. Rache had confided in Joy about his background with the German intelligence, something that had surprised her. It seemed strange for a foreign government to recruit abroad. Then again, with their experience here, they’d be valuable in the fight overseas.

  Still, Joy was sad to see them go. She hadn’t been terribly close with any of the RFB, but they’d all treated her well. They were also good at following orders, something that would be sorely missed she had no doubt. But there were problems elsewhere, Joy understood. Brockton Bay was, for all intents and purposes, at peace.

  That didn’t mean the Terriers weren’t kept busy policing the South End. They’d stepped back their stakeout efforts somewhat, focusing on the areas that had borne fruit. Weeks went by between raids now, and what they often found wasn’t a Nazi terrorist cell, but simple drug dealers or arms traffickers. Important to stop, but not their main objective.

  At least the PRT had backed off their hostile stance. The press releases still described the Terriers as a gang, but they were violent vigilantes instead of villains. It was a small change, but one Joy was happy had happened. It meant her efforts were working, that she’d pulled her team back from the brink, that Lia hadn’t sunk them.

  “Well, I suppose that’s that,” Fidel sighed as the van pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the road. “We’re on our own.”

  “Yeah,” Joy said with a nod. “Still, not totally alone.”

  “Not alone,” he agreed.

  They were still a force to be reckoned with. Their numbers may have shrunk significantly from their peak, but those who remained were hardened veterans. The Terriers and ANTIFA were all locals, contrasting the rest of the groups that had allied themselves. They’d be fighting for their home, or in Joy’s case the place that she’d been forced to make her home.

  She got into Fidel’s car and they started heading back to Reese’s place, one of a few houses they rotated through. Papa’s was off limits for work, a rule he’d laid down but Lia had never respected. Joy at least didn’t want to piss people off more than absolutely necessary. Besides, Papa had been nothing but good to them, he deserved some peace.

  “So what next?” Fidel asked.

  “Hm?”

  “I asked what next,” he repeated. “Our forces have been cut down, we’re having trouble finding targets, and you’ve vetoed...alternative sources of income.”

  “We’re not selling guns,” Nadir said firmly.

  “Not to gangsters, to people who need to defend themselves.” Fidel stopped at a light and gave her a look. “People in our position who don’t have the means to resist.”

  “It’s still arms dealing,” she said, shaking her head. “And it’ll get us in hot water with the authorities, I’d rather avoid that when we’ve been making progress.”

  “Then how do you plan to liquidate our armoury?” he demanded. “As it is, we don’t have a good place to store everything. The lease on the apartment building expires in a week, and there isn’t an alternative. Do you really think you can trust your team, storing them in their homes?”

  “Absolutely,” Nadir said. “But we could always turn them over to the PRT for disposal.”

  “I’ll veto that one,” Fidel replied sharply. “The government doesn’t need more weapons than it has. You don’t trust self-defense groups, I don’t trust the authorities. Won’t you at least meet some of these people and hear them out? It can’t hurt.”

  “Don’t try to twist my arm into making us a gang,” she snapped. “We’ve barely escaped being branded as terrorists, Fidel. I don’t think you realize how close this was to being a disaster.”

  “I understand plenty,” he said flatly. “But I don’t believe this make us a gang. Is it illegal? Yes, but we’re not taking actions that harm the community.”

  “Still, no.”

  “Fine.” There was a brief pause. “If you’re wondering what we could do, the soup kitchen always needs spare hands and security. We’ve got money that we can put into it too.” Joy pursed her lips.

  “Yeah, maybe we do that,” Joy said, the gears in her mind turning. “Do any of your people have medical training beyond first aid?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Well, see if any of them want some training,” she said. “Maybe we can offer a clinic.”

  “Now that’s a good idea,” Fidel said, smiling.

  She was glad he agreed, because she felt like it was the best idea she’d had since joining the Terriers…

  The clinic turned out to be more successful than Joy had ever hoped.

  For the first time since she got powers, she was helping people without a mask. Well, without truly hiding her face at least; she wore a medical mask for sanitation of course. Rosa and Lin had both asked for training to help, as had Wick to Joy’s surprise. No complaints from her of course, more hands made light work.

  Joy taught them all the basics of triaging patients and collecting info on their symptoms. They practiced IVs and injections too, just for good measure. All of it would come in hand the day of, a bright summer afternoon. They’d occupied the gym of the C.J. Henry Community Center in the South End. There had been a bit of a fight to get them in here, not from the staff but from her team. After all, they’d just been fighting here months ago.

  But that was why Joy had doubled down and made it their first stop with the clinic. She wasn’t sure how many civilians had been hurt in the fighting, but if any had then it was her responsibility to take care of them.

  Of course, being formerly enemy territory, they’d come armed. Each of them carried a pistol, and though they were technically out of uniform her and Lin could deal with pretty much any trouble with their combined powers. But they weren’t expecting trouble, they were expecting injured people.

  And there were plenty to deal with.

  The clinic had opened at eight and there had already been a line of people waiting. They’d posted flyers around the South End advertising it, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise. Still, the sheer numbers meant their day was off to a flying start.

  Her team did better than she had expected. Wick handled triage, while the others helped her with treatment. A lot of the issues weren’t things they were equipped to handle. Broken bones, old joint pain, or untreated illness. Still, Joy did the best she could. They splinted or immobilized what they needed, offered painkillers, and sent them off to real doctors with the knowledge they needed for a real fix.

  Others were more straightforward. There were plenty of regular cuts and other injuries that needed attention, easy enough when the patients cooperated. Some were wary of their weapons, but Joy reassured them it was only for defense. Still, Fidel and a heavily armed team sat in a van out front, just in case that wasn’t enough.

  Halfway through the day though, a surprise arrived.

  “Yo Joy?” Wick said, poking his head into the treatment area. “Um, can you come out here a minute? Got someone that...maybe wants to help.”

  “Oh?” Joy arched a brow. “Okay, give me a second.”

  She made sure Rosa and Lin were good, then pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the garbage. She got some hand sanitizer and cleaned herself off, then headed out of the little tent they’d set up and into the main gym. Every chair was full, and another half-dozen people were sitting wherever they found space. Wick was standing next to two girls, looking a little nervous.

  “You’re in charge?” the shorter of the two asked. She had brown, curly hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and was already wearing a medical mask over her face. A headband covered her forehead, with a logo Joy didn’t recognize; an open box with a crimson drop of blood inside it.

  “Who’s asking?” Joy replied, crossing arms.

  “You don’t recognize her?” the other said, a taller girl with black hair. Her face was uncovered, and she was frowning.

  “It’s fine, Esther,” the first said. “I’m Pandora, a hero. I can heal people actually, so I thought I’d stop by when I heard about this.”

  “Good thing you guys advertised,” the second, Esther, said with a nod. “Good that you’re doing this too. Lotta people need help around here.”

  “Here and everywhere,” Joy replied. “So you want to help? Sounds good to me. We only have the stuff here a little more than first aid. If you could treat anyone with something more serious, or if they’re sick, that’d be great.”

  “Sure,” Pandora agreed, gesturing to Wick. “This guy can help with that?”

  “Wick?”

  “Yeah come on.” He led her away while Esther stepped closer.

  “So are you guys part of the Terriers?” she asked, voice low. Joy barely stopped her hand from twitching towards her pistol, and something must have shown on her face. “No it’s cool, don’t worry. I just saw the ANTIFA logo and know they’re working together. Thought you might be part of it, that’s all.”

  “I’m just a nurse,” Joy said flatly. “All that...it’s too much for me.”

  “Me too,” Esther said bashfully. “Like I don’t know how they did it, but I’m glad they did you know?”

  “Are you?” she asked, not quite believing it. “I mean, the city got pretty messed up.”

  “City’s been messed up plenty,” Esther replied, shrugging. “I don’t think they did any worse than the Undersiders. Hell, they got rid of the Empire.”

  “Maybe,” Joy hedged, not wanting to let her know too much, but not wanting her to get her hopes up either. “Those types have a nasty habit of sticking around.”

  “Yeah but the Terriers are still here too,” Esther said confidently. “Between them and the Protectorate, I think it’ll be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Joy said. “I don’t want a repeat of that war.”

  “I think things are finally looking up for the city,” she replied, smiling.

  “Yeah.” Joy shifted in place, glancing over her shoulder. “I should get back to work.”

  “Sorry, don’t let me keep you,” Esther said quickly. “I’ll just...stay out of the way.”

  “Appreciated,” Joy said, nodding. She glanced at Pandora, who was currently laying her hand on a young woman whose face was contorted in pain. She narrowed her eyes. Was that…? “Panacea…”

  “Hm?”

  “Did Pandora ever go by another name?” she asked, still looking at the hero. “Not her real name, obviously, but another codename?”

  “Um, I dunno,” Esther said, sounding uncomfortable. “Always been Pandora to me…”

  “Mm.” Joy didn’t want to press Esther, but she had no doubts as to the healer’s identity; and her former relationship with Lia. “A...friend of mine used to date a healer too. There’s not too many of them around, so I just thought…”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “That’s pretty crazy,” Esther said hesitantly. “I mean, what are the odds, right?”

  “Right,” she agreed, looking back at Esther and meeting her eyes. She held her gaze silently, pressure building. “She ever talk about her exes?”

  “That’s a little—”

  “Amaranth.” The name made Esther flinch, and confirmed Joy’s suspicions. “Whatever you’ve heard, she wasn't...she tried.”

  “Something wrong?” Pandora asked as she strode over, putting an arm around Esther’s back and glaring at Joy.

  “Just asking about you,” Joy replied evenly. “It’s my clinic, I need to make sure everyone working here is above board.”

  “I’m a PRT certified healer,” she said incredulously. “I have working relationships with every hospital in the city. Who the fuck are you?”

  “A nurse,” Joy said simply. “One who appreciates having a healer on deck to help.”

  “You’re one of Amaranth’s people,” Pandora muttered under her breath. “Leave us alone, will you?”

  “You came here,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Look we appreciate the help, but any trouble gets put on my head, so I’m careful about who we have around.”

  “Interesting perspective from a criminal,” Pandora mumbled.

  “Heal people or don’t,” Joy snapped, finished with the conversation. She turned on her heel, towards the tent. “I have work to do.” As she got back to helping people, Joy reflected it was no small wonder Lia had left her ex.

  She was a bitch.

  The warm summer breeze ruffled Joy’s hair as she walked up the sidewalk. The sun was beginning to lower, but it still beat down pleasantly on her face. The pleasant weather was a small comfort for the bubbling anxiety that had her on edge, growing with every step she took.

  She was taking a bit of a gamble tonight, but she didn’t really feel she had a better option. Joy was out of ideas for what to do with the Terriers. The raids were coming fewer and further between, and it wouldn’t be long before they burned through the war chest that had been seized from Werwolf just staking things out. Without the ability to get income from selling drugs or guns like a conventional gang, that left them with a limited lifespan.

  Hopefully, the person she was visiting could help like that. Hopefully she wouldn’t report Joy to the PRT and have her arrested. She was going in unarmed, though as a parahuman she was never really unarmed. With any luck, she hadn’t burned this bridge badly enough that it collapsed under her.

  The house she was looking for hadn’t changed since the last time she’d been here. Still a nice little bungalow in a nice neighbourhood. Joy’s heart pounded like she was going into combat as she strode up the path towards the front door. Her arm felt like it was made of lead as she lifted it up, fist curled. She knocked twice, then took a step away, sweat pricking at her back.

  “Hello— Joy?!” Lafayette Hooks opened the door and her jaw fell open, eyes like saucers.

  “Hey Lafayette,” Joy said sheepishly, forcing herself to meet the older woman’s gaze. “It’s...been a while.”

  “It has,” Lafayette said evenly, crossing her arms and looking Joy up and down.

  “I was wondering if we could...talk,” Joy said hesitantly. “I could really use some advice right now.” She tensed as Lafayette arched a brow and sized her up again, ready for a prompt rejection. It was what she deser—

  “Come on,” she sighed. “I’ll make us some coffee.”

  Lafayette turned and headed inside, leaving the door open behind her. Joy followed through, a nervous smile breaking out on her face as she crossed the threshold and kicked off her shoes. She followed Lafayette into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. It was the same as when Joy had left months ago, the same room she’d eaten breakfast in dozens of times, the same table.

  There were small changes. A new picture on the wall showed a smiling Lafayette in her dress uniform, now with three chevrons on the arm. A promotion, it seemed. The table now had a vase on it with some fresh flowers, roses. Did she have a new partner, or a partner since she was single the last time Joy was here? Her attention turned to Lafayette as she waited for the coffee to brew.

  She’d barely changed at all. Same high and tight haircut, same stern resting expression that made her look like she was in a perpetual bad mood; the same expression that could turn around in an instant with a smile that made you feel like family. If anything was different, Lafayette looked even stronger than she had before.

  She came over with two cups of coffee and sat at the table, pushing one mug over to Joy. She took it and sipped, smiling at the sweet, warm brew. Lafayette still remembered how she liked it. They drank their coffee quietly, looking anywhere but each other. Finally though, Lafayette set her mug down and cleared her throat.

  “So,” Lafayette began. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m…” Joy considered how to answer that question. “Fine, I guess. I have food, clean water, a place to stay; all the basics are covered, so...yeah, I’m doing okay.”

  “That’s a pretty dismal assessment,” she said flatly. “You look tired. Sleeping okay?”

  “Not enough,” Joy admitted. “But there’s a lot of...work to do, a lot of responsibilities.”

  “Mm.” Lafayette pursed her lips. “Let’s talk plainly, I’m not a fan of beating around the bush. The Terriers, what are you doing with them?” Joy sighed. Should have known it would be a confrontation.

  “I’m running it,” she replied, making Lafayette tense. “Only after Amaranth’s arrest, mind you. I’ve been trying to keep it from going...like it did.”

  “But still running a gang.”

  “No,” Joy said sharply. “I’m trying to stop it from becoming one, keeping us from doing anything illegal.”

  “Besides all the assault and firearms charges,” Lafayette said dryly.

  “You don’t get stuck with those,” she snapped. “And we’re only doing what you guys do: busting bad guys and throwing them over to the courts.”

  “You know how bad conviction rates are for people taken in by vigilantes?” Lafayette asked.

  “If the courts can’t convict someone found with a hundred pounds of drugs in their house, they aren’t worth a damn and Lia was right.” They glared at each other across the table for a moment, then Lafayette sighed.

  “I can’t say I disagree with you there,” she muttered. “But there’s a right way to do things Joy. Turn yourself in, make a plea, they’ll probably let you join the Protectorate on probation. You’ll be back out there busting villains in no time, and it’ll stick.”

  “And what about my team?” Joy asked. “Sure the Protectorate might have me or...a couple others,” she didn’t want to out her friends, “but not everyone is unlucky enough to have powers.”

  “I’m sure you could work something out,” Lafayette reassured her. “But as it is, it’s only a matter of time until they take you down.”

  “Until you take us down.”

  “I hope not,” she said, frowning. “But if I had to…” Lafayette looked deeply troubled at the idea, but there was resolve in her eyes.

  “Well I’m still going to try,” Joy said firmly. “I’ve brought us back from being terrorists, I can make this work. Keeping touch with the Protectorate so they know what we’re doing, and giving all our suspects and evidence to them. New Wave exists fine, so does Bayside Bulwark; and you don’t step on their toes.”

  “They follow the rules,” Lafayette said.

  “So do we,” she retorted.

  “No.” Lafayette shook her head. “You use firearms, you drag in unpowered people, and that’s not even talking about everything you guys did just a few months ago.”

  “That wasn’t me,” Joy said, hating how weak the excuse sounded, how weak it was.

  “You could have walked, you didn’t, or am I wrong?” Joy bit her lip and Lafayette sighed. “Look, I don’t blame you. I grew up here, I know what it’s like to live in a place where seeing Nazis is a normal thing, and I hated it. That’s why I joined the PRT, to take them down a peg.”

  “It’s not an option for everyone,” Joy said. “And it didn’t fix the problems that existed anyway.”

  “You think you have?” Lafayette asked incredulously.

  “An entire gang of white supremacists wiped out?”

  “A power vacuum that worse sorts might flow into.”

  “Worse sorts?” Joy echoed incredulously. “Worse than Nazis? Bullshit you buy that.”

  “Set dressing,” Lafayette spat. “Disgusting shit, but they really weren’t worse than other gangs in the city, certainly not as bad as the Teeth, or the Nine.”

  “Cold comfort for anyone victimized by them,” she said.

  “And what about the people victimized by you?”

  “Don’t you dare compare us,” Joy barked. “Did you forget that they were the ones who kidnapped me and decided I’d make a good toy for them? The worst we do is kill, you can’t say the same for them.”

  “Sorry Joy,” Lafayette sighed, shoulders slumping as she stared into her coffee. “I just...you need to understand that everything you’re doing has consequences. Not saying what I do doesn’t, but it goes through a process to minimize the harm.”

  “And the effect,” Joy replied flatly.

  They sat in silence for another few minutes, stewing. It was obvious they weren’t going to agree on how to do things, but that wasn’t what Joy had expected. She’d gotten sidetracked defending the Terriers. There was another reason she’d risked coming here…

  “Look,” Joy said at last. “I came to you for advice on what to do next. Protectorate, PRT, not an option but...I want us to be legit, and not turn into just another gang plaguing the city. I’ve been keeping us out of trouble as much as I can but…” She sighed and shook her head. She just wasn’t cut out for leadership.

  “Don’t ask for the impossible,” Lafayette warned.

  “Is it really impossible? Do you really think they’re going to try and take me down for trying to turn the Terriers into heroes?”

  “I don’t see how you can do it,” she sighed. “I couldn’t.”

  “I guess I’ll have to try harder,” Joy said, drawing herself up and taking a deep breath. “Thanks for the coffee. I’ll stop bothering you.”

  “Joy.” She paused as she rose, eyeing Lafayette. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” A smile touched her lips and she nodded before leaving Lafayette’s house and heading for home.

  They may be on different sides, but Joy intended to take Lafayette up on that offer.

  Summer came and went with little action to keep the Terriers busy. A raid here and there, no more than two per month if they were lucky. Still, their relationship with the PRT slowly became a little more functional. The cops showed up with non-lethal weapons, sometimes without a cape in tow even. The threats of arrest were silenced, and Joy had even managed to develop a working, if dysfunctional, relationship with Miss Militia.

  It was nothing more than cordiality, but it made Joy feel like things were finally working. That feeling continued to grow as the leaves turned red and the sky turned grey. By all accounts, their success against Werwolf had only been confirmed. Gang activity in the South End had plummeted, though there was of course plenty of crime to deal with besides. The emblem-riddled tags that had defaced walls and building was gone, yet to be replaced.

  There were still problems to deal with of course. Like Lafayette had said, there was a power vacuum that other gangs and villains were eager to fill. The PRT did their thing with patrols, the Terriers made themselves a serious obstacle, and the Undersiders slithered in to fill the gaps as best they could to stop other gangs from pressing in again.

  It wasn’t an official alliance, and Joy certainly didn’t want to be helping villains establish themselves deeper in the city. But Tattletale, at least, was a known quantity. All things considered, she wasn’t even that bad compared to the other villains this city had seen. Joy had avoided targeting their group, partly because of Tattletale’s warning, mostly because she didn’t want things to go the way they had.

  There was a chill in the air when Heartbreaker and his clan came to town. It was the only time the PRT had made an official pact with the Terriers to ally against the monstrous Master. In the end they had never gotten involved, the Undersiders had been the ones to kill him. They were pretty cagey about how it happened, only saying that he was dead and offering enough proof to collect the bounty. That had been something of a disappointment. Not just for Joy, but the others in her team who had been chafing with the lack of action. Still, they held together, a team forged by the cruel streets of the city.

  At least, mostly.

  November had come, and Fidel took his people through the portal with barely a word of warning. There had been a huge increase in the commercial activity on the other side, what people were calling Earth Gimel. Fidel wasn’t bringing them there for that though, rather he intended to establish a small commune free from the shackles of authority.

  At least, that was how he explained it. Joy had a feeling he was wary of their closer cooperation with the PRT and wanted an excuse to cut ties. Then again, he had said that if the Terriers ever wanted to join them, they’d be welcome with open arms. As irritated as she’d been by their departure, she couldn’t help appreciating the offer.

  Whatchamacalit had gone with them, to Joy’s surprise. She hadn’t said anything about it, but when the day came she was with Fidel, carrying a few bags of gear through the portal. Like that, Joy was the only cape left in the Terriers.

  Alone.

  That had been four weeks ago. The chill of December had settled in now, frost lined the windows of the cars Joy passed as she walked up the street. There hadn’t been any snow yet, not like last year, but she wasn’t holding out hope for clear weather with the dark clouds overhead. Still, it was relatively nice out and allowed herself to enjoy the walk.

  She strode up to Papa’s house when she finally arrived and knocked on the door. A festive wreathe decorated it, and colourful lights shone out into the rapidly darkening evening. She hadn’t expected it to be that decorated, but it was charming, homey. The door opened and Papa’s face appeared, clearly surprised to see her.

  “Hey,” Joy greeted him with a smile. “Merry Christmas Papa.”

  “Merry Christmas Eve,” Papa replied with a nod. “How you doing Joy?”

  “Doing okay,” she said. “Um, is Zeke around? I was kind of hoping to hang out with him.” He studied her quietly, then a smile touched his lips.

  “Come on in,” he said, turning around. “Just finished eating, but there’s some leftovers if you’re hungry. You want a cup of coffee?”

  “That’d be amazing, thank you,” she said happily, following him in and kicking off her boots. The place smelled great, whatever they’d had for dinner must have been delicious. “How are you and Zeke? Any trouble?”

  “Trouble?” Papa scoffed. “Not since your bunch made yourselves scarce. Appreciate that, by the way. I don’t like having to fill bullet holes.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  He chuckled as he led her into the living room. The atmosphere was festive, with a well-decorated tree sitting in the corner, and the room was far from empty. Zeke greeted her excitedly, dragging her to the couch where a black girl with her hair in dozens of braids sat. Jeep and J-Dog were there too, sitting on a couple of chairs brought in from the kitchen.

  “Glad you came by,” Zeke said as they sat. “Ain’t a real holiday til the whole fam’s here.”

  “Thanks Zeke,” Joy replied, giving him a quick hug. “I figured...you know, been a while. No better time to stop by though.”

  “True that,” Zeke said, nodding.

  “Hey, you gonna introduce me to your side-piece?” the girl asked sarcastically, eyeing Joy.

  “Ah shit, sorry,” he said bashfully. “Joy, this is Monica, my girlfriend. Monica, Joy, she and I used to run the streets together.”

  “Used to,” Joy said with a shrug. “Was a long time ago.”

  “Man it’s only been like a year,” Zeke said, elbowing her.

  “I guess,” she sighed. “Feels like a hell of a lot longer.”

  “When you’re in the shit, it’ll feel like that,” Papa commented as he walked over, offering Joy a mug. “Time stretches out, a week feels like a month, right?”

  “Yeah,” she agreed, taking the coffee and taking a sip. “Thanks Papa.”

  “No sweat,” he replied, ruffling her hair and heading to his armchair.

  “So you some kinda gangster?” Monica asked, cocking her head.

  “Joy’s the meanest motherfucker this side of the West Side,” Zeke said, punching Joy’s shoulder.

  “Don’t exaggerate,” Joy said, shaking her head. “Just a takedown crew for villains, or people the PRT won’t deal with.”

  “Oh shit, you mean capes?” Monica’s eyes widened and her voice carried a note of fear.

  “Yeah,” Joy confirmed. “It’s not that bad, we’re all pretty experienced.”

  “Not exactly a level playing field,” she said.

  “Oh man it used to be though,” Zeke said. “Back when Amaranth was running the crew we were unstoppable. Too bad she’s in lockup, ain’t gonna get to share the tree this year.”

  “Yeah,” Joy said glumly, her heart aching. What she wouldn’t give to see her friend again…

  “The fuck?!” Papa exclaimed, jolting upright in his seat.

  Joy twisted her neck, then leaped from the couch and drew her concealed pistol from her concealed holster. A glowing, rectangular portal had opened at the end of the living room, familiar and foreboding. Joy’s hands shook as she aimed towards the light. Cauldron. They’d left her alone until now, but it seemed they were coming to collect on old debts. Well she wasn’t going to—

  “Hey Joy,” a raspy, familiar voice said as a short silhouette emerged from the portal, her grey sweats branding her as a villain. “It’s been a while.” Her pistol dropped from her shaking hands and she managed to breathe one word before falling to her knees and bursting into tears.

  “Lia.”