Webs We Weave



Chapter Twenty-Three

DISCLAIMER :: This tale blends together aspects of Peter Parker/Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy/Ghost Spider/Spider-Gwen from Marvel Comics, Marvel Television, and Marvel Studios. Fanfiction? Sort of. The world and characters are mine, but they may seem familiar.

Author's note: This chapter is being released early to celebrate the release of Spider-Man: Brand New Day!

(( Chapter Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BFqtasnu7y8 ))

The door to the roof swung open and I strode out. Maven had braided my hair so that it fit under the mask easily. I was learning to do it myself but I wasn’t up to her level yet. The suit, boots, and gloves had all been slipped on while I was in my room. The hood was down and I hadn’t put the mask on yet. Maven was positioned on the roof with her arms folded. Matcha and Salty nearly leapt out of their own skin when they first saw me come through the door.

“Holy shit, this is fucking amazing! You look badass!” Salty’s voice cracked a little from excitement. “I can’t believe I’m seeing this up close and personal!”

I shrugged. “I haven’t even put the mask on or the hood up. It’s not the total package.”

“Oh my god, girl! You are eatin’ wit’ dat!” Matcha joined the compliment train.

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled and blushed a little.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Seer…” She cleared her throat. “Silk Warden.”

My smile broadened and ran from ear to ear. Without hesitation, I slipped on the mask and snapped it into the system. After pulling the hood over my head and doing the same, I glanced at the group. “How do I look?”

“Like the hero we need but not the one we deserve.” Matcha stated breathlessly.

They couldn’t see the epic eye roll. “Whatever you say, Alfred.”

“Good luck. Bring them and yourself home safe.” Maven pleaded.

I gave her a quick nod. “Got it.”

Like my other patrols, I took a couple running steps and leapt across the street. Salty continued to freak out while watching me do my thing until he couldn’t see me anymore. When I got down to the end of the block, there was a building tall enough to swing from. I made an effort to generate enough momentum to execute the swing southward. It mostly worked. I still had to run along a lot of roofs as I made my way down 6th Avenue.

“This is why they always film scenes in Midtown. Buildings are taller.” I grumbled to myself while in transit.

Thankfully, the buildings were getting taller once I got to King Street. From there, I was swinging as much as I could. I was under a two-factor cloak: New Yorkers don’t look up and the color of my suit provided the camouflage once the sun went down. I’m almost certain I freaked out a cabby or two as I was traveling against the one-way traffic direction. Crossing Canal Street was a pain in the ass, but I figured it out. Soon, I was in the building alleys of Lower Manhattan. When I saw the Jenga Tower, I turned toward the west, swung along the brutalist monstrosity that is the AT&T Long Lines Building, and came to a stop on top of 93 Worth. To keep a more stealth approach, I jumped over Broadway to the red brick building across the way. From there, it was a bit of a leap-frog with the shape of the apartment building beyond. Finally, I could get a look at much of the federal building. The back side along Broadway was already a no-go according to the plan.

Through the lenses, my eyes landed on the glass box of the U.S. Court of International Trade. The irony of the Triumph of the Human Spirit sculpture and fountain across the street in Foley Square did not escape me. Averting my eyes to the space between the court and the federal building, I could see the skybridge plain as day. Only one problem: the upper most traversal was on the fifth floor, not the eighth. According to the schematics, the fifth floor was the offices of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. My nerves started spiking. For several minutes, I paced the rooftop of 111 Worth questioning all of my life’s choices.

The moment I breached the skybridge windows, there was almost certainly going to be alarms. I’d have to get through the thugs to get to the stairwell. Impeding them from accessing the stairwell was almost certainly going to hinder the escape plans. With the alarms sounding, the Federal Protection Service was going to activate and the Federal Bureau of Investigations would also mobilize. It would turn into a clusterfuck quicker than I needed it to. There wasn’t a single doubt that “the vigilante known as Silk Warden” would absolutely make several “most wanted” lists.

On the other hand, if I didn’t get people out of there, the conditions inside or in other detainment facilities would be terrible. People previously detained in the building had documented subpar living conditions. There were no beds. Only cement benches and hard floors. Not to mention, most people were innocent. Their only crime was being an immigrant. Furthermore, my family was in there. Tightening my fists, I ran for the building ledge and jumped.

With the assistance of my HUD, I calculated my trajectory. Throwing out a line, I grabbed hold and descended toward the skybridge. My convictions were solid. When I reached the equilibrium position of the swing, I pulled my knees closer to my chest. Letting go of the web line at the precise moment to turn potential energy into kinetic energy, my body was flung toward the glass. Extending my legs at just the right moment, I burst through the glass pane. Immediately, I threw out a very short line against the ceiling to arrest my momentum, did a little flip, and landed on the linoleum floor of the interior of the skybridge.

For one glorious second, there was nothing but the sound of my own breathing. I thought, ‘Oh, good. No alarms attached to these windows. I’m in the clear.’

The building almost seemed to sigh. ‘Oh, you’re adorable,’ I could almost sense it saying before the clarion call of the alarm broke the silence.

My heart sank. ‘Damn it.’

Quickly recollecting, I stood and marched straight toward the doors into the federal building. Bursting through the doors with purpose, I narrowed my eyes and relied on my senses. Pausing for a moment in the stale corridor, I felt nothing. Turning to the left and heading toward the stairwell, I left behind some very busted doors. The alarms were going off with intense volume all around me and red lights blinked on and off. It felt a lot like the depictions of the Red Alert situations on a television show and several movies. Something told me they got the wrong message from Star Trek.

After stepping through the stairwell door, I coated the whole thing with a layer of webbing in an effort to make it impassable. Satisfied with my work, I went about making my way up five more floors. One leap after another, I bounded off the walls of the stairwell and made my way up. It was easier than I thought it would be. Simple geometry, really. As I neared the ninth floor, a tingle ran up my spine. Instead of continuing the bound upward, I stopped myself just above the door. Three armed persons burst through it and rushed downward. It appeared as though they believed I was still down on the fifth floor. I could use that.

Before they moved into a position where they might see me, I continued my wall bounding up to the tenth floor. With the slow rise of the tingle running up my spine, I knew there would be a few people on the floor. Landing on the cement rectangle, I moved to glance out the little window in the door. The coast was clear, but my senses were telling me that it still wasn’t safe. I carefully opened the door and kept low to the ground. The sameness of the walls turned the whole building into one big maze—never mind that it smelt like industrial cleaner and stale coffee. The tingling reached my cranium. Without even thinking about it, my hand reached out, shot a web line, and activated the electrical current. One security camera was out of commission.

Glancing at the handiwork, I noticed signs for the first time. A blue and white arrow pointed down a hallway and was marked “Administrative Processing”. It made enough sense to my brain that following it was a good idea. Following the signs and moving down the hallway, I zapped a few more cameras. The sign told me to turn right and I obliged. I found myself on the wrong end of two service pistols. Two men in their thirties wearing plain clothes and black tactical vests started advancing on me.

“Freeze! HSI!” One yelled at me. “The fuck is this? Halloween’s not for three more months!”

“Hands where we can see them, lady!” The other yelled.

Thinking quickly, I tapped a spot on my chin that engaged the microphone and voice modulator before speaking. “Guess you guys haven’t heard of me. I’m Silk Warden, by the way.”

“HANDS! UP! BITCH!”

“See, now that’s uncalled for.” I groaned before shooting a couple of lines at them. The lines attached to their weapons. One strong pull and they were both disarmed. “I’d love to stay and chat, boys, but I’m a little fucking busy.”

A new set of lines shot at them and attached to their faces. One strong pull and they lumbered forward. Their heads smacked into the floor and bounced.

“Occupational hazard, boys. Turns out backward baseball caps have terrible impact ratings.”

Not taking the time to determine whether they were rendered unconscious or assessing broken noses, I vaulted over them and moved further down the hallway. The sign was still guiding me. One more hallway turn and I finally lay eyes on the glass-encased processing center surrounded by holding cells. There were five men inside. One was behind a computer. Two were sitting in chairs in the periphery talking about whatever was making them laugh. One was pounding on a cell door for some reason. The last one was positioned at the entrance with gradually widening eyes when they spotted me. The patches on their tactical vests all read: Police, ICE.

My eyes narrowed on them. The shutters followed suit. My hands formed fists and tightened. My jaw clenched. An all-consuming desire for vengeance filled my heart.

My feet carried me forward with purpose. They hit the ground and the cement shuddered. I strode toward them and the guy at the door screamed to the others. He raised his firearm in my direction. My demeanor didn’t change. When I reached the door, I didn’t even check whether or not it was locked. I punched through the reinforced glass, grabbed the metal door, yanked it off its hinges, and tossed it behind me like it kicked a puppy.

“Jesus fucking Christ, what is that?!” The one with the raised firearm screamed at a very high pitch for a grown man.

“Somebody you shouldn’t have fucked with.” I growled through the voice modulation.

“Shoot her, dumb fuck!” A second man shouted.

I saw the muzzle flash. The world around me seemed to slow down. The round the front man fired erupted from the muzzle and started moving toward me. I simply stepped to the side. A second muzzle flash enveloped the area. I could hear people screaming, but slowly. I ducked under the second bullet. This continued for what felt like a minute. The last bullet that emptied the guy’s clip wasn’t dodged. I smacked it away. It was almost scary how fast I was moving. The speed of the world returned to normal.

“Did… did that bitch just dodge fucking bullets?!” One of the other guys asked.

“And I ripped a reinforced door off its hinges.” I growled. “Think of what I could do to you. I’m going to give you one chance—”

My speech was interrupted by a tingle running up my spine. The world slowed again as my head turned to see a punch slowly coming at me. I reached up and caught it. The world returned to normal. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“I just dodged bullets and your plan was a sucker punch? Not a great plan.”

I squeezed and could hear the bones in his hand breaking. He screamed in pain and I let go. The tingle ran up my spine and into my head. A second man started firing his weapon at me. Again, I dodged each shot. I don’t even remember how, to be honest. To make the whole situation feel even more outlandish, my arm shot out and a web line flew straight into his gun between shots. It clogged and the world returned to normal. I simply yanked the line and pulled the gun from his stunned grasp.

“If you’re done, gentlemen, I am humbly requesting you fuck off. Get out of here. Scram. Whine to your superiors about how a ‘little girl’ crushed your buddy’s hand. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

The guy that had been pounding on the cell door stepped forward. “You’re under arrest for assault on a federal officer.”

I scoffed. “You’re joking, right?” They couldn’t see it, but my eyes rolled hard. “Geezus, you guys aren’t even half as well trained as a mall cop and twice as stupid.”

The bravest of the bunch reached into his belt and pulled a collapsible baton, then swung his arm to deploy it. “Are you going to come quietly or do we have to do this the hard way?”

A tingle ran up my spine and I turned toward the warning. One of the guys had moved into a flanking position and fired off his taser. The ends impacted my suit and he pulled the trigger. I almost laughed. Questions played across his face. He turned his taser to the side and looked at it to make sure it was functioning correctly.

“Buddy, the whole thing is a giant, wearable capacitor. I’d explain the science, but I left my crayons in my other pants.”

The brave one that had been pounding on the cell door earlier decided that was the time to bum rush me. He rallied the other two with him to charge. The world once again slowed to a crawl. I limboed under the swing of the baton and came back up to headbutt the wielder. After that, I dropped and decided a spinning leg sweep would be hilarious. It did not disappoint. As the three bodies were slowly falling, I jumped to the side and planted my feet on the wall. A line was shot out of my regulators and impacted the taser guy. I don’t know how many volts went into him, but it wouldn’t have been enough to kill him. He screamed and fell to the ground. The other three, I moved to restrain with my silk. They were wrapped five times and tied off. They squirmed a lot. The world returned to normal speed. I stood over the three tied together.

“Boys, that silk is probably about ten times stronger than steel. Resistance is futile.” I offered an unseen smirk.

The room was finally mine. Against the doors and windows of the holding cells, I could hear a lot of muffled cheers. Finally able to feast my eyes on the scene, it was apparent the overcrowding rumors were true. There had to be about eighty or so people in the four cells meant to house no more than twenty-two. I gave the ICE agents a glare they couldn’t see before moving to the doors. I learned I could punch through steel that night. It was the only way to get the doors off the hinges, based on the engineering. Every time I pulled off a door, I asked about my friends in Spanish. They were not in the first two cells. I told everyone to stay inside until I could make sure the hallways were clear.

In the third cell, I found a collection of women ranging in age from fourteen to thirty-six.

“Marisol?” I called out with Spanish inflection.

Jefa stood up and looked at me. “How do you know my name?”

I didn’t wait. I crossed the room to her and pulled her into a hug. She was very confused.

“Do I know you, chica?”

“I’ll explain later. Where are Chispa, Lowkey, and Peach?”

Something flickered in her eyes. “They took Chispa away. I don’t know about Lowkey or Peach. They keep the men separate.”

“Stay here for a minute. Everybody’s getting out, but I have to clear the way first.”

“You got it, hero.” She smirked.

Moving on to the last cell, its door was also ripped off. I didn’t have to call for Peach. He was huddled in a corner with his knees to his chest. After instructing the other men in Spanish to stay put until I could ensure their safety, I crossed to Peach. I hugged him as well.

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Peach. Where’s Lowkey?” I asked in a calming tone.

He almost recoiled from my embrace. “They took him. I dunno where.”

“We’re going home, Peach. You’re gonna be okay. Alright?”

He raised his head to look at me. “Who are you?”

He couldn’t see the smile on my face. “Family.”

Leaving him to ruminate on that fact, I turned and left the cell. They were all the same. The walls and floor were tile with a drain in the middle of the room. The benches were formed concrete. There was nothing soft for them to sleep on. The only thing they could cover up with were silver rescue blankets. The toilets were behind a comically short half wall. It got my blood boiling again.

While moving to check the hallway, a strong tingle ran up my spine and into my cranium. I poked my head into the T-junction and nearly got it blown off by gunfire. There were a lot of agents moving in on the position from both directions of the hallway. I conjectured there were more than ten of them, but it was a rough estimate. Breaking into that place had become the most brave and stupid thing I’d ever done up to that point. The most important detail I remember seeing was the riot shields held up in front of each pack on either end of the hallway. I could use that.

Taking a few steps back into the detainment area, I took a quick breath, questioned more life choices, and got into a sprint. After a couple of steps, I fell into a slide like a baseball player. My feet firmly planted against the far wall of the corridor, I started firing off webs that stuck to the riot shields. They hadn’t anticipated the low angle, so nobody fired their weapons. Lines attached, I jumped backward into a flip with the aim of landing on my feet. Simultaneously, I pulled the lines. The six men with riot shields came barreling down the corridor and collided with one another. I could almost hear bowling pins being knocked over in my head. The next few seconds were a blur of fists, feet, and bouncing off the walls. Ten men lay in the corridor unconscious or groaning.

Unfortunately, the bodies were blocking the exit. I had to think quickly. The only thing behind me was the cinderblock of the holding cells. The one immediately behind me was the one Jefa was in. I strode right up to the back wall and started knocking on the cinderblocks.

“What are you doing? We have to get out of here.” Jefa tried to instill a sense of urgency that was already in me.

“Trying to find the reinforced cells. If I’m gonna make like the Kool-Aid Man and bust through this wall, I can’t disturb the structural supports or the whole building could collapse. Please be quiet so I can listen.” I requested. As soon as I found a spot, I turned back to Jefa. “Get everyone back. There’s going to be some dust and a little debris that blows back.”

She nodded and started orchestrating the evacuation from the room. The tingle up my spine was growing stronger. Reinforcements were on their way. It wasn’t precise enough to clue me in to how many might be showing up. We had very little time. With the room clear, I took a few steps back, breathed quickly to gather courage, then ran at the wall. I closed my eyes as I blasted through the cinderblock. I stopped on the other side when the resistance was gone. Opening my eyes, I was greeted by a lot of windows. I’d found myself on the southern end of the building, facing Duane Street. Immediately, I searched for an escape route. The art deco styling of the Ted Weiss Federal Building was nice and all, but its limestone walls were too sheer. I could walk on them and not think twice. Eighty frightened detainees couldn't. The Health Department roof was roughly level with us, which made it useless for a gravity-assisted zip line. That left one option: the old red-brick tenement across the way. If I anchored the line high enough, the catenary sag would carry everyone into the grassy courtyard with a reasonably soft landing.

I turned back to the cells and met up with Jefa again. “How do you feel about zip lines?”

She balked. “Are you crazy?”

“Jury’s still deliberating. Our best chance is out the windows. With the full Red Alert going on, they’ve probably shut down all elevators and are using the stairwells for traversal or setting up traps. Out the window is our only option. Don’t worry, though. It’s all math and I’m really good at math.”

“From the tenth floor?!”

“Yep. Tell everyone to grab their emergency blankets and follow me, please.”

While Jefa spoke with the detainees, I put up some webbing in the corridor at either end. It may not completely stop determined federal agents, but it would hold them off for a minute. Taking in a deep breath, I looked out the window and did the math. Anchoring the line to the roof of the red brick building and allowing enough slack in the line for the catenary curve hadn’t been included in the Trigonometry Regents exam, but life’s funny that way. To accommodate the tension, I’d have to combine the lines from both wrists for a thick enough silk cable. I couldn’t remember ever shooting off a line as long as I was about to attempt, but lives were counting on my success. I had to get it right the first time. No pressure.

First, I had to punch out a window. Wind rushed in to equalize the air pressure as the building was now exposed to the winds that whipped through Lower Manhattan almost constantly. The gust was enough to push me back a half step. It could have been really bad if the detention cells had been higher up in the building. Clearing that thought from my mind, I knocked away the remaining glass. The sounds of hundreds of sirens joined the rhythmic Red Alert alarm from inside the building. Glancing over toward Foley Square, I suspected the source of the tingling was the growing mass of NYPD vehicles converging on the area.

Focusing on the task at hand, I pressed both my wrists together, positioned my hands, and flexed. Two lines became one and flew across the expanse at breakneck speed. The far end did connect with the roof in question and I let a little slack form in the line. It dawned on me I’d been holding my breath, so I let it out. Calculating roughly the right amount of slack for the catenary curve plus a little extra for securing the ends, I cut off production and took hold of the cable I’d created. Next problem: anchor point in the building. Thankfully, a freestanding concrete pillar stood just inside the window. I wrapped the cable around it several times before tying it off.

Jefa approached with a line of detainees behind her. “Okay, now what?”

Completing the tying, I turned to her. “I’m going to go first to make sure that the line holds. All goes well, you’re going to start sending people down the line, women and children first. Make sense?”

“I mean, I guess, but why the rescue blankets?”

With a sigh, I turned to the others and asked for one of the blankets to demonstrate. “Mira aquí, por favor.” I called out to the others. Then, began the complex instructions in Spanish and demonstrated on the line itself.

“~Take your blanket and twist it up. This will stop it from breaking on the way down the line. Then, drape it over this line. Once you do that, take both ends with your thumbs and roll your wrists at least three times. That will keep your hands from slipping free of the blanket, causing you to fall. When you get to the bottom, let go of the blanket, drop, and roll in the grass across the street. Get out of the way as soon as you can so you don’t get hurt by the next person. Everybody understand?~” The few people in front of me slowly nodded like they weren’t so sure about this plan. “~Good. Please instruct the others. This is how we’re going to get you free. Keep families together. Once you have your family, go to the subway. Everybody is going home tonight.~”

The smiles made the endeavor worth it. I handed the blanket back to the person I’d borrowed it from and turned back to the line. Standing at the precipice, I took in a deep, quick breath, grabbed the line, and started down it. It was about as exhilarating as a swing but at a slower speed. I didn’t get to enjoy it very long. About halfway down, a tingle ran up my spine, the far end came loose, and I fell about four and a half stories to the pavement below. Yes, I screamed. When I hit the pavement, instinct took over. My knees bent, I tucked into a roll, and somehow managed to bleed off enough momentum to not be seriously injured. When I stood back up, I cursed to myself and moved to rectify the situation. I was certainly glad to have volunteered to go first. The results otherwise would have been catastrophic.

Taking the end of the silk cable and muttering a few choice expletives, I leapt onto the roof and tied it down properly. There was some sturdy metal railing bolted firmly to the brickwork that would suffice. Once I tied it off, I jumped back over to the federal building and climbed back up into the window. I could see that everyone was scared. I wasn’t going to quit. Once again, I took hold of the cable, breathed in and out, then descended on the line. It worked exactly as designed. I vaulted back up toward the window and climbed through for the final time.

I found Jefa in short order. “Okay, it’s fine now. Help everybody get their blankets right.”

“What are you going to do?” She asked as I passed.

“I’m going to make sure the feds are still sleeping soundly and the boys in blue don’t get any ideas.” I turned to head back into the building, but stopped myself. “And Jefa?” She glanced in my direction for a second. “Make sure Peach is okay?”

She nodded and I turned again. I missed the sight of most people going down the improvised zip line. Instead, I was fortifying the escape route. If I could help it, no one was getting to the tenth floor until everybody was long gone. I was using so much silk that my arms were starting to feel lighter. After doing what I could, I joined the others just in time to see the last few men ride the zip line down to the ground. Jefa and Peach stayed behind with me until the last detainee was down the line. Peach was really afraid of the idea of the line. Jefa cheered all the way down. I rode down with Peach on my back.

We were far from in the clear. The others had done as instructed and scattered as soon as they reunited with family and friends. The NYPD was all over the front of the building near Foley Square and Broadway at the back. They were starting to move in our direction down Duane Street because the parking garage for the building was not far from where we landed. Peach climbed off my back and we darted down the alleyway toward Reade Street. I knew from field trips back when I was a kid that there was a subway station for the A and C train over on Warren Street and Church Street to the west. I stayed with Jefa and Peach as much as I could.

From time to time, a bystander would ask why I was wearing a suit that looked like Silk Warden. I mostly just shrugged at them. The suit was so new, so I was trying to exercise a little plausible deniability while trying to get my friends back home safely. Thankfully, we got through the crowd and into the subway eventually. I’m sorry to admit: I hopped the turnstile. My MetroCard was also in my other pants.

Along the way, it dawned on me that I was still using the voice modulator, so I turned it off as I stood quietly protecting my friends. They sat in the seats and I stood in the middle aisle, keeping watch and being vigilant with my senses. At that time of night, the train car was practically empty and the ride was a brisk five minutes. Jefa asked me why I was escorting them to the shelter and not anyone else. I told them that everything would be explained back home. They both gave me a strange look with many questions behind their eyes.

Finally, we arrived back at Tír na nÓg. Maven was waiting at her desk when we entered. Matcha and Salty were in the sitting area and jubilantly hugged Jefa and Peach. Maven rounded her desk with tears in her eyes. After a few moments, no one else came through the door behind us.

“Where are Julia and Federico?” Maven spoke first.

I finally dropped the hood and pulled off the mask. “They weren’t there. Jefa and Peach told me they’d both been taken away. Nobody knows where.”

Jefa and Peach gasped, nearly losing their minds. “SEDA?!” They chorused.

“I told you everything would make sense when we got home, guys.” I nervously chuckled.

“You’re the Silk Warden chick?” Jefa pressed in disbelief.

“Yes. I am. Now you know.”

“That’s neither here nor there.” Maven interrupted. “We must find Julia and Federico. They are in grave danger.”

“No kidding. You weren’t there, guys. They were gonna keep us as long as they could in worse conditions than Riker’s. I didn’t think that was possible.” Jefa informed us. To the inquiring glances, she shook her head. “Long story. You don’t wanna know.”

“If it weren’t for Seda busting in and making all eighty of us escape down a zip line, we’d still be in there. They didn’t care, man. They punched me a couple of times when I tried telling them I’m a citizen and called me ‘fruity-ass queer’.”

Maven lay a hand on his shoulder and it started emitting a soft glow. “It is unfortunate to hear about their barbarism. Was there any way to discover what became of Julia and Federico?”

My eyes started to water and I sniffled. “Not that I’m aware of. I freed eighty people tonight and probably became a wanted felon. I beat up federal agents. I couldn’t wait around for the NYPD to clean up the mess. Getting those people out was my priority. I never even looked at a file or computer screen.”

Maven’s demeanor visibly sank. “I am sorry to keep assuming you had time to look at files. I’m worried, that’s all. I read the news. I know what they’re doing.”

“Nobody’s accusing you of being uninformed, Aunt Mae,” I reassured her softly.

“If only one of us knew a cop we could bend for some information. Somebody high up or something.” Salty wished at the ceiling.

My heart nearly stopped.

“Saoirse… you don’t—” Maven tried to comfort me.

“Yea, I really think I do.” I stated plainly.

“You gonna spill the tea, Seda, or you gonna sit there lookin’ like you seen a ghost?” Matcha probed.

My eyes met all of theirs. “My… my dad’s a cop. Captain. Seventy-Seventh Precinct.” My eyes landed on Maven. “I think I gotta go talk to my dad.”

Maven shook her head violently. “Not tonight, young lady. You’ll need a good, hearty breakfast and you’ve got school in the morning.”

“Fine. Tomorrow night. We’re running out of time, though. If we don’t—”

“I know, Saoirse. You’re only one person. Everything in its place and in its time, love.”