Taylor bent forwards, hands on knees, so that she could look Dinah in the eye. “I’m sorry, did you lose your parents?” she asked. In all likelihood Dinah had attached herself to her group of sisters because they were close to her age and probably safe. It was better than having a preteen wandering around on her own.

Dinah shook her head. “I know where my parents are,” she replied. “No, being with them isn’t safe.”

Taylor felt herself tensing for a moment. Her mind immediately went to some dark places before she plastered a smile on. Unfortunately, Cheshire spoke first. “Ya need me ta kick y’er parents in the cooch?”

Sighing, Taylor placed a hand on Cheshire’s head and began smoothing the girl’s hair back. For some reason that Taylor couldn’t fathom, patting the girl’s head was a great way to shut her up. “That’s enough, Cheshire.”

Dinah smiled rather shyly but shook her head. “No, my parents are great. They’re the best. It’s the bad men I need to hide from. The numbers say that being near you means I’ll be safe.”

“The numbers?” Crochet asked. She tilted her head to one side to better examine the new girl in the group. “What numbers?”

Dinah gestured to the side of her head. “The numbers I hear. Not hear-hear, but sorta see in my head when people ask questions. They work when I ask questions too. But if I ask too many they get loud and complicated and start to hurt a lot. So I can only ask to see so many numbers.” Dinah took a long breath. “Anyway, they said that you would keep me safe from the bad men.”

Taylor, with a sinking heart, realised that the girl was quite possibly insane, and that she was likely the most qualified individual in the immediate vicinity when it came to dealing with insane little girls.

“Right,” Taylor said. “Well, how about we go see your parents and see where we can go from there?”

Dinah looked away, her eyes going a bit glassy for a moment before she nodded with the kind of serious face that only a preteen could wear. “Okay.”

“Good, now where’s your mommy?” Reaching out, Taylor was about to pat the girl on the head when two hands and a bright pink ribbon simultaneously wrapped themselves around her arm, all tugging her hand away from Dinah’s head. “What?”

Cheshire had a hand around Taylor’s wrist, Pop was holding her upper arm, and the ribbon was tugging her elbow away. “No,” Cheshire said gravely. “Headpats are for little sisters.” Her other two sisters nodded in silent agreement.

Dinah giggled and Taylor decided to give up. It wasn’t worth it. “My mom’s over there by that boutique,” Dinah said as she pointed off to her right.

“Okay, come on.” Taylor herded her flock of little sisters with a few pats and some waving. Dinah fell in with the others. Taylor wondered if her power included some sort of Master ability over little sisters, but one look at Cheshire with her finger jammed up her nose killed that line of thought.

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They were nearly at the Boardwalk when Taylor heard a car slowing to a stop next to them. She turned in time to see a panel van rumbling up alongside her group of girls. The door at its side was torn open and three men jumped out.

A scream caught in her throat as the first man with a balaclava shoved her back, sending her stumbling onto her rear on the sidewalk. There was screaming, from her sisters but also from Dinah and then the voice of one man joined in it.

When she looked up again she found that two Pops were standing on both sides of one man, both of them sheathing their knives with a flick and click while the man looked down at the stumps where his arms had been. “You will not touch Onee-sama with your filthy gaijin hands.”

The disarmed man was tugged back into the van by one of his companions while the other pulled out a gun and aimed it at the girls. They all froze for a few long seconds while a fourth jumped out and reached for Dinah.

Cheshire growled and pulled a kitchen knife from somewhere.

The man fired and Taylor flinched back; the noise was so loud it felt like she’d been slapped in the ears.

Cheshire rematerialized before him and stabbed the knife into the gun. “Bitch!” she screamed before punching him in the crotch. It didn’t seem to do much, but the man’s retaliatory backhand didn’t do anything either as it passed through Cheshire.

Dinah screamed and kicked as she was grabbed, but cut off when a few ribbons wrapped themselves around the thug’s throat and started digging into his skin. He pulled back, hands scrambling for purchase against pink unicorn covered cloth.

“Pull back!” someone yelled from the passenger seat of the car. The men were quick to move back into the van; the door slammed shut and with a squeal of rubber on asphalt, the van rushed away and through a red light at the end of the road.

Taylor was panting even though her part of the action was little more than a stumble and fall. “Is everyone okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” Dinah said, surprisingly calm all things considered.

“Yeah,” Cheshire added. She was looking at the knife still jammed through a handgun in her hand. The two were fused together and even her prying wasn’t helping them apart.

One of the Pops faded to ash while the other pulled her knife out and began to clean it with a piece of cloth.

“B-Big Sis?”

Taylor felt the world freeze.

Crochet had been at the back of the group, a little way away from all the rest. In the path of the gunshot.

Teary eyes rose up to look at Taylor while bloody hands were pressed against her tummy.

“Oh no,” Dinah said.