Weekends tended to be sleep-in days for Jess. That Sunday morning, slowly stirring to life in her own bed was no different. Eyes still closed, she reached to her nightstand to check her phone, but couldn't find it. She rubbed the crust from her eyelashes and squinted through the bright morning light. Her phone was no where around her room, so she threw a pair of sweats on and went downstairs, where it must have been laying by the couch or on one of the counters.

Elizabeth was already wide awake, finished with breakfast, and about to head out the door for work. "Dad's working late today, you'll have to figure out lunch. Maybe dinner too."

"Okay," Jess responded, only half listening as she checked between the couch cushions.

"But he said he'll be available tomorrow morning to drive you to work. He has the day off. I'm working the night shift tonight, so don't even think about texting me. For anything."

This time, Jess was too busy scoping the kitchen counters and dining room table for her phone, while trying to remember the last time she saw it.

She almost had a head-on collision with her sister around the corner.

"Are you listening?" Elizabeth hissed at her.

Reigning in her irritated groan to not set off her sister, she gave a polite nod. That's when Elizabeth pulled her phone out of her purse.

Before letting Jess take it back, she said: "You know withholding evidence is a crime, right?"

She wanted to ask her what she had done. She wanted to scream at her for taking the phone right off her nightstand and going through it while she slept. But she swallowed her hysteria long enough for Elizabeth to decide to give the phone back.

Nothing had been deleted or changed, but there was a new email in her account that someone else had sent. An email to the Skjolden Police Department, including multiple photos and one video attachment.

Jess sunk onto the couch. She wondered when the police would show up at Sigyn's door, and when she would figure out she was to blame.

Sigyn could not understand why the officer's eyes almost pocketed out of their skulls when she showed them her weapon storage [https://img.wattpad.com/5ada118588a2a1a185464e734b93ba44928192c9/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f47344257454579715345534176673d3d2d313436303234303731312e313766643438626337666531393130363236333537303838303037352e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Sigyn could not understand why the officer's eyes almost pocketed out of their skulls when she showed them her weapon storage. As much as she didn't understand one of the stuttering men asking her to present legal documentation or some nonsense like that.

"Can I ask: what are you planning to do with them?" Chief Mikkelson asked, regarding the fully automatic rifles.

"Nothing special," Sigyn answered. "I've never owned guns before. I thought they were cool. Is that a crime?"

"Yes, actually. In many countries across Europe," Mikkelson replied. "We also need to know how you got them across the border and who supplied them."

Sigyn huffed. "I can't understand the problem. They're very practice for self-defense."

"No, they're practical for killing a large group of people quickly. That's the problem."

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"If that's a problem, it sounds like more people need guns handy. To stop that from happening."

Chief Mikkelson couldn't help laugh. "Have you ever visited the United States? You'd fit right in." The officers around them also chuckled. "You think it would solve everything if everyone had guns? No one would take advantage of that power?"

"Well, not if there was the chance of them getting shot."

Mikkelson shook his head. "So violence is subdued by more violence. And more, and more and more."

The Chief said it like it was ridiculous, but it was the world Sigyn always knew. Those with power kept it by force, and those without any power kept their heads down and out of the way. No one had guns, of course, but it kept things far from peaceful.

Things were so different here. So many different problems. The status quo upheld by an endless list of laws rather than brute force. Maybe things were better here. If everyone had a little bit of power, the playing field was truly equal, and anyone could end up on top.

The words "We'll have to ask you more questions at the station" snapped Sigyn from her thoughts. All the officers stared at her, waiting for a response.

"In town?" she asked. "I don't think that's necessary. We can talk more here. Kark can bring us up some drinks-"

"Unfortunately, you are now a suspect," Mikkelson interrupted, "and you will have to be brought to the station for interrogation."

The only thought in Sigyn's mind was shit shit shit shit shit! on repeat. Anything she did that was not complying could put her in more danger, so she let the Chief handcuff her and guide her outside to the waiting cars with no struggle.

On her way out, she caught a glimpse of Kark, face white as a sheet. Playing cool, she gave him a coy smile, but they both knew she wouldn't last long if she was taken off the mountain.

Jon had survived tense encounters during his time in the states. Nutjobs running half-naked in the street waving baseball bats, and paranoid war veterans barricading themselves in their house with an AR-17 thinking the police outside were terrorists. Nothing more than the occasional disorderly drunk happened in this sleepy Norwegian town. Leading Miss Ransdottr by the arm was the most uneasy he felt since coming here. It felt like he was back in the states, knowing even the most ordain patrol could get flipped on it's head in a matter of seconds.

Upon climbing into the back seat, warm air assaulted her face. She flinched away from the vents, but she couldn't escape the heat radiating from the very cushions. "I don't suppose we could blast the A.C.?" she asked the Chief as he sat behind the wheel.

Jon raised an eyebrow, glancing at the uncomfortable girl in the rearview mirror. It was freezing outside, and she was complaining about the warm car? "You may roll down one window."

Driving down the mountain, the breeze did little to ease the sweat dripping down her forehead. Heat was consuming her. Across her skin, through her veins. Her lungs felt like they were being steamed from the inside out with every breath of the muggy air.

"Everything okay?" Jon asked, noticing her in the rearview mirror.

She hummed a confirmation, moving her head as little as possible. "I get carsick."

It was partially true - she did get horrible car-sickness, but a little nausea was the least of her worries at they entered the town. The man on the car radio was saying today just so happened to be one of the warmest summer days on record.

When they reached the station, Sigyn was drenched in sweat. Her hair stuck to her face, and her eyelids couldn't quite stay opened. Jon took her arm to help her out of the car, and recoiled upon feeling her icy cold skin. The last time he felt skin that cold was in the coroners office.

Officer Dahl, who arrived at the station just behind them, walked over to the car. "Everything alright, Chief?"

"I think she's having some kind of episode. On one hand, she's sweating, and at the same time she's ice-cold."

They elected to bring Sigyn inside to examine her more closely. The girl was limp between their arms, dragging her feet on the sidewalk. To Sigyn, between the scorching sun and boiling concrete below, the whole world was melting.

The officers laid her on a couch in the office. Officer Dahl gathered a few blankets to throw over her, but Sigyn weakly pushed them off, muttering the word "melting".

"No sweetheart, you're not melting," Dahl reassured her. "You brain is tricking you to think your really hot. Once we can get you warm, you'll feel better."

Sigyn shook her head. The stupid humans would never understand.

Officer Dahl took a closer look at the thin, sleeveless, low-cut blouse Sigyn had been wearing. "How long was she outside for?"

"That's the thing - she wasn't," Jon replied. "After we finished in the office I brough her straight to the car."

"Was she outside at all before we got there?"

"I don't know, but she was fine up until we started driving."

"This looks like late-stage hypothermia, but I've never heard of the symptoms being delayed." Dahl shook her head and looked at Jon. "I think we should call for help."