School, Anne reflected, seemed smaller.

Height wasn’t the only difference. Mrs. Coulter’s scowl might scare the others, but it didn’t compare to a Carnotaur.

She wondered, sometimes, if she should opt to test out, like Andrew. Give the FSAT early.

That thought was tempered by the realization that she wasn’t smart enough to skip two full years.

Things had been better since Dad woke up, and she could concentrate on her studies. It helped that he’d made the rounds of the school a few times, showed up at the PTA, and talked some sense into the more difficult teachers. Even wowed Mrs. Davies, and that was something she’d thought nobody could do.

With the other schools in Tanisport reopening now, Everard didn’t have to handle the total load of what was three seperate school districts. Those who lived farther away had transferred back to their old schools this year, leaving only the core population - the students who’d been Everarders since kindergarten, in some cases - around.

It made for a more desolate look.

Which brought her to this day. August 1st. First day of tenth grade.

Back to school after a gap of two months.

She wondered if the English teacher would ask for an essay. What I did on my Summer Vacation, by Anne Drake.

Solved a mystery.

Stopped a fight.

Made a friend. Made many friends.

Lost some of them.

Faced my foes.

Fought an enemy, fought ten thousand enemies.

Saved a few lives.

Learnt secrets. Lots of secrets, maybe more than she’d ever wanted to know.

Forged friendships in fire.

Faced fears.

Grew a little.

She strolled by a row of lockers. Old – and somewhat familiar.

One in particular. The nametag had been removed, of course.

One year ago, it had spelt out AVRA HIRSCH.

“Queen of the wind and the seas,” she whispered. “Rest in peace.”

“Pieces is more like it,” a sharp voice interrupted.

Predictable, Anne thought, that her nemesis would show up. “Wanda. What do you want?”

Wanda Mears hardly seemed to have changed over the past year. The girl wore the same scowl that she’d greeted Anne with, the day everything changed. She leaned against one of the other lockers. “Just passing by. Do you usually talk to furniture?”

“None of your business.”

“Kitten grew a spine, eh? Where’s that overmuscled oaf you have hanging around?”

“My brother?”

Wanda sneered. “You don’t have a brother. They’ll figure that out, too, eventually.”

A tiny spike of fear gripped at her heart. “What are you talking about?”

“Please. You get off the roof, and the next time I see you, there’s a muscle-bound teen hanging around? I’m only surprised he didn’t buy it in one of the raids.” She shrugged. “It’s only a matter of time, though. They’ll find him – and you – and kill you both.”

Almost involuntarily, Anne formed a line of nanobots into a spike. Right above Wanda’s head.

It would be so easy. Stab down.

But – that wasn’t who she was. Who the Drakes were.

She forced herself to stay calm. “I have no idea what you mean. Or who ‘they’ are.”

“Oh, please. I saw pictures of the funeral. It was just you and your father. No signs of Andrew back then, so where’d he come from?” Wanda shrugged. “I suppose your dad reached out to his old friends. Got you one of the junior Grunters as a bodyguard, right?”

It took Anne a moment to process the words.

“What?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Wanda mocked, “it doesn’t suit you. I thought your mother was the only Grunter agent in the family; makes sense that your father would be, too.”

Anne forced herself to stay calm. “My mother wasn’t a Grunter agent.”

“Oh, please. If she wasn’t a Grunter agent, she wouldn’t have been in that shop.”

“My parents had nothing to do with the Grunters.”

Wanda smirked. “Really. Is that why your father was so eloquent at my aunt’s trial?”

“Your aunt?” Anne blinked. “What does she have to do with this?”

“My aunt,” Wanda’s mocking tone continued. “First person in the family to finish school, y’know? Straight A student, worked her way through, paid for my mom’s treatments through her pregnancy. Two years on the force.” Her voice turned bitter. “Then your mother’s friends attacked her station. All she did was defend herself and her fellow cops – and they crucified her for it.”

Pieces began to fall together – terrible, sharp, stabby pieces. “Your aunt was the one who shot my mom.”

“And your father stood in court and swore, his hand on the Bible, that your mother had never worked with the Grunters. That she was just a simple homemaker. An innocent bystander.” Wanda’s voice turned bitter. “And thanks to you, Clarisse Harper is in jail. A good woman, who only ever tried to help people.”

“My mother was a good person.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Did you know what the Grunters were doing at their mansion?” She chuckled. “Imagine how your mother would have felt. Or maybe she was one of the suppliers. Maybe your dad was one of the patrons.”

“… You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. Because your time is coming.” Wanda’s gaze turned positively gleeful. “They’ll come for you, too. The way they’ve taken out all of your friends.”

“You’d better not be threatening me, Wanda.”

“As if you’d ever dare to do anything.” The contempt in Wanda’s voice was palpable. “No, your ‘brother’ is the one who beats up kids. It’s too late, anyway.” She leaned forward, casually. “Did you know, there’s a publicly accessible e-mail address for Belessar?”

The surprise cost Anne control of her nanobots. Tinier than dust particles, they drifted downwards, the part of their controller’s brain overwhelmed by sheer shock.

Wanda’s smile turned nasty. “They say that Grunter bodies are turning up all over the city. Lasered to a crisp. What do you think Belessar will do, when he finds out that your parents were Grunters? Do you think he’ll spare you, or that fake brother of yours?”

“You e-mailed Belessar,” Anne mumbled, “telling him that… we were Grunters.”

“Of course. He’ll investigate you, of course. And … the truth will come out.” Wanda’s eyes gleamed. “You can hide from the school. You could hide from the school. But you can’t hide from Nanocloud. And when they find you, you’ll get the luck you truly deserve.”

A memory came to Anne’s mind, one of her brother’s random sayings.

Never interrupt an enemy when they are in the process of making a mistake.

“You know what, Wanda? You win.”

Wanda’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve won.” Anne took a deep breath. “If you’ve e-mailed Belessar the details – well, given his reputation I’d best keep an eye out, right? He could strike at any time.” She shrugged. “I appreciate the warning, though.”

Wanda’s expression turned to one of surprise. “I wasn’t warning you.”

“You were gloating, Wanda. You gave away the element of surprise – I mean, if you hadn’t told me, I’d have no idea that we were going to be hunted by Nanocloud.” She shuddered. “You didn’t plan on that, did you?”

“He’ll still find you. Kill you.”

“We’ll see.”

Wanda stilled. “I’m not telling you anything more.”

“Sensible. You know what? I think we shouldn’t talk anymore, Wanda.” Anne shrugged. “You don’t talk to me, I don’t talk to you, and we agree not to – how shall I put it? Acknowledge each other.”

“Go to hell.”

“Wishing you the same. Oh – and Wanda? Do you really care about Brad?”

“You’re not getting your hands on him,” the girl hissed.

“Then you’ll keep him away from me.” Anne smiled. “You won him, fair and square. He’s yours – for good.”

Wanda stilled. “You’re giving him up?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want someone I cared for being targeted by Belessar. He’s ruthless, right?” Anne shrugged. “Consider this a quid pro quo. You don’t send any more information about me – or Andrew – to any other superheroes. And you get to keep Brad.”

Wanda smirked. “You’re trading him to save your skin? The e-mail’s already been sent, Anne.”

“Yeah, I doubt you can undo that.” Anne shrugged. “Think of it as a way to keep things civil. You don’t send any more information to any superheroes – and Brad’s yours. I swear never to have anything to do with him. Never talk to him – assuming he doesn’t approach me – never call him, never date him. You have him all to yourself.”

She could see the wheels turn in Wanda’s head. And turn. And click into place.

The girl smiled nastily. “I swear not to send any more information to any superheroes about you. Or your dad. What I’ve sent to Belessar stays, though.”

Anne nodded. “Thanks, Wanda. This is the last conversation we’ll ever have. Goodbye.”

The other girl walked away, smirking.

Several miles away, a cloud of nanobots coalesced into letters on the wall of a hotel room.

Slowly, Anne spelt out her message.

Agni read it and nodded. “The Starbucks at 18th and 5th. One hour, and order two grande cinnamon dolce lattes with flavored whipped cream and caramel drizzle.”

----------------------------------------

One hour later, Anne sipped the too-sweet latte across the table from Agni.

“She actually liked this stuff?”

Agni shrugged. “Maria had a thing for sweet drinks. Not going to judge.”

“That’s fair. To Maria.”

“To Maria.” Agni chugged down the last of her drink. “Now – let me summarize the situation. Your mother was shot by a cop called Clarisse Harper.”

“Yeah.”

“And you discovered this today, when Wanda – your school bully slash rival slash friendly neighbourhood psycho – informed you that Clarisse Harper was, in fact, her aunt. Whom she loved very, very much.”

“Yeah.”

“And Wanda took it into her head that Clarisse Harper thought your mother was a Grunter agent. And that your father still is one. And… she e-mailed Belessar about it. At his public email address.”

“Belessar dot dragonflies at Gmail dot com. The one I set up.”

“And to which you control access.” Agni placed her hand under her chin. “You know, as plans go, it’s not terrible. Except for, you know, her choice of whom to write to.”

“I offered to stay away from her boyfriend if she agreed not to write anyone else.”

“The boyfriend in whom you have zero interest.”

“Contrary to what Wanda believes.”

“And she agreed.”

“Well. She agreed not to tell any other superheroes. She was quite specific in the wording.”

Agni snorted. “Meaning she intends to tell a supervillain with an axe to grind with the Grunters. By when can I expect this little genius to find my e-mail address and contact me?”

“No idea, but it’ll be interesting to watch her try.”

“You’ve certainly inherited your father’s negotiation skills. So – is that all you wanted to discuss?”

Anne swallowed. “Not quite. I need your advice.”

“Go on.”

“Is it possible that my mom was a Grunter?”

Agni leaned back. “Have you asked your dad?”

“I… can’t. He might not…”

“Be honest with you?”

“He cared for her. A lot. He’s never said anything remotely bad about her, ever.”

“Let me set your mind at ease about one thing for sure. Your mother was never a Grunter.”

Anne looked up sharply. “That’s pretty quick.”

“I’ve been doing some digging of my own. I owe them payback for – well, making a fool out of me. So, a little side investigating has been going on.”

“The passive voice thing is a bit worrying…”

“Fine, I’ve been hunting down former Grunter agents and operatives and interrogating them for clues.”

“Oh.” Anne paused. “Do I want to know why it isn’t news?”

“Why do you think?”

“Because they never find the bodies?” Anne trailed off. “Damn. That was rhetorical, wasn’t it?"

“You think? Anyway, I have now constructed a partial map of how the Grunters operated. They had a few female employees here and there, sure, but intel gathering was mostly done by men. And some call girls they paid – though those appear to have been independent contractors, mostly to help with blackmail.”

“You said they had a few female employees?”

“I have a list. Your mother’s name wasn’t in the lot – and I doubt they’d hire someone like her.”

Anne frowned. “What do you mean – ‘someone like her’?”

“Anne. None of the Grunters were married women with young children. I think you can guess why Grumman would shy away from hiring anyone with that background.”

“… I never thought of it that way.”

“Most of the Grunters – the ones I’ve been able to trace – were young men, either single or divorced with no kids. A history of violence, usually. Your mother?” Agni shrugged. “If I were Grumman, I wouldn’t want to expose my operations – or even the fingertip of them – to anyone who was remotely close to being a good parent.”

“… You’re still going after the Grunters, aren’t you?”

“Of course. And I spoke to Daisy, too – she’s going to help me. And I’m going to help her.”

“Andrew didn’t tell me that.”

“Andrew’s not a part of this, Anne.”

“Wait, why not?”

“Because it’s important for Phoenix Company to make their own decisions. Their own alliances, independent of Belessar.”

“But he’s helping them!”

“And they’re grateful. But.” Agni wagged a finger. “This is not just his fight. They need to be able to contribute on their own – he can’t be their crutch forever.”

“What if they get hurt?”

“You’re talking about the Phoenix Company that marched across London, fought multiple Carnotaurs, hundreds of Raptors and Sarnak, and only lost one combatant to a force of invisible alien commandos.” Agni smirked. “Against a group of gangsters with no remaining battlesuits.”

“… when you put it that way….”

“Besides, I’ll be there with them. Monitoring the situation.”

“And setting fire to anything truly dangerous.”

“More like setting Grumman on fire if we run across him. I have a bone to pick with his bones.”

“… what does that even mean?”

“It means I’m going to roast him to the point when the only thing left is his burnt-out skeleton, and then I’m going to pick the bone with his bones. See? A bone to pick with his bones?”

“And now that we’re on to the disturbing puns, I’d better head home.”

“You do that. And Anne, a word of advice.” Agni’s face grew serious. “Talk to your dad about this.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”