Juro was escorted to Mr. Brown’s front door little after the crack of dawn; Adam’s eyes seemed to quickly light up again like a small flame in an oil lantern before it was quickly blown out and his eyes drifted to the door, wet and tear.

When Mr. Brown opened the door, he found a regular officer beside a boy he didn’t recognize. Juro’s hair was brown, since he dunked it in water to change the color, and it was tied up beneath his hat. Adam immediately recognized him, however, and so mr. Brown let him in.

“Thank you so much for saving my son,” Mr. Brown said, dropping to his knees in a bow before Juro. “I am so sorry about what happened. Please forgive us.”

Juro squinted at the man shaking below him before he sighed, walking away and lying down on Mr. Brown’s sofa. He took off his black hat and twiddled it between his fingers, looking disinterested at the felt fabric. “You know, I think I’m pretty good at figuring out this sort of stuff, but I never expected that after all these years, you’d sell out Morrigan.”

Mr. Brown’s eyes widened as he got up and rubbed his hands off on his knees. “Please, tell me what you want. Anything, I’ll do anything. I promise, we had no idea the extent of Morrigan’s powers.”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought of her. You’re rather quick to abandon the government, aren’t you?” Juro asked, placing the hat on top of his knee and looking at it pensively.

Mr. Brown expected for Adam to retort Juro’s point, but he instead continued to cry into his tears. Stammering he replied, “Thank you, really, for saving me. Please just tell us what you want.”

Juro finally rose into a sitting position as he looked at the pitiful scene playing out before him. “I want to know everything. Why did you kill Morrigan’s father but not her? Are you responsible for Morrigan’s mom as well? Why wasn’t Morrigan taken when her mom was discovered? What is the goal?”

Rather shocked by how much he knew, Mr. Brown brushed off the feeling and truthfully answered Juro, explaining everything with General Kristiansen and the financial blackmail. “That’s all I know. I don’t know why the General suddenly decided to protect Morrigan, and I don’t know what happened to Morrigan’s mother — though, with crimes like hers, she would have been undoubtedly executed.”

Juro paused, rubbing the bottom of his chin as if he were conspiring although the childish look on his face still prevailed. “Alright,” he finally responded to the great anxiety of Mr. Brown and Adam.

“Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Is that it? Is that all you need from us?” Mr. Brown quizzed, his voice increasing in pitch proportional to his anxiety.

“No, of course not,” he sheepishly laughed, “First things first, I’ve recorded this whole conversation, so don’t think of backing out. You’ll either help me, or I’ll turn you over to the officials.” He rustled in his jacket for a moment before pulling out a cassette tape, giving a mischievous wink. “Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we? Now, I would be nervous about pulling a stunt like this, but a powerless toddler and old man can’t do much in this position.”

Adam’s face suddenly flushed his face as he readied himself for a brash, defensive answer, but Juro simply slid his hand under the boy’s jaw and shut it. “Secondly,” he emphasized, glaring at Adam, “I want Josephine’s contact information. From what I understand, you are on speaking terms with her. She should be out of her prosthetic surgery by now, and if we get access to her, she can really help Morrigan.”

“I’ll give you her card, but she’s not normal. There’s something off about her…” he trailed off. “So, you’ve been on Morrigan’s side? Why bother sneaking around?” Mr. Brown asked, genuinely confused by his intentions.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Juro nonchalantly shrugged. “We usually disagree on everything, and I think I’m right. I’d rather help her by doing the work myself then rely on her as a team player. I’m doing this with her best interest in mind, even if it hurts her in the short term.” He seemed regretful for a moment. He looked at the dirty stitching of the couch wistfully, seeming to get lost in the endless seams before he faced Mr. Brown again. “I expect you to be ready to help Morrigan and I whenever we need it.” He waved the cassette tape again with a taunting smile that seemed to beg Mr. Brown to cross him.

Mr. Brown nodded before he suddenly broke out in tears, collapsing to the ground as he vomited tears into his aged hands.

Taken aback, Juro got up to comfort him. “Why are you crying?”

Mr. Brown tightly clutched Juro’s hands, squeezing them hard enough to make Juro try and reel back in panic, but he couldn’t break free. “Please, take care of my son,” he cried, sobbing through each word. “I know it. I know it, the world is with Morrigan. The future is going to follow her. My son needs to survive, so please, please protect him. Even if that means bringing him to Morrigan.”

“I…” he paused, thinking back to the last promise he both made and broke — the promise to Morrigan’s dad to protect Morrigan forever. “I promise to protect Adam, Mr. Brown. You have my word.”

Mr. Brown repeatedly thanked him as if it was the only phrase he now knew. Adam, too, seemed to finally realize the situation he had brought upon himself. That girl was out to kill him, and she was also his only hope for salvation. Adam looked up at Juro with a different feeling stirring within his gut, something unfamiliar that felt threatening to him, all-consuming. Before he could process any of his thoughts, a sharp knock sounded from the door.

“Mr. Brown, fear racing through his body, quickly moved Juro into the windowless bedroom before heading to the front door, Adam’s small hand in his. Juro eavesdropped from the hallway, although he already knew who it could be at the door.

Suddenly, Adam came sprinting down the hallway and into his room, slamming the door to Juro’s surprise. Screams and moans sounded from outside as Morrigan slammed Mr. Brown onto the ground, viciously pummeling him.

“Tell me,” Morrigan hissed, spit flying in his face, “who sent you?”

Juro quickly took Adam into a hug that was too tight, so tight that Adam desperately tapped Juro’s back to signal he couldn’t breathe, yet Juro held on

“Listen to me, Adam. This is going to escalate, and it’s going to be bad. When it does, I need to walk behind Morrigan and make it look like I came in through the front door. From the sounds of it, she's near the table. Is that true?”

Adam nodded his head, tears now staining his face as they clumped together on his eyelashes before falling down

“Good boy. When I do that, Morrigan will hear me, because the door creaks. At the same time, you need to distract her, okay? Tug on her sleeve, do whatever you need to do. That’s the only way I can protect you in this situation.” Screams continued down the hall, and they seemed to grow more animalistic, desperate. Juro peeked out from outside, preparing to make a dash for it.

Juro was incredibly perceptive; he knew just where to step to avoid reaching Morrigan’s attention if she was in the corner of the room. The only creak would be from the front door.

“A father for a father,” Morrigan finally spat, and Juro quickly headed down the hall, Adam close behind him. When Morrigan heard the front door creak open, she blasted a quick flush of fire before seeing Adam tug on her sleeve.

“You want revenge on Leiths, right?” his voice trembled up and down, the pitch changing with his wrecked sobs. “Please, spare us. I’m not a Leith anymore. My powers, they’re all gone.”

Her emotions quickly hardened as she glared at him. “Did you feel that for my father when he screamed as you burned him alive?”

“Please,” he cried, “please, please, please, don’t hurt us.”

Before Morrigan could respond a small voice peeped out from behind her. Juro’s plan had worked.

“Morr?” Juro asked, feigning confusion. His plan had worked. It had worked perfectly despite the high risk.

After finally convincing Morrigan to leave, Juro lingered at the door for a moment, his hand extended behind him. Mr. Brown wobbled over and slipped a card into Juro’s hand quickly.

“Thank you,” Mr. Brown graciously whispered, voice still crackling from Morrigan’s earlier assault.

Juro didn’t bother responding, only glaring at Mr. Brown. He quickly looked at the card, scanning the embossed silver letters that clearly read J O S E P H I N E M E Y E R, her contact info dotted beneath in a clear, elegant font. He slid the card into his pocket and rushed to join Morrigan.