Whether fortunately for her attention or unfortunately for her longing heart, the day progressed without any further messages exchanged. Leona helped Quinn with some chores around the house and took time to mentally review everything she had done and been through over the past few days. She was so deep in thought that when Goonie seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the living room beside her, she nearly fell over in shock.

  Goonie raised an eyebrow at her. Leona, blushing at how distracted she had been not to notice her arrival, rushed to fill her in on the less embarrassing parts of her northern adventure.

  After dinner, the conversation shifted to Padua and the troubling reports Detective Kirby had uncovered. Once the basics were out, Goonie and Quinn insisted on helping her go through the information. They all headed upstairs, spreading the contents of the file across the table. Each of them took a third of the papers, hoping that fresh eyes and multiple perspectives might catch something one person alone wouldn’t notice.

  They poured over police reports, court filings, transcripts from calls made to police, what seemed to be local news articles found with a broad keyword search and all kinds of other documents for what felt like hours. Leona was just about to resign herself to frustration when Quinn suddenly grinned like a cat that had just cornered its prey.

  “I’ve got something!” she announced, her voice triumphant.

  Leona and Goonie immediately leaned in closer. “Look at this,” Quinn said, pointing at an old group photo. “Sixteen kids in this ‘all campers’ picture… but where the hell is he in the rest of these? No other shots, no other mentions, nada.”

  Leona studied the picture, her brow furrowing. “You’re saying… this boy just disappeared?”

  “Not in my pile, and mine has all the ‘graduation’ records Padua had to fork over not too long ago,” Quinn confirmed. “There’s no record of him anywhere else. It’s like he never existed—except someone forgot to scrub this photo.”

  A chill ran through Leona’s spine. Goonie flipped through her own stack and quickly found something else. “I’ve got him on the check-in list, see? Bruce Kinsinger—only one with that name. But he’s not in the completion awards or any of the ter reports.” She pced the pages together, connecting the pieces.

  Leona’s heart pounded as she immediately pulled up her communicator. “Dictation mode. Email: Detective Kirby. Begin. ‘Did you notice the missing child? According to the records you shared, there was a boy named Bruce Kinsinger who checked into the camp, but never checked out. It sounds extreme, but were there any reports of children’s corpses turning up? If a child has disappeared, this could be very serious.’”

  She snapped pictures of the relevant documents and attached them, still marveling at how the communicator managed to take high-resolution images despite cking a visible lens. With a final review, she hit send.

  Looking up at Quinn, she grinned. “Great catch, big sis.”

  Quinn smirked, stretching back in her chair. “Well, naturally. Only the amazing perception of a semi-professional DJ—”

  BANG.

  The front door suddenly burst open.

  Leona barely had time to register the sound before four men in masks, cd in bck, armed with guns stormed in like a tactical unit. One quickly closed the door behind them while the other three surged forward, weapons trained on them.

  “Stand up.” One of them ordered, his gun aimed directly at them.

  Quinn’s reaction was immediate—she flipped him off.

  Goonie, however, was calmer, though the steel in her voice was unmistakable. “We don’t want trouble,” she said evenly, rising slowly with her hands raised. “Stand up, girls.”

  Leona’s heart pounded in her chest. Who were these men? Why were they here? The files? A hit? Something else entirely?

  One thing was certain: her family was in danger.

  Panic surged through her veins, but it wasn’t fear—it was rage.

  Her power answered instantly. How dare they invade her home? How dare they threaten her family?!

  A brilliant fsh of light exploded from her body as she transformed.

  “ARGH!” The men staggered back, momentarily blinded.

  Then, gunfire.

  Aurora barely felt the impact of the bullets against her energy field—but Goonie did.

  She heard the cry of pain before she saw it. Her stomach dropped as she turned to see Goonie clutching her side, blood blooming through her shirt.

  It hadn’t gone as pnned. She wasn’t fast enough.

  The second it took to change had left just enough of an opening—one of them had fired blindly, and it had hit her mom.

  Aurora’s world narrowed to a single point of rage.

  Before they could fire again, Quinn moved.

  She stepped in front of Aurora, bare-fisted and unshaken, standing defiantly against men with guns.

  “GET THE HELL OUT OF OUR HOUSE!” she roared.

  The intruders opened fire.

  Aurora didn’t even blink.

  Her hands swept forward, and a solid curtain of pure light erupted between them and her family.

  Bullets ricocheted wildly off the radiant wall.

  The gunmen panicked, firing everything they had, but their bullets were useless. Their weapons were useless.

  And they were trapped with something far more dangerous than themselves.

  Quinn turned sharply to Aurora, her voice taut with urgency. “Are you okay?” Then, as her eyes fell to Goonie and the growing pool of blood, panic overtook her expression. “Oh my God, MOM!” She dropped to her knees beside her, hands hovering as she hesitated, unsure whether pressing down would hurt her or save her. “Save her!” she pleaded, eyes flicking up to Leona. “You have to get her to a hospital, right now!”

  “I can’t leave you!” Aurora’s voice was raw, her throat tight, tears streaking down her face as she tried to think. Her breath hitched, panic cwing at her chest, but she couldn’t let it take hold. She had to protect them. No one—no one—threatens her family. The radiant wall of light she had erected dissipated as her focus shifted, and in the same movement, she shed out with a series of rapid, calcuted bsts, striking first at their weapons, sending them skidding across the hardwood floor and cttering against furniture. The sudden loss of firepower jolted the intruders into action, but she was faster—her next strikes hit them, knocking one into the coffee table, another against the bookshelf, sending a cascade of books crashing onto his slumped form. She turned, looking for the st, but the man near the door had already thrown it open and bolted into the night.

  Damn it.

  Quinn’s breath was ragged, her hands still pressing against Goonie’s side, trying to staunch the bleeding. “Hurry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “There’s… there’s so much blood.”

  Aurora knelt beside her, lifting Goonie into her arms with a gentleness that belied the panic still coursing through her. She summoned a halo, a glowing, shimmering band of energy, and pressed it over the wound, willing it to work, to do something. “Grab onto me,” she instructed, looking at Quinn. “Touch my ankle, my arm—anything—I’ll fly us there as fast as I can.”

  But as she watched, the halo began to dissolve.

  Her heart stopped.

  No.

  This had never happened before.

  Why? Because it was night?

  No—not now!

  Goonie let out a weak moan, her eyelids fluttering. “Ah… d-don’t hurt my girls…”

  Aurora’s breath hitched. It was working, just not the way she thought. The halo wasn’t fading because it was failing—it was doing something else. Tears welled up, slipping down her cheeks and onto Goonie’s skin as she poured everything she had into reinforcing it, willing it to hold, to take away the pain. Anything helpful!

  Quinn, still trembling, finally exhaled shakily. “Mom, it’s okay,” she murmured, though her voice still held that surreal quality of shock, as if her body hadn’t yet caught up with reality.

  Goonie’s lips parted slightly as she let out a small cough. “Did they… knock me down?” she asked weakly.

  Aurora wiped at the blood on her skin, only to realize with wide eyes that the wound was closing. The halo pulsed inside her wound faintly, flickering in and out, and when it finally settled, all that remained was a raw, tender-looking red mark where the bullet hole had been. She snapped another halo into pce just to be sure, but this time, it stayed put.

  Goonie flinched slightly. “Ow… be careful, sweetie. That’s tender.”

  Aurora let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a sob and a ugh. “I-I think I can heal,” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. She didn’t know how complete it was, how deep the healing went, but it was enough. It had to be.

  She turned to Quinn, her face still damp with tears but her resolve steeled. “Can you take care of Mom? I need to go after that st bastard.” She clenched her fists. “And tie the other two up.”

  Quinn nodded, still pale, still trembling, but her jaw set in determination. “I got it.”

  Aurora turned and ran.

  She didn’t just step outside—she unched herself into the night sky like a comet igniting the darkness. The world blurred below her, but she focused on the one thing that mattered—him.

  There.

  A lone figure sprinting across the lot, weaving through parked cars in a desperate attempt to escape.

  Not a chance.

  Aurora bzed past him in a streak of golden light, arcing back and smming into the ground before him, cutting off his path. A surge of energy shot out as she extended her palm, the concussive bst hurling him backwards, sending him sprawling. He barely had time to process what had happened before a luminous halo snapped around his torso, yanking him into the air like a fish caught on a line.

  She snatched it tight, dragging him up as she ascended.

  Higher.

  The wind howled past them, thin and cold. The lights of the city shrank below.

  He screamed.

  Aurora pulled him close, their faces mere inches apart, her eyes practically burning with fury.

  “You.”

  He whimpered.

  “Unless you want to experience skydiving without a parachute, you’re going to tell me WHY YOU WERE IN THAT HOUSE.”

  The man gasped, filing uselessly against the glowing bind that held him aloft. “I-I’m soreeeee…” he sobbed, wriggling in panic.

  “SORRY DOESN’T CUT IT!” Aurora’s voice thundered, raw and unrelenting. “You broke into a home! You SHOT a woman! What the hell did you WANT?!”

  “We… we followed the dy home from the café,” he stammered, his voice shaking. “She kicked us out… we thought we’d—gonna steal her stuff, mess her up some, have some good fun with her…” He swallowed, eyes darting wildly. “I-I didn’t hurt no one—”

  Aurora’s blood ran cold.

  “I can’t freaking believe this!” Aurora snarled. “Enjoy terminal velocity, slimeball!”

  She dropped him.

  Her fingers uncurled, and the man tumbled helplessly through the open air, his scream tearing through the night as he plummeted.

  Tears burned at the edges of her vision. They had come into her home. They had threatened her family. They had shot Goonie. And for what? Because her mother had pissed them off at the café somehow? They had no reason—no right—to do any of this!

  Scaring them straight. That’s what Midnight Avenger would do, right? She had to make sure this bastard understood what he had done.

  At the st possible moment, she dived after him and snatched him out of freefall, catching him in the shimmering hold of a newly-formed halo. His body convulsed as the realization hit him—he had pissed himself.

  And worse.

  Disgusted, she dragged him back toward the house, his limbs still trembling, his face pale and sck. He didn’t fight back—he couldn’t. He had already lost any sembnce of dignity, much less desire to resist. When they touched down in the yard, she knocked him out cold with a single, precise blow.

  Now what?

  Three unconscious home invaders.

  A home riddled with bullet holes.

  A family shaken.

  And a neighborhood that had taken notice of the racket.

  Lights were on, curtains drawn back. She could feel eyes on her, hushed voices murmuring in the darkness. There would be rumors.

  Aurora paced, trying to breathe, but every inhale felt too short, too shallow. Her hands trembled as she reached for her ID card, pulling it from her pocket and tapping the contact she needed most right now.

  Mistral.

  She peeked inside the house. Quinn was still on the floor, hugging her knees, her expression distant, dazed. Goonie was sitting up, her complexion pale but no longer ghostly.

  The men were bound, zip-tied and unconscious.

  A few less things to worry about.

  Quinn finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I tied them up.”

  Aurora swallowed hard, but Quinn’s next words hit like a punch to the gut.

  “I failed to protect you, Mom.”

  The weight of that statement settled heavily between them.

  Aurora clenched her jaw. She had felt that failure too. That moment of hesitation, of panic. That split second where she wasn’t fast enough, where she hadn’t been able to stop the bullet before it tore into Goonie’s side.

  She had undone the damage—but not the terror.

  The communicator chimed as Mistral finally picked up. Her tone was warm, lighthearted.

  “Hey, Aurora! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon,” she said, chuckling. “Miss me that much?”

  Aurora barely registered the words.

  Her throat tightened. She walked deeper into the house, stepping over the fallen thugs. The extra zip ties Quinn had left on the floor caught her attention. She grabbed them and fastened the st goon down, securing him just as tightly as the others.

  Mistral’s voice wavered. “Are you okay? Is something wrong with the signal? Aurora?”

  Aurora coughed, clearing her throat. Be strong. “I’m sorry, Mistral. I was distracted. I had to tie up a goon.”

  There was a sharp pause as Mistral clocked the tone of Aurora’s voice.

  “You’re in the middle of a fight? Do you need help?” Mistral’s tone shifted. The pyful teasing was gone, repced with something much more serious. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s over now,” Aurora muttered, still trying to process everything. “No worries.”

  No worries? What a lie.

  She took a breath. “I told myself I wouldn’t be needy or a burden or constantly nagging you, but… I need advice. Super advice.”

  Mistral didn’t hesitate. “Talk to me.”

  Aurora closed her eyes, gripping the communicator tighter. “Four guys followed my mom home tonight. They broke in. They wanted to steal from us. But it wasn’t just that. They were plotting to rape her because she kicked them out of the café earlier.”

  Mistral’s sharp inhale was loud over the line. “Shit.”

  “Yeah.” Aurora swallowed, her fingers pressing against her forehead. “It had nothing to do with me or Padua or anything I was investigating. Just some random assholes. But when they kicked the door in, I panicked. I thought they were here for me. I transformed immediately. I was so focused on protecting my family that I didn’t think about keeping my cover. And because I wasn’t fast enough, Mom got shot.”

  Her voice cracked.

  Mistral was silent.

  Aurora pushed through, forcing herself to keep going. “I managed to heal her somehow… mostly. But there goes my secret identity. If they remember anything, it’s over.”

  She bit her lip. “I screwed up.”

  Finally, Mistral spoke, her voice gentle but firm. “Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?”

  Aurora shook her head. “No. Just… shaken.”

  Mistral exhaled slowly. “I never knew Bck Angel had healing abilities. If you’ve unlocked something like that, it’s huge. But right now, your identity is your biggest concern. Maybe you should call in Andromeda—she’s a psychic. Or Dragonmage. He might be able to work a spell and erase some inconvenient memories.”

  Aurora’s mind raced. That was indeed an option now. Her brain was still so adrenaline filled she hadn’t even thought about what resources she had now that she was a part of the Society of Sentinels.

  But Dragonmage… he wasn’t the kind to mess with minds lightly. Magic had rules. Consequences.

  Mistral continued, “This might sound random, but do you trust your detective friend?”

  Aurora didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”

  Kirby was solid. He had a good head, a good heart. They hadn’t known each other long, but she felt like she could count on him.

  Mistral hummed thoughtfully. “Then maybe that’s your best bet. Talk to him. He might let you question the thugs first, see if they even know what they saw. If not, you’re in the clear. If they did catch something, then you can decide if you need to bring in Dragonmage or Andromeda. In the meantime, give me a full rundown. I might have more suggestions.”

  Aurora nodded to herself, wiping at her eyes as she went over everything exactly as it happened.

  She could still fix this.

  As she spoke, she reached out—comforting Quinn with a squeeze to the shoulder, taking Goonie’s hand in hers.

  Mistral listened intently. When Aurora finally finished, her mentor let out a slow breath. “From everything you’re saying, it sounds like it all happened so fast that they probably don’t even know what the hell they saw. That fsh of light when you transform is blinding. They could have thought you just showed up to save them. And it doesn’t sound like they were even thinking about you.”

  She was right.

  Aurora had panicked, but the reality was—these weren’t masterminds. They were a bunch of dumb, sadistic punks so hopped up on some crazy stimunt that they probably weren’t analyzing what they saw.

  “They weren’t looking for you,” Mistral reaffirmed. “They probably don’t know what they saw.”

  Aurora exhaled, crying softly as the weight of everything settled onto her.

  Mistral cursed under her breath. “Ah, shit. Someone needs help. Listen—my advice? Talk to Kirby first. Py things close the vest, but don’t outright lie to him. If you need me to help convince Dragonmage, I will. But I think you’re okay. I’ll call you back soon.”

  The call ended.

  Aurora sat there, the silence that had overtaken the room lingering.

  There are consequences when you act without thinking. Sometimes, even when you do the right thing, bad things can still happen.

  And then other times, the universe just feels like kicking you in the teeth.