"Get off the couch," a boy demands, crossing his muscular arms. He's older than me by a few years, by the looks of it. "Dad's gonna be home soon and he'll want this spot."

"Okay." I roll off the cushions, clambering to my feet. I turn to talk to him, but he's already heading upstairs. Huffing, I cross my arms. Fine.

Sighing, I pull my sweater tighter to my skin with a shiver and head to the kitchen. Dad never bothers to pay for heat during the two months out of the year when Midgar gets cold. We've spent the last few days waiting for Mom to return. I would call, but I don't know where she went. Huffing, I shake my head. Tseng was supposed to get here two hours ago. My stomach growls and I open the empty fridge.

Across the house, my sister wails. The twins laugh, running away and shoving each other back and forth. The girl chases them, sniffling as she clutches her beheaded teddy bear. When I turn to watch them tease her, someone bangs on the door.

"Anna, get the door!"

"Yeah, Anna!"

Anna? The older boy pushes my back, startling me.

"Hey, that's you, dumbass."

"Don't call me that," I mutter, tugging the front door open to reveal Tseng. He raises an eyebrow. "Hi?"

"Sorry I'm late. I forgot my key."

"Okay." I step aside to let him in. He watches the twins run in circles before turning back to me.

"Has your father come home yet?"

"Nope. Mom hasn't either. Where were you?"

"Work." He frowns, turning back to the children. "Boys, put your shirts back on and clean up this mess."

"Whatever, Mom," one scoffs, rolling his eyes and shoving his brother with a squeal.

They forget their uncle's order almost immediately, returning to their screaming as Tseng heaves my sister into his arms, tense and irate. This isn't his job. I press my lips together and look down at the floor. I should've kept things tidier, so he didn't have to worry. I could have at least tried to make dinner out of our remaining canned tomatoes and slices of bread. If I really cared, I could've made the boys calm down. Tseng bites his tongue when the boys run past, now missing their pants. I wish I was better. I'm sorry.

"Miss Kitty, are you okay?"

"Just tired," I mutter, sipping on my second cup of coffee.

"Why? Because you slept on the couch?"

"I just didn't sleep."

"But nighttime is for sleeping!"

"Yeah, right?" I scoff, shaking my head. Wish my body knew that. I turn to Elmyra. "Are you guys ready to head out?"

"Nearly." She smooths her apron, raising an eyebrow. "Marlene hasn't finished eating."

"You should have breakfast!" Marlene chirps around a mouthful of jellied toast. "It's super important! That's what Tifa always tells me."

"She seems like the type."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing. Finish your breakfast, kid. We've got places to be."

The flight to Kalm is relatively silent, save for the sounds of the blades slicing through the air. Marlene holds her headphones over her ears and stands on her toes to look out the window, eyes wide with awe. Elmyra hugs her arms close to her body, trying to hide her frayed nerves. We land on a pad outside the city and I follow Reeve's directions to a house hidden well within the city's towering walls. The cobblestone nearly blinds me with its pristine blue color and the smiles of passing strangers make my stomach twist into knots. It's like they live every day celebrating the fact that they were lucky enough to be born outside the garbage pit mere miles away.

"You have to be in the house from eight in the evening to eight in the morning every day. After that, you're allowed to go anywhere within the city. If you must be late or leave early for any reason, you must call Reeve. His number's on the counter."

I set the keys down on the table and scroll through the long message Reeve sent, searching for something I might've missed.

"If you run out of money or something in the house is broken, call Reeve. If you try to run, you, Marlene, and Aerith are all bound to suffer consequences." I look up, eyebrow raised. "Any questions?"

"Despite the circumstances, I can't help but think you're being too kind," Elmyra comments, looking around the bright house with suspicion.

"Well, that's all Reeve. I'm just here to do the dirty work."

"When can we leave?"

"When I say so. We don't know when this whole ordeal will end yet."

"… Fair enough."

"Oh, and Marlene?"

"Yes, Missy Kitty?"

"Reeve heard you like flowers, so he had them put some in your room upstairs."

"Miss Elmyra? Can I go?"

"… Sure." Elmyra turns to me. "I have to talk to Miss Kitty alone."

"Okay!"

"What do you need?" I ask, tucking my hair behind my ear.

She wanders to a window on the front of the house, pulling the curtains aside to peek at the streets. "Aerith isn't coming back, is she?"

"To Shinra? Not anytime soon."

"She's learning who she is," she sighs, shaking her head. "It's good for her, but… not like this."

"Yeah, well, sometimes things are harder than they have to be. Fine as long as we get the same outcome." I scan the homey living room, wishing I could crash and take a nice, long nap.

"Hm. If that's what you think." She jerks her head up at a video camera in the corner. "Are these everywhere?"

"Yeah. Gotta take precautions." I scratch the back of my head, shrugging. "Word on the street is you're a stubborn woman. No one wants to risk it."

"Stubborn, yes. Stupid, no."

"Fair enough." I turn on my heels and head for the door. "Well, let Reeve know if you need anything. I'm heading back."

Upon reentering the Shinra Building, I see Amelia heading past, standing tall in her black heels. She sees me and slows, smiling. Left with little choice, I walk up to her, straightening my jacket.

"Didn't know you worked on this floor."

"I don't," she admits with a sigh, shifting a stack of manila folders into her other arm. "I've been running around like a headless chocobo. I didn't realize that working for President Shinra would be so messy. Stupid of me."

"President Shinra?" I frown. It takes me a few moments to remember that's Rufus, not his father. "Oh, right. What do you do?"

"I'm one of his three assistants," she answers, laughing quietly. "It sounds ridiculous, but even with three of us, we can hardly juggle all this work."

"Busy guy," I mutter, feeling my ears go red. Yeah, busy screwing with my head.

"Busy women," she laughs, pausing. "You're intriguing me, Kat. Mind getting lunch with me today?"

"Uh, sure." Surprised, I follow when she continues on her way.

"Alright. Meet me there at one."

"Yeah..."

"So, what did you do before you joined the Turks?"

"I—" I raise a finger, taking a moment to swallow my bite. Amelia smiles. "I was a reporter."

"On the news? I thought I recognized you."

"What did you do?"

"Me?" She continues to cut up her salad, shrugging. "I was a counselor a while back. I worked in a bunch of psychiatric wards. Specialized in extreme effects of psychological disorders."

"Such as…?"

"Anything, really. Depended on the institution." She takes a long drink of water, peeking at me over the edge of the glass. "My last gig was in a private practice to do some counseling. Boring stuff compared to what I was used to."

"Got any fun stories?" I prod. She takes a bite of her salad, staring at the wall behind me as she thinks.

"Don't we all?" she says finally. Sighing, she gives in. "Well, there was this one I don't think I'll ever forget. There was an incident where a young girl with what I'm pretty sure was schizophrenia suffered from these crazy intense hallucinations." She chooses her words carefully. I assume it's because she doesn't want to reveal anyone's identity and chew on my sandwich, engrossed. "She did some… pretty horrible things to her family, but all under the influence of a fantasy. Her remaining family pled that she was insane and she was handed over to me."

"What happened to her?"

"…" Her lips curl into a sly smile and she shakes her head. "You know what? It doesn't matter if you know. It was Annabelle McGrail." I almost choke on my bread. "Right? Crazy stuff."

"She died when her institution burned, didn't she?"

"Yes." She nods solemnly, eyeing me in the strange way she's been since we met. "I was there when the place lit up. She had assistance from an employee or two—she had to. No teenage girl is strong enough to pull off what she did."

"That's a lot to handle," I huff.

"Yeah… I try not to think about it. That was a long time ago."

"I get it."

"I'm glad."

She smiles again and I smile back. How can someone who works for such an insufferable (albeit attractive) prick be such a pleasant human being? Her eyes turn to someone behind me and her smile fades instantly.

"Gods, please tell me that isn't who I think it is."

"Who, Tyler?" I frown, watching the doctor pass the cafeteria.

Without another word, Amelia stands and charges at him. I stuff the last bite of my sandwich in my mouth and hurry after her, confused. An employee scowls at us, clearing our dishes. Sorry. I was gonna come back. Marx turns upon hearing her click-clacking, raising an eyebrow.

"Miss Knope? I wasn't expecting you here."

"The feeling's mutual," she snaps, her eyes growing cold as she crosses her arms. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I work here…?" Marx glances at me.

"You do not."

"Yes, I do."

"He does," I butt in, earning a sharp stare from the woman. "He's been treating my injuries for, like, two weeks."

"He has not," she huffs, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're kidding. After everything you did, you—" She tugs at her hair, flustered.

"Hey, are you okay?" I touch her arm and she flinches away.

"After everything I did?" Marx repeats, clearly ticked off by her statement. I back away, watching with uncertainty. "I've been righting my wrongs, Amy! You've been living off in La-La-Land while I fix the problem you created!"

"The problem I created?!" she cries. My face gets hot when people start to stare. "You're the one who—"

"I was trying at least," he snaps, lowering his voice. "All you did was fill her head with flowery bullshit she never used."

"You abused her trust!"

"And you think I don't know that? Like I said, I'm righting my wrongs." He gives her a once-over, scoffing and turning to carry on his merry way. "Go back to faxing papers, Amy. I've got important work to do."

Amelia stands there sputtering as he leaves, hands clenched into tight fists. Taking a deep breath, she shakes her head and turns back to me, fuming.

"Are you okay?" I ask, knowing it's a stupid question.

"This is bullshit," she huffs, staring at the table where her lunch once sat. "Complete and utter bullshit."