Chaos. Absolute chaos.

People broke out running. They sprinted in every direction, trying to get as far away from the center of the square as possible. The abomination stretched, trying to free itself from the rubble as it watched its prey flee from its reach. They trampled each other in their panic, tripping, and falling, and scurrying away like rats. The snake gasped, a few desperate screams escaping out of its maw as it gazed down at the lone man in its shadow. It snapped and cracked its spine and black fluid spilled onto the man's chest. He screamed and scrambled up to his feet, trying to run away. The snake head yelled and threw its face toward him, stretching as far as it could—and it narrowly missed his feet by a few inches, jamming its head into the payment.

The panic continued as the creature tried to free itself. With a strain, it broke itself free, tearing free chunks of concrete and sending them flying through the air. It groaned in pain, and tiredly, it slammed its body against the floor, slinking back toward the fountain leaving a trail of black in its wake. It looked back toward its tail and screamed. The ground trembled as it whipped its body along the ground, lost and frightened in its new surroundings. From the remnants of the fountain, a black wing broke through the rubble, stretching out to the sky. Limb by limb, the Grimm broke up through the ground, burrowing out to the surface. When it finally freed itself, it stamped out onto the pavement, three heads searching around for anything left to consume. It saw prey far away in the windows of the buildings, some cowering, some recording it with their Scrolls, all watching in some way or another. They were just out of its reach. It needed something closer.

The bear head snapped to the left. It sensed flesh. The edge of the square, hiding behind the hedges. A cluster of Humans. Cowards. Meat and blood. The Grimm snarled and planted its front talons into the concrete, clutching the ground, and when all five of its eyes locked onto its targets, it yelled and lunged across the square. Its wings flapped but created no lift, and while it was powerful enough to launch itself over the distance, it sailed clumsily. Its legs clipped the ground, followed by the beak of the bird head on its underside, and it crashed hard into the ground well before it hit its target. The massive beast ripped up the earth as it tumbled toward the hedges, and the people hiding behind it managed to run away before the Grimm crashed through the hedges and into the nearby street. Its wings bent beneath its frame, and the snake tail whipped around and crash into a parked car outside the advertising firm, denting through the driver seat door and shattering the windows.

The Grimm pawed at the air, struggling to right itself as its prey escaped it once again. The bird head twitched and smacked its beak repeatedly against the ground while the bear head looked around in dazed frustration. The snake slunk back to the rest of its body and started snapping at the other two heads, yelling and biting at them. The talons tried to smack it away as it eventually managed to roll back to its feet, stumbling briefly before being able to right itself. Barely able to stand, it began searching again for food.

A few of the security guards—only three—on the ground floor of the building took cover behind the service desk. Their weapons were drawn, pistols that were only meant to stop lone assailants. It was their job to fight back, but none of them were trained for anything like this. Two of them weren't even trained at all. No one was ever supposed to attack them. The real security was in the embassy across the street. Their presence was theater. As the Grimm lumbered outside, they had a clear view of the bird head as it spiked its head repeatedly into the concrete. The thing hadn't noticed them. They hoped it would stay that way. They cowered away, and the building was so full of blood and fear that the Grimm couldn't notice them throughout the fog. There were much clearer targets. Closer.

Above.

On the third floor of the firm building, the shadows of the people within were watching the hulking thing sulking about beneath them. The snake's beady eyes locked onto their forms above and stretched itself high, forcibly pulling the rest of its body against its will. It rose to the height of the windows, gazing inside. It sensed simple shapes: cubicles. Plants. Elevators. But primarily: the Souls of living things. At least twenty meat sacks were within, some still foolish enough to try recording it with their Scrolls. The snake lost interest, falling back down to whack the bear in the back with its thick skull, grabbing its attention. The bear quickly learned of the snake's intentions, and it understood. Together. They feasted together. It rose up onto its hind legs, and planted itself against the third-story window, able to see more clearly inside; only the bird head was forced to see the floor beneath, screaming at the Humans below as they fled. The Humans started to run away on the third floor, too. Too late. The Grimm leaned back, nearly losing its balance before its wings unfolded and steadied its fall, and then with lazy intent, the Grimm simply fell forward into the window.

The glass shattered all at once, and the Grimm leaned inward into the offices, planting its front talons into the ground for leverage. The floor was unable to hold its weight and instantly collapsed, slanting down toward it and even striking the bird on the top of its head. The Grimm didn't care about the pain—as the floor tilted on the third story, a few hapless Humans were unable to flee in time, and they began to slide down toward the Grimm's open, dripping mouths. It hungrily pawed at them, striking at the office floor, causing it to sink into a deeper slope and hasten their descent toward its gullet. A few cubicles slid down in front of them, ricocheting off the Grimm's face, but that did nothing to deter it from feasting. The snake tried to shove the bear head out of the way but settled for taking the space next to it, eager to feed as well. The five Humans that it managed to trap were sliding closer and closer, and their screams mixed into the cries coming from the Grimm as, despite everything they had within them, they couldn't stop themselves from falling into its clutches. They were so close, but not enough. The bear head, overly eager, strained itself just a little more, lunging into the offices to bite at the closest Human it could find. A young woman. Supple flesh. Good food. She screamed in horror as its jaws closed around her.

There was a flash of red—and then the Grimm realized that it had tasted nothing.

It froze, momentarily confused, and then it saw the red again and again. A sweeping ball of red shot itself along the sloped floor, crossing over the Humans and causing them to vanish in an instant. Its food was suddenly gone. Where? Where was it? It hardly had time to process its disappearance before it felt something else: the parked car from earlier slamming into its two upper heads, sending it crashing back to the ground in a pained heap.

The Humans found themselves in the middle of the square, gasping for breath as they tried making sense of their new surroundings. The Grimm was far away, recovering from its unexpected blow to the heads. The morning sun was beating down on their heads, affirming that they were indeed still alive. They saw nothing to explain how they were alive except for the presence of a young woman standing over them, dressed in a red cloak and carrying a mechanical scythe that was twice her size. They looked at each other, searching for understanding, before the young woman pointed away from the offices and shouted at them.

"Get out of here!" she cried. "Go!"

They didn't need to be told otherwise. They took one more second to recover and then picked each other off the floor and took off running, leaving the young woman alone in the center of the square. Whoever she was, she sounded like she knew what she was doing.

Ruby turned to face the Grimm as she tried to stop her heart from beating out of its chest. From across the square, she saw Weiss racing back toward her, using the same glyphs that she used to launch the car to propel herself away from danger. She hurried back to Ruby's side, and together, they stared down the monster that had been unleashed on Humanity. Weiss's voice was shaky.

"That's…that's a lot bigger than I thought it would be."

The Grimm took its time getting back to its feet, its heads arguing amongst themselves as they tried to figure out what hit them. Ruby checked her environment. Bodies? None. Victims? Hopefully none. Potential victims? Infinite. Time? Running out.

"Weiss," Ruby said to her partner. "I think you better summon something now."

"Y-Yeah," Weiss said with a nod. "Right. On it."

The beast snarled, and once it found its footing, it faced the center of the square. Its eyes fell upon the two young women in front of it, and suddenly, the bear head began to twitch. The girl in red. Familiar. It saw her then. Before. She had shot it. It remembered so clearly. The red girl had shot it directly in its eye. It scraped its foot against the pavement, bowing its head and taking control of its body over from the other heads.

Weiss closed her eyes and held out her sword. Ruby realized the Grimm's intentions.

"Uh, Weiss?"

"Working on it."

The Grimm screamed with its hundreds of voices, and it burst forward, barreling toward her at a frightening speed, each footstep propelling it faster across the square.

"W-Weiss?"

"Give me a sec—"

"Move!"

Weiss suddenly lost her concentration as Ruby grabbed her and flew them away to another street, narrowly dodging as the Grimm threw its face down into the concrete. Weiss and Ruby stumbled out of her Semblance, trying to regain their footing as the Grimm pulled its face free from the rubble. The fear in Ruby's voice was apparent.

"W-Weiss, you're going to need to hurry."

"I know!" Weiss said with frustration. She held out her sword again, but she didn't have time to focus before the Grimm reared its head and charged again, bounding ten feet in a single step. Ruby reached to grab her, but Weiss was already on the move, launching herself away on a glyph to the right. Ruby flew left, hoping to dodge beneath the Grimm's talon and travel behind him. Only half of her plan came to fruition; the talon sailed over her head, but before she could move much further, the Grimm stopped suddenly short and the snake head whipped out toward her, crashing into her and sending her flying in a spray of red rose petals. She smacked against the ground, flesh bounding off the stone, and she was only just able to spring back to her feet as the bear charged toward her again, desperately trying to consume her.

"Weiss! H-Hurry!"

The bear head lunged toward her, but a well-timed blast from Crescent Rose sent her scurrying backward away from it. The Grimm didn't relent, though. It charged again. And again. Swiping. Clawing. Each attack short of its mark but gaining ground. Ruby had traveled halfway across the square, backpedaling and launching herself with gunfire, eyes trapped onto the hulking thing tripping as it lunged over toward her. At her pace, she wouldn't make it to the end.

Weiss closed her eyes. She needed to concentrate. Ruby was going to die if she didn't do something. She had to summon right now. She just had to do what she did last night. Summon the chains. The frog. Anything.

"Weiss, come on! Please!"

Her screams were breaking. Horrified. They blended into the hundred angry cries from the Grimm. Weiss couldn't get them out of her head.

"W-Weiss!"

Dammit. Just fucking summon something. Sword out. Eyes closed. Do it like last night. Focus. Focus. Focus.

"Weiss, I need you—"

And then, Ruby's foot became caught on a piece of rubble, and she tripped over backward. Time came to a sudden stop as the pit dropped in her stomach. Ruby's eyes widened, but her face was otherwise still, shocked as the ground was suddenly taken out from under her. The panic wasn't even there. She was just suddenly falling. How did that happen? She should have looked behind her more, she supposed. Her cape whipped up behind her, the bright red fabric elegantly flowing as the wind picked it up and blew it behind her during her descent. Her legs flew out in front of her, and her weapon—her stupid, useless weapon—sailed up over her head, barely contained within her fingers. She had enough instinct to keep a hold of her scythe for all the good it did her. The Grimm paused, staring at her with its five eyes, watching her fall. Weiss, for a last split-second, closed her eyes, trying to force something into existence. She needed a flash of light, a crash of thunder, the rattling of chains—something to save Ruby. If she was ever going to create something, this would be the time.

The Grimm lunged towards its prey before she even hit the ground. Ruby had no time to brace herself. She was defenseless. Weiss prayed that something would come and save her.

Weiss's eyes shot open.

Nothing.

She had summoned nothing.

The Grimm snapped toward Ruby—but Weiss didn't give up. She slashed her sword through the air and launched a thick wall of ice toward the Grimm. The crooked ice raced across the square, and caught the Grimm around the bear head's neck, freezing it in place before it could reach its food. Ruby crashed to the ground with a thud, and Weiss launched herself toward her girlfriend as fast as she could before the Grimm broke free of its prison. It screamed and clawed at the ice wall, tugging its head and trying to unwedge itself before its prey escaped. It only took a few seconds to free itself; with a pained cry, the snake head thrashed against the ice and shattered it into pieces. Yet, by the time it was free, Weiss had arrived and grabbed ahold of Ruby, and soon they were gone, flying up and away on a glyph to somewhere safe out of its reach.

Ruby looked down below as they left the Grimm behind. It stood up on its hind legs and tried flapping its wings, but it was unable to pick itself more than a few feet off the floor. At their height, they were safe, and she could finally catch her breath. She rested on all fours, looking over the edge of the glyph at the Grimm when she heard Weiss's trembling voice.

"I…I couldn't summon it."

Ruby hadn't noticed how bad Weiss was shaking. She was going to thank her for saving her life, but Weiss seemed so lost in her own distress that Ruby realized that she wouldn't even notice. She was breathing hard, staring unblinkingly at the monster beneath.

"I'm so…I'm so sorry, Ruby," she said. She couldn't even face her.

"Weiss, it's okay," Ruby said carefully. "Just calm down and try again."

"No. You don't get it," Weiss said, shaking her head. Ruby dreaded what Weiss was about to say, and all of her worst fears were quickly confirmed. "It's not working. I could feel it before last night, but…but it's not there. It's not there. I'm sorry."

Ruby wanted to tell her that she was wrong. She had been giving her so much confidence and reassurance over the past few days, but there was always that fundamental fact that had been haunting her mind. Weiss had used her summoning power twice before that night: once during her fight against the Knight of Decum Luna, and the other during her battle with Blake. In both times, her power only arrived during times of stress and defiance. In both times, she had been pushed to the absolute brink, and Ruby thought—no, she knew—that Weiss wouldn't be able to summon without the right incentive. She knew that when Weiss summoned the night before, it could have just been a fluke. It was impossible for Weiss to master that kind of power in just a few hours, and Ruby had hoped and feared that she was only going to be able to unleash her power in full when she was face-to-face with the Grimm itself. She thought that the peril would be enough to motivate her, but it was a dumb gambit. The opposite was just as likely to happen; that faced with her own death, Weiss could seize. She would panic and lose all of the ability she worked so hard to obtain. Ruby knew that could happen—and she let it happen anyway. She had no choice but to put her faith in Weiss, and no matter what she had promised her, or how optimistic she sounded, that horrible part of her knew she was setting up Weiss to fail.

Of course, Weiss wasn't going to be able to summon anything. She never was. Their plan was doomed from the start.

Weiss was shaking so badly. Ruby didn't know what was going on inside of her head, but she had some horrible idea. There wasn't much room to maneuver on the glyph, but Ruby managed to crawl her way to the center and gently grabbed Weiss on the shoulder. Weiss was stunned, her gaze locked forever onto the gaping, dripping jaws of the Grimm, but Ruby was able to slowly pry her away from the edge and turn her around. Weiss's breathing was strained but Ruby caressed her cheek, and no matter how much she was overcome by guilt, she stilled when Ruby pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eye.

"Weiss…it's okay," Ruby promised her. "It's okay. I understand. It's not your fault."

Weiss couldn't comprehend it. It was all counting on her. Hundreds of lives, all on her. They needed her and she was failing them. But Ruby was still there for her, holding her. She didn't get it.

"I'm trying, Ruby," Weiss told her. "I swear, I'm trying."

"I know, you are."

"It's not working. I-I can't feel it at all. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ruby said. "We knew this could happen."

"I can keep trying—"

"No. It's okay. Don't strain yourself. If it's not working, we'll just…we'll go to Plan B. We'll do what we can."

Weiss shook her head. "Wait, Ruby. I can try again. I just need…I just need to concentrate."

Ruby gripped Weiss's head tighter. "Weiss, look at yourself. You're not focusing. You're injured. If you can't summon, you shouldn't try to fight."

Weiss refused to accept that. Ruby saw tears well up in her eyes, but she couldn't let that get to her. Weiss had struggled for so long with feeling useless, but even if she was falling short now, Ruby couldn't allow her to start believing that again.

"Ruby, please—"

"Stop. Think," Ruby said sternly. "What is the most important thing?"

Weiss had to stop and consider it. Shakily, she remembered why they were there.

"S-Saving lives."

Ruby nodded carefully. "Right. Saving lives. We can't kill the Grimm, but we can get people out of here. I need you to focus on that, okay?"

Focus on saving lives.

Focus.

Dammit…

Weiss shook away her tears, and calmed her nerves. She had failed—but it wasn't over yet. She was still alive. As long as her heart was beating, she could still do something. Ruby was holding her so close, and Weiss didn't know if it was possible to transfer hope through contact, but she could feel Ruby's encouragement coursing through her.

"Is this Plan B?"

Ruby clenched her jaw. "Yeah. Plan B."

Weiss sighed into Ruby's touch. "You do realize that Plan B is the one where we both die, right?"

Ruby smirked. "Yeah."

Yeah.

Weiss just closed her eyes and waited. They could just stay on that glyph forever, couldn't they? Stay far above where the Grimm would never reach them. Eventually, it would lose interest and leave. Maybe someone else would come along and find a way to stop it. They could have just accepted that their mission wasn't successful and stayed together. Then again, they could have just stayed at Ruby's house. They could have chosen a simpler life, but that wasn't who they are. So many times in Weiss's life, she had been forced to do so many things. For once, she had been able to choose the path ahead of her. And yes, that path would lead to her own death, and she could have hated the irony of that. She could have cursed her fate, but choosing one's life meant choosing their death.

Plan B was what they came up with right before their bead; it was the backup plan that they feared they'd never have to enact. Even calling it a plan was generous.

Weiss would evacuate the area.

Ruby, using her speed Semblance, would keep the Grimm distracted.

If they were lucky, Weiss would finish clearing the area and escape with Ruby or try to summon again.

They weren't going to be lucky.

Ruby helped Weiss up to her feet. There wasn't a lot of room up on the glyph, but they were able to stay close enough together to keep their balance. The three Grimm heads screamed at them from below, clawing and snapping at the air. Soon, it would give up and try to attack the surrounding areas again. They would need to move, but…Weiss just wanted to stay close to Ruby a little longer. They were mere inches apart, but Ruby's gaze had already returned to the battlefield. She was planning her pathway around the square. That…that was important. It could have been the last time they ever saw each other. Weiss thought to lean in and just kiss her right there, but she couldn't afford to distract Ruby now. She would save their kiss for when they survived—or the next life. Whichever came first.

"Be careful," Weiss said with a sad smile. "Don't trip again."

Ruby, sighing and shaking her head, pushed up her glasses. "So you can make fun of me? Wouldn't dream of it."

Ruby took a step back toward the edge and allowed herself to fall over—and in a burst of red rose petals, she raced toward the Grimm.

Even on the other side of the city, Blake could hear the screams of the Grimm. All hundreds of them. Probably everyone in Remnant could hear them. She stared out toward the towering skyscrapers, her imagination determining what horror was happening beyond their structures. Ruby, Weiss…fuck, they seriously couldn't stop it. And it was all because of the intel she gave them. She set them up for failure. She didn't know how much of her fear was visible until Mrs. Glass started to snicker at her.

"Well…that doesn't sound good, does it?"

Adam brushed his hand through his hair, trying to ignore the sounds. The other Faunus behind reacted differently. The younger-looking ones seemed to tremble, actively looking toward the sounds of destruction. The older ones—the weary ones—kept their focus and guns trained on Blake. Glass casually stretched her arms over her head, walking amidst them with all of the confidence of a tyrant.

"I guess you're plan failed. Isn't that unfortunate?"

Blake clenched her fist, sneering as she turned back to the woman who had unleashed that monster on the city. The glass woman got tired of making fun of Blake, but continued teasing her even through her bored tone.

"How many people do you think have died yet?" Glass asked. "It's had to have eaten at a dozen by now. Hopefully, the police will arrive soon. Maybe they'll bring a Huntsman or two for it to snack on. Let them throw whatever they can at it. Then again, the stupid thing might take a while to fight back."

"You…you're fucking insane," Blake hissed, cocking her weapon.

"Am I now?" Glass asked. "Well, maybe. Can I confess something? When I told you before that I created Blondie to be in constant pain to make it stronger. That was only partially true. The truth is…I was curious. A Grimm that could barely walk, three conscious beings fused together as one—it's an inferior killing machine. And yet…how much destruction do you think it can cause even as it is? It's a cruel thought, isn't it? Hundreds of Human beings being slaughtered at the hands of a bastardized creation. It's humiliating."

Adam's mouth twisted into a snarl, and Blake, seeing his weakness, desperately snapped at Glass. "So, what? This is a fucking game to you then? Not really all that big on helping the Faunus, are you?"

"It can be both. We're sending a message. Aren't we, Adam?" He rolled his head back, trying to quell his anger. His hand fidgeted over his weapon as he debated what to do. He wasn't going to use it on her. Blake had figured that out. He was considering whether to use it on someone else. Cinder paused behind him, narrowing her gaze toward the back of his head. She gently rested her hand on his shoulder. "Aren't we, Adam?"

He shrugged, forcing her hand off of him, but she wasn't offended. She knew she had him under his thumb, and when she growled and spoke up, Blake realized that he was truly lost.

"Look, Belle. It's over. The Grimm is out. Just come with us already."

He had to be kidding. Was he really offering a chance to turn this around after all of this? The worst part was that she could almost see his logic. Her mission had failed. She wasn't going to be redeemed anyway, so why not live to fight another day? Why not thrive? Maybe he was really that gullible to believe that she would abandon all of her morals again—or maybe she was foolish enough to believe that she wouldn't. The things that he had made her do in the past dwarfed whatever he was asking from her now. He was convinced that he could get her back under his thumb.

She aimed her gun away from Adam, instead directing it toward Mrs. Glass.

"Not going to happen."

Adam held up his arm to block his companion, but Glass seemed more amused by Blake's defiance than fearful.

"Fascinating. You really are going to fight even if there's no hope of winning," Glass mused. "Is dying really worth that much to you?"

Adam sneered, daring Blake to make the first move. "It's because she's stubborn. She always has been."

Blake hid her trembling as the screams from the Grimm continued to echo across the city. Her enhanced senses picked up every individual Human cry. She had run out of time, but it wasn't too late to right some old wrongs.

"So are we going to just keep trading barbs," Blake asked simply, "or do you just want to fight already?"

Those were the magic words. Adam quelled his inner doubts, and in one fluid motion, he drew out his blade—a long, red sword that Blake remembered from the first day he ever met him. He had called it wilt, and given what their relationship had deteriorated into, she couldn't think of a more appropriate name. He had told her it could cut through anything. Her weapon had already been cut into pieces once that week along its chord. Ruby repaired it well, but she wondered if even its blade would be able to withstand a blow from Adam's weapon. She supposed she was going to find out either way.

Glass leaned lovingly on Adam's shoulder. Blake hesitated—and then, from far away on the street behind her, she heard the revving of a car engine. She took a step toward them.

"Guess we're doing this," Adam groaned. "I can't make promises I won't kill you, Belle."

The car drew closer, closing in on Blake as she closed in on her former lover.

"Same here," Blake said bluntly. They stood confidently, completely unaware of the vehicle's presence. To them, the audio of the car was canceled out by the screams. And visually…

"You fought for so long for a cause," Glass sighed, "and now, after all that, you've come to die alone."

Blake changed her weapon's form back into a sword. The other Faunus drew their weapons. They perked up. Something was wrong, but they couldn't tell what. The sound of the car grew in intensity.

"Yeah, but see, that's kind of the thing," Blake said.

A dry smirk crossed her face. Glass examined Blake closely, baffled by her sudden display of confidence—and then she noticed it. That strange sound racing toward them. From Glass's perspective, all she had seen was a lone girl with black hair on an empty, desolate street, casually approaching them with a death wish. But there was that noise drawing violently closer, coming from an impossible location. The road behind Blake seemed completely empty, and yet that noise was unquestionably a car racing along from the same barren road, speeding toward them. It seemed like some kind of trick. She saw nothing, absolutely nothing from behind Blake, and the rebellious young assassin seemed undeterred by the invisible car that was about to ram into her from behind. Glass pushed off Adam's shoulder and summoned a knife of her namesake material in her palm, ready to meet Blake halfway and strike her down herself. And yet, she remained smiling right up until the car engine was screaming in her face.

"I didn't exactly come alone."

And Blake exploded—not into flesh and blood, but out towards her enemies in thousands of tiny glass shards. The entire world in front of them seemed to shatter like a mirror breaking over them, and bursting through that mirror, entering their reality from the world beyond the mirror, was a large black van which roared as it crashed into Mrs. Glass. She crumpled under the weight of the vehicle as it pushed forward into the crowd. Adam managed to roll out of the way as the van barreled into the sidewalk, dodging into the street. His allies weren't so lucky, two were struck by the van as it careened out of control, and two more inside of their car were struck as the van spun out and crashed hard into its bumper. The van squealed to a stop upon contact, leaving behind a refuge of twisted metal. Adam gasped, trying to find his breath as well as any explanation for what happened. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone scream from above him. He only just managed to get his sword up to block Blake's attack as she dove toward him from the top of the building. Their metals clashed and they pushed away from each other, deflecting and standing off from a few feet. Blake rushed after him again, fearless.

From the floor, Mrs. Glass groaned as she struggled to get back to her feet. The van struck her hard in the ribs, and the glass index finger on her left hand had broken upon impact. Her vision was that of only blurry concrete as the other sounds started to fill into her senses. The impact of Blake and Adam's swords. Yelling. Panic. Gunfire from above. She lazily rolled her eyes towards the van, where men in dark suits had filed out and were unloading gunfire and swords onto her Faunus allies. With a hiss, she pulled her facemasks away and scanned the environment for more invisible enemies.

She found them higher up. They were on the same fire escape where she had rested, perching themselves casually like gargoyles. One—a blond, monkey-ish boy with a grin of cocky fire—dangled upside-down from the grating. The other—short, pink-haired, pale, sharply dressed, face concealed by the dipped rim of a top hat—sat on the railing with her legs crossed and a parasol twirling on her shoulder. Her smile was thinner than that of the boy's, barely concealing her malice toward the glass woman. They weren't expecting her to be there, having arrived only for a favor. Yet, they would hardly miss out on a chance to greet her once again. In her daze, Mrs. Glass's perfect memory briefly failed her, but it didn't take long for her to remember them. Of course, they had never forgotten her.

She did try to feed them to a bird, after all. It was hard not to hold grudges.