Chapter One Hundred and Fifty Seven

...

Maxwell's good mood was fading fast and, worse, he was losing his patience, too. He had decided to get Will's testimonial about what had happened before returning to the parking lot where Pat and his partners were most likely instigating another 'tickle fight,' but that had obviously been his first mistake. Where Maxwell thought he'd be able to keep Will on track with the Morton's limousine, it had been fifteen minutes and Will still hadn't shut up about his fight with Larry on the weekend.

It all culminated when Larry himself slammed the door open - the glass rattling in the frame - and started yelling at Mr. Medulla to ignore whatever Will had said, as he was the winner of their fight! Mr. Medulla was surprised by his sudden entrance, but also by the state of the young man's hair, as though he'd been zapped by static electricity.

"Stop! Both of you, stop! This instant!" Maxwell bellowed, wishing for a moment that he had Boomer's power. "Dear god, just stop!"

"That's the kind of stop I heard from Pad."

Maxwell felt a vein throbbing in his forehead. "If I hear another word from either of you about this ridiculous and childish fight, you will be in detention and forced to attend Saturday school detention until you graduate. I will make your every day a living nightmare and I will enjoy it."

Will and Larry both stopped talking reluctantly, glaring at each other.

"Larry, go to your locker or club or home group."

"This is my home group, Mr. Medulla."

Maxwell's eye twitched. "Leave."

Larry decided not to push his luck and fled.

"Will, you have thirty seconds to tell me exactly what happened this morning as succinctly as possible. Succinctly means in as few words as possible," Medulla added when Will looked confused.

"I wanted to tell Pad about the fight," Will said, hoping he wouldn't get detention and summer school for another mention, "and I heard him screaming 'no, don't. Stop' so I thought I could save him."

"By ripping the door off the car? You didn't even think to check your assumption was correct first?" Medulla asked.

"Heroes Act First," Will said, posing subconsciously.

Maxwell groaned internally. Super Jesus, he'd forgotten about that campaign from the 90s. It had been when the Commander had had a mullet, and apparently, the only reason he'd cut it was because his hair kept flying into Jetstream's face. The only thing Maxwell remembered was that damn pose, the mullet, and bright red, blue, and white 'Heroes Act First' written above his head. Well, that was a lie. He remembered it all - he remembered everything, after all - but he had loathed that campaign, since it had been released soon after the Commander had destroyed his laboratory and he'd lost his government job.

"Very well. You can leave now," Maxwell said, gathering another five forms for the other teenagers in the car.

"I don't need to do anything else?" Will asked.

"You need to listen to a simple instruction and leave."

Will practically flew out of the room when he realised that a vein was pulsing on Mr. Medulla's forehead. Maxwell closed the door behind him, ensured the glass was secure in the frame, and sat at his desk to give himself a few more minutes of peace and to get his emotions under control before he had to deal with more teenagers.

The problem with remembering everything meant that he still remembered how he felt as he watched almost twelve years' of work being destroyed by the Commander punching stuff. The pain in his chest as all of his research went up in flames, several nameless people holding him back as the Commander followed their commands without thinking about what it might mean for the lives and livelihoods of those who worked at the laboratory.

One experiment went well, and life was golden with generous grants and extra staff approved. Then one experiment went wrong, and it all went up in a cloud of smoke. Well, smoke and rubble. He could still remember the feeling of mortar and brick crumbling and turning to dust against his face, his life's work destroyed by a few punches by a Neanderthal who fit the 'brawn but no brain' stereotype to a T.

Maxwell tried to think of something other than his life's research being not only destroyed, but stolen as well.

Oh, the nameless agents thought he wouldn't have known, but Maxwell had seen them leave with boxes of paper prior to the Commander's arrival. They'd been dressed as faceless interns, and they would have been ignored if anyone else had been there. But Maxwell knew all of his colleagues and workers at the laboratory by name and face. The agents had printed several reams worth of research, boxing it, and leaving without being questioned while Maxwell was in a meeting with their latest contributor. Due to the recent grant that had been approved for their research, Maxwell and his team had been moving between laboratories at the time and no one else had noticed a few extra boxes and people moving in and out constantly. Unfortunately, Maxwell had left the meeting early and immediately noticed the newcomers and questioned their presence. Later that day, an experiment had gone wrong, the event had been declared as a fiasco, and his laboratory had been quarantined and deemed a danger to society. The Commander had arrived in a matter of minutes, sans Jetstream and All-American Boy for once, and done what he'd done best: punched things.

Breathing in deeply, Maxwell registered the scent of his girlfriends and the memory of their lovemaking, breaking the hold the painful memory had on his mind. He remembered how close they'd held him, their whispers of love, Beth's soft and sweet kisses, and Eliza's hard and eager kisses. Stopping the memory before he had to deal with a problem of a different kind, Maxwell exhaled and opened his eyes.

Realising that he'd crushed the papers in his hands, he went to photocopy another five forms and return to the limousine. He made sure to cough loudly on his approach so he wouldn't startle the teenagers or car.

As they wrote their testimonies, several students and two buses arrived, and soon everyone knew what Will had done to Pat's car. No one believed Pat about the tickle fight, considering more than one hickey was featured high on his neck, but Will's destruction and disregard of his property was too obvious to refute.

"I suppose I'll have to borrow Sorcha's car while mine's getting fixed," Pat said, sighing heavily.

"Your sister will let you borrow Brie, won't she?" Maleah asked.

"Aye, she will. But she'll hold it over my head until she wants something in return."

Kiara snorted and signed her name, handing the form back to Mr. Medulla. "That's just a smart business move, Pat dear."

Maleah nodded in agreement, collecting the other four forms and passing them to Mr. Medulla. "It is; I'd do the same against any of them. In fact, Najair still owes me for my makeup."

"What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine, Mal," Najair said with a grin.

Maleah glared and started in a rush of Spanish, swearing and threatening several things involving scissors and his favourite skirt.

"It's your skirt, Mal," Najair said.

"And you look better in it than I do. Shut up."

Najair grinned and flipped his pink hair over his shoulder. "Of course I do."

Kiara tugged her brother's pink braid and led him into the building while Lorcan held Maleah back with arms wrapped around her stomach. Pat kissed her cheek gently and picked up her bag, Lorcan letting his sister go when their siblings were safely inside. Maleah cursed under her breath and decided running was a waste of energy.

Maxwell waited until they'd left to look at the mess of the car, door, and broken window. "You'll stay here while I get photos for the insurance claim?"

"Of course, Mr. Medulla. Can you add emotional trauma to the claim?"

"For... you?"

"I had a door wrenched off by a barbaric child with muscles instead of brain cells. Of course I'm traumatised."

"And you have perfect soundproofing, so how exactly did Will hear Pat?"

There was a silence for a long moment, one that Maxwell could only call petulant.

"It was supposed to be funny and embarrass Master Patrick, not cause me harm."

"I'll get the camera while you think on that."

"I have already processed the guilt and irony. I don't appreciate either."

"No one does when it's at their expense," Maxwell said over his shoulder, heading into the school to get his camera.

Perhaps one of the students on the newspaper could practice their crime scene photography skills, he mused.

...

Magenta felt like shit.

Not only had Will gone to Westville without her, he'd fought Earthstone for some reason that no one could agree on, and her family hadn't stopped speculating about the 'could haves' all weekend.

Mami: If she'd gone with him, her precious baby could have been hurt or crushed, like those poor citizens.

Cy: If she'd gone with Will, he could have thrown her at Earthstone and hurt her in some way to get his revenge.

Papa: If she'd gone with that boy, she could have been forgotten or left behind.

Magenta wondered if they were right.

At least Cerulean hadn't said anything, but Magenta knew her youngest brother still didn't truly comprehend what had actually happened. He'd been busy playing lions and water dragons, and didn't care about what was on the TV.

Still, her family's comments made her feel small and unwanted, and she'd spent the night crying herself into a restless sleep. She'd woken up with a headache and just wanted to curl up in her guinea pig nest and sleep. Fortunately, she'd woken up before her alarm and was able to fall back to sleep. Unfortunately, it was a Monday morning and that meant school.

Her mother's knocking had jarred Magenta from her prolonged sleep, and she'd realised she was running late, her alarm disabled in a drowsy haze almost an hour ago. She'd showered and dressed, but was too late to have a proper breakfast, running for the bus before it took off without her. The ride up to Sky High made her feel nauseous on top of everything else since Ron Wilson, bus driver, hadn't exactly handled the turbulence that morning.

So her morning hadn't gone great, and Mr. Boy had decided to do various physical activities for Defence for Hero Support, which meant more running and queasiness and hunger pains on top of it all. She'd shifted to her guinea pig form to avoid a blade (covered in rubber corks, even though it was so blunt it probably couldn't have cut mashed potato), and had taken almost five minutes to gather the energy to shift back.

She'd been woozy enough that Mr. Boy was worried and made her sit on the bench. He'd given her a granola bar and water and made her feel better just with his worry and care. The granola bar had helped enough to get her through to recess without wanting to puke, thankfully.

Despite her awful night and morning, she felt even worse right now, because she was stuck in front of Larry in the cafeteria line. He was talking about his fight with Airborne on the weekend, bringing back all of the memories and feelings from her family's comments. Her stomach was rumbling loud enough to interrupt Larry's monologuing, and Magenta turned bright red when Larry stopped talking.

"Of course, considering Airborne has a sidekick, I was really surprised to hear he works alone. The news stations all liked that line, didn't they, Shifter?" Larry sneered.

Larry had discovered that no one really cared about his rendition of the Epic Showdown. They'd asked him questions in home group, but neither he nor Will could talk about it without Mr. Medulla glaring at them. Now, all anyone could talk about was how Will had destroyed Patrick's car, and he'd missed his chance to be known as the victor. As a result, Larry felt small and insignificant, and he wanted to make others feel the same way so he could lord over them for something, at least. Magenta was an easy target.

Magenta was going to wrap her hands around his scrawny little neck and squeeze. Or she was going to cry, she wasn't entirely sure.

"Next!"

Swallowing hard, Magenta stepped forward in the line. She was angry enough to cry and upset enough to cry, but she was too hungry to care right now. She just wanted to get food, eat, and rest her eyes.

"No comment, Shifter? I was surprised Airborne didn't take you with him to our fight. Maybe he thinks you can't do anything? Not against a power like mine," Larry said with a sneer.

"Shut up!" Magenta said, turning and glaring at him.

"No need to snap at me, Shifter. I'm just telling the truth," he said with an innocent expression.

"Is something the matter here?" Mr. Boy asked, stepping forward with a frown.

"Larry's being a bully and trying to make Magenta feel small; Magenta's starving and nauseous. I vote for chopping Larry up into small pieces and eating him instead of your food," Donny called, a few people back in the line. "Also, can you hurry? You're not the only one who's hungry."

Magenta's eyes filled with tears at the idea of Donny sticking up for her. She hadn't known what to say or what to do, her head was killing her, and she didn't even think Donny liked her!

Mr. Boy's eyes widened. "You're bullying Magenta, Larry? I am so very disappointed to hear that! I thought you were better than that. Come with me this instant."

"But... but it's our recess break, Mr. Boy. I need food!"

Mr. Boy's resolve faltered for a moment, then he saw the tears in Magenta's eyes. "You should have thought about that before bullying someone. We have an anti-bullying initiative for a reason. Now, come with me to the Principal's office, Mr. Levinsky," he said sternly.

Too many people were staring and watching, and Larry had to follow Mr. Boy to the Principal's office. Of all the teachers at Sky High, no one had expected Mr. Boy to actually follow through on the anti-bullying initiative.

"You're up next, Maj. Get some food, okay?" Wendy said, nodding to the line that had a large gap ahead of her.

Magenta forced herself to nod and close the gap, grabbing food and feeling better even as she went to her table with Will. Magenta tried not to roll her eyes, focusing on eating her food instead of listening to her boyfriend regaling people - both willing and unwilling - yet again with his rendition of the Epic Showdown That He Had Definitely Won.

...

Linda was still trying to field calls about the stupid and childish fight that had occurred between two of her students when the bell for recess rang. To have one of them in her office five minutes later with Mr. Boy accusing Larry of bullying did not give her much optimism for how the rest of her day would go.

"Thank you, Mr. Boy. You can return to the cafeteria; I'll deal with Mr. Levinsky," Principal Powers said.

Jonathan looked relieved and nodded, leaving her office as fast as possible, the door closing behind him.

"Now, why don't you tell me what's going on, Mr. Levinsky? First, you and Mr. Stronghold fought in public, injuring citizens in the process, and now, you're degrading Miss Yolanda?"

"I don't get what the big deal is; she's just a sidekick!" Larry burst out.

Linda's eye twitched. She contemplated stepping out of her office, shifting, and never coming back to Earth until humans were kinder. Or replaced by lizard overlords. Maybe five billion years would be long enough for her to forget the look of superiority on Larry's face in that moment.

Principal Powers wondered what she had been thinking when she'd seen Earth from space, but she knew as if it had been just yesterday: I love it. She had fallen in love instantly with the blue oceans, the green and brown land masses, and hundreds of white swirls of clouds and atmosphere decorating the planet. It was pulsing with life, even back then, and Linda had been breathless at the idea of being among that life and seeing it evolve and grow. For a comet, being breathless was a feat, yet seeing Earth had managed it easily. She'd changed her trajectory, and even as she broke through the atmosphere, Linda hoped she wouldn't cause too much irreparable damage to the beautiful planet. Her crash landing creating the Grand Canyon was the least of her worries, especially these days.

Forcing herself to inhale and exhale slowly, Linda gave him a chance. "I beg your pardon?"

Larry's eyes widened at Principal Powers' ice-cold tone and he swallowed hard. "She's just... hero support?" he corrected weakly.

"And that means she isn't human, or doesn't have emotions, or she somehow deserves to be belittled and degraded?" Principal Powers asked.

Unlike last year with Ben and Lisa where she had shouted and raged, Principal Powers' voice never raised higher than her normal tone, and she felt like she was in space again, her body frozen and voice as cold as a comet's tail.

Larry closed and opened his mouth several times. He had no way of responding without implicating himself further and tried for a meek tone that had often fooled his mother. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," Linda said coolly. There wasn't a hint of remorse in his expression - certainly not one she believed after being around humans for this damn long - and she shook her head. "Consider this your first strike in the anti-bullying initiative. You have detention for the whole week, Larry - "

Somehow, Principal Powers using his first name rather than 'Mr. Levinsky' felt worse than the idea of detention and being in that horrible power-repressing room.

" - and I'll be calling your parents to let them know of your behaviour."

Fuck.

...

As promised, Mr. Medulla gave the juniors their Mad Science mock midterms. Corvin was seated next to Ryuu, who had been given a small booklet of exam questions, rather than the six pages of questions like the rest of the class. He didn't envy the other boy at all, but Ryuu seemed excited about it.

"It's to see if I can do the Advanced Mad Science AP to get extra credit for university," Ryuu whispered, seeing Corvin's eyes widen at the small booklet.

"Good luck."

Ry grinned and nodded. "You too."

Corvin didn't hate Mad Science, not like Maths, but he just wasn't interested in it. He managed to finish all six pages' worth of questions in the allocated time - thankfully, three pages had been multiple choice - but he doubted he'd got more than a pass, at best.

Glancing over to Ryuu, he saw that the other boy was still working on his test. Apparently, he wasn't the only one watching, either, Corvin thought to himself when he saw that Will Stronghold had physically turned in his seat to look at Ry. Like that wasn't fucking creepy or anything. Corvin glared at Will, who caught his gaze and started in surprise, then glared right back at him.

"Mr. Stronghold, have you finished your test?" Mr. Medulla asked.

"Yes. Yes, Mr. Medulla," he corrected quickly, holding out his paper.

"Then you can start on the homework," Mr. Medulla said, taking the paper.

Corvin rolled his eyes when Will looked confused at the instruction; they'd been told their homework tasks at the start of the class, and the tasks were even written on the board. Raising his hand, he waited for Mr. Medulla to notice him before lowering his arm.

"Yes, Mr. Ilmatar?" Mr. Medulla asked, stopping by their desk in a way that ensured Will couldn't see Ryuu.

Corvin noticed that Ryuu relaxed almost instantly and felt like he could fly at Stronghold's head and peck his eyes out without a feather's weight of remorse. "I've finished my test as well; can I start on my homework?" Corvin asked.

Taking a chance, he signed something in sign language, hoping that Mr. Medulla would understand him and no one else would. Ryuu glanced at him sharply and Mr. Medulla straightened, looking at him with a new consideration or - dare he say it? - respect. Ryuu looked like he wanted to say something, but still had to finish his advanced test, and continued to work while he could and wasn't being stared at. Mr. Medulla, on the other hand, nodded briefly.

"Of course, Mr. Ilmatar. Thank you for asking." Mr. Medulla looked from Corvin to the test he'd handed him, a small and amused expression on his face. "I don't assign extra points for drawings, Mr. Ilmatar. They are cute, though."

Corvin saw he'd drawn a basic image of a fennec fox and rabbit on his test and felt his ears burning. Shit, he hadn't even realised he'd drawn them. Deciding to focus on his homework - the more he got done in class now, the more time he'd have to try to find the fox and bunny at home - Corvin nodded wordlessly and opened his Mad Science for the Modern Scientist textbook.

Mr. Medulla returned to his desk at the front of the classroom. "Mr. Stronghold, as you have yet to start your homework, you can complete a task for me. It's a very important task," he added.

Will's eyes widened and he nodded. "Of course, Mr. Medulla. What important task can I do for you?"

"I need you to go through all of the products in the Mad Science cupboard and write down a list of what is included in each bottle. Single line for each ingredient, alphabetical order, and don't spill them or you could die," Mr. Medulla added.

Corvin bit his tongue so he wouldn't laugh; Medulla didn't exactly sound sad about the prospect. The "important" task was obviously created out of thin air and was nothing more than an excuse to get Will out of the classroom.

Will determined that Mr. Medulla had asked him to do this task because he trusted and respected him. He grinned and nodded. "Yes, Mr. Medulla, sir."

Beside him, Ryuu relaxed when Will left the classroom with his notebook and pen in hand, and tapped on the table in Morse Code.

Thanks.

Corvin grinned and turned his attention back to his homework and textbook.

...

"You saved my ass and my grade. Thanks, Corvin," Ryuu said as they left the Mad Science classroom, Craig speeding past a second later.

"Hurry up, slow pokes! I've got dibs on texting Layla and Warren!" Craig called over his shoulder with a laugh.

"If he crashes into anyone, I'm not picking his ass up," Adam muttered.

"I've gotta pee. Wait for me?" Ryuu asked, Adam nodding before he'd finished asking. Ry ran as fast as possible to the bathroom.

"Nice work with getting Stronghold out of the classroom, Corvin," Adam said as they followed after Ry in the direction of their lockers.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Corvin replied, grinning.

Adam snorted, shouldering his bag as he waited by the bathroom door for Ry. "Sure. Now, get your shit and meet us back here. Do it quickly though; I'm hungry, and the frogs were meant to bring the picnic basket today. You are sitting with us, right?"

"Me?" Corvin clarified.

"No, the invisible kid standing behind you. Yes, you," Adam said, rolling his eyes.

"Uh. Yeah, why not?"

"Please, don't sound so excited; I can't handle it," Adam deadpanned.

Corvin laughed and headed to his locker. Maybe his mother was right and they could handle him being a sarcastic bastard, after all.

By the time he made it back to the bathroom, Ryuu and Adam were waiting and talking about something in low voices. Corvin tried not to feel too left out by it, but it wasn't like he could really help that feeling.

"Ah, there you are. We're just talking about the new level of Kwazy Kupcakes. You played that game?" Ry asked.

"Yeah. I haven't updated to the newest version yet, so I haven't seen the new level. Do they still have the liquorice straps?"

"Ugh, yes. Worse, they've brought back the strawberry bombs," Ry said, wrinkling his nose.

"Worse than that, they took away the defroster but left the chocolate frosting," Adam said.

"But how do you break the frosting without the defroster?" Corvin asked, frowning.

"Well-placed strawberry bombs. It's goddamn hard," Adam muttered.

"I'm hungry and I also want to play. C'mon, guys, before Craig eats our food," Ry said, hurrying ahead to the cafeteria.

Adam and Corvin almost barrelled into Ry as he stopped abruptly a few steps into the cafeteria. Neither teen could blame him, considering the cafeteria was blanketed in a thick white layer of snow, ice crystals formed on most tables, and the temperature freezing.

"What the fuck happened here?" Ry asked incredulously, eyes wide.

...

With Will at school and Steve at an open house, Josie found a spare hour in her own day. She had been booked in for an open house herself, but then the client had cancelled on her for once, and she decided to use the time to prepare an elaborate dinner for her boys. Steve was still smarting over the whole thing with the Mayor, and while Will's grades were improving thanks to her excellent tutelage, it felt like he was either studying or patrolling Westville, so a fancy dinner together would be just what they needed to bond again as a family.

Not to mention, if she finished cooking the dinner early, she could close up the Stronghold Realty for the rest of the day and treat herself to a spa afternoon with Steve none the wiser. It wouldn't be the first time the realty had been closed for a few hours since it opened, and like Steve often liked to say: they were rich enough to afford an afternoon off. If Steve garnered any interest in the open house, she might even take him along to the spa.

A couple's massage could be just what the doctor ordered, she mused.

A firm knock at the front door surprised Josie, but she headed to answer it, thinking that Steve had locked himself out or the postman had arrived with another box of TV remotes and phones, perhaps. Her smile faltered and fell entirely when she saw Ms. Martin standing at the door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Stronghold. May we come inside?"

Josie had been so distracted by Ms. Martin that she hadn't even seen the giant and towering man behind her. Swallowing hard at the sight of a fierce and bulky man - he reminded her of that security guard hired by the Morton's, but it certainly wasn't him - she tried to glare at the intimidation tactics the lawyer had obviously lowered herself to. "Is this how your law firm works now, Ms. Martin? Intimidation tactics and bullying?"

Ms. Martin smiled cruelly. "It's nice to know that's how you view this visit, Mrs. Stronghold. Quentin here is my ride and I didn't want him waiting in the car after he was so generous to offer to drive me here. May we come inside?"

Josie bit back a remark about Ms. Martin being just like a vampire and needing to be invited inside, and stepped back to let them through the door. "What is all of this about anyway, Ms. Martin?"

"Your son damaged Patrick Morton the Third's car this morning. I've brought the invoice for the repairs."

Josie glared. "You could have sent it to the office. Our alter-ego's address is on file with the DA, after all."

"Yes, I could have, but I saw your car in the driveway when we were heading that way. I thought it best to drop it off here since you were likely to return to the car before the office," Ms. Martin said pointedly.

"How much are the repairs? They've got to be costly if you're delivering an invoice in person."

Ms. Martin smiled thinly. "Yes, they are. Here, you can see the cost for yourself," she said, taking an A4-sized envelope from her briefcase and holding it out.

Unwinding the string, Josie glanced at the large man - what had Ms. Martin said his name was? Quell or Kent or something? - and wondered what he was really there for. He hadn't said a word yet, and she didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Steeling herself and, more importantly, her expression for a cost of a thousand or so, Josie tugged the paper from the envelope to see the cost of repairs. On seeing the number with far too many zeros her mouth dropped and all of the air seemed to leave her body. Without even realising, she sank down onto the kitchen stool.

"What... How? Ten thousand dollars?! Is it plated in gold or something?! What on earth was broken?" Josie demanded, glaring between the lawyer and the invoice. "And why is the invoice supplied by Mr. Morton himself? That's not legal, and you should know that! I want, no, I demand a second quote. And a third!"

Ms. Martin smiled again, and there was an evil glint in her eye that made Josie itch to bring Jetstream out. "Unfortunately for you, that's not possible. There's only one mechanic in the US that can legally fix or modify AI-equipped vehicles. There are hundreds or even thousands of mechanics that can deal with jet-propulsion, but AI is a new feature that no one else has mastered as of yet."

Josie grit her teeth and barely refrained from asking how on earth there was only one damn mechanic that could do this particular thing. Looking at the itemised list of what had been done for the car, she glared at the piece of paper and then looked up to glare at Ms. Martin. "How on earth does a broken door result in the whole damn car needing to be rewired?!"

Ms. Martin glanced at Quentin and smiled. "Quentin, would you mind explaining?"

"Yes, Ms. Martin."

A minute later, Josie's eyes were glazed over with the technical jargon and excessive explanations that not even she understood. She was smart and did all of the technological things that Steve could barely operate, but Quentin's explanation was far above and beyond anything that she recognised or understood. As her glazed expression started to clear, Josie's jaw clenched. She hated feeling stupid, and this towering beast of a man was obviously using ridiculous jargon on purpose to make her feel that way!

"Quentin, not everyone here is a mechanic. Smaller terms, please," Ms. Martin said gently, her own head spinning.

"Oh. Sorry," Quentin said bashfully. "As the car includes AI and other advanced features, information transmitted wirelessly from the door to the rest of the car. Wrenching the door off destroyed the connection to the rest of the wires, so they need to be reset with the new door. There's extra components involved, but that's the smaller terms. The window was meant to be bullet-proof, but your son damaged it easily, so that needs to be upgraded and replaced as well. I included a list of each of the items, their cost, and your discount off the total on the second page," he added, nodding to the papers held limply in Josie's hand.

Josie felt a vein throb in her temple and forced herself to unclench her teeth and breathe once more. "This is discounted?"

"Of course. Insurance claims require multiple quotes, as you yourself requested. As there are no other legal avenues available to repair the damage done to the Morton's property, a discount was applied. Against my own advice, Mrs. Morton has also very kindly added an additional discount to ensure you don't pay for upgrades, only replacements. David Ackerman even signed off on it and ensured all legal requirements were fulfilled. His signature is on the last page," Ms. Martin prompted.

As Josie looked at the itemised list of all the required replacements, including discounts from the insurance claim, Morton's themselves, and the legal requirements, she didn't know if she was more upset by the fact that they were insinuating that a Stronghold couldn't afford the original repairs or if she was more glad that the discounts had been applied. Thirty-thousand dollars was far too much money to spend on a damn car, that's for sure!

"AAA Contractors offer a payment plan if you can't afford it all at once," Quentin offered, trying to be helpful.

That vein throbbed in Josie's forehead again. "I can pay. In fact, I'll pay for it right now!" she snapped, flying upstairs to get the black credit card only used for emergencies.

Quentin went to say something, but Ms. Martin shook her head at him, and he closed his mouth abruptly.

Josie returned with the Stronghold credit card in hand and paid on the spot with a trembling hand.

As soon as Steve returned home, she'd get him to ring other mechanics to ensure they weren't being ripped off. If she'd just paid a cent over what they should have, then she'd sue the Morton family for everything they had.

...

End of the hundred and fifty-seventh chapter.