The white-hot ball of anger inside of Rose that was screaming for action and justice roared with approval as Rose ran out of the classroom and down the hall.

Rose knew that if she had stood there any longer, listening to Lila's pleas for forgiveness, she would have lost her grip and hurt Lila. Every murder Rose had ever committed had been impersonal, but she currently felt like she could kill Lila and mean it.

So, Rose ran. She originally had no plan; She simply needed to get away from Lila and her awful confessions and cutting accusations. She'd leave the Commission, she'd take her Briefcase and go far away— But no, the Commission would track her down. Besides, her real goal was to find Five.

She needed someone who could help her with this, someone who wasn't Lila.

Gloria, the elderly and kind tube operator, was taken aback at Rose's request, but had no objections once Rose told her about a certain rumor she'd heard.

Wordlessly, Gloria dug up a piece of paper for Rose from one of her desk drawers— A copy of Five's current assignment: Terminate John F. Kennedy.

"Great, thanks," Rose said distractedly before tearing out of the room. She was shocked that Lila wasn't chasing after her and begging her to stop, but certainly wasn't sorry that she wasn't.

Rose's next stop was the Briefcase room. (When she'd arrived at the Commission earlier, she'd checked it in for maintenance, but didn't expect to even have to persuade the room's monitor to get it back.)

Lila had predicted this move, however, and was there to intercept her. She leaned casually against the wall with her hands behind her back. She had an excellent poker face, but her voice cracked every so slightly when she said, "I'm supposed to stop you from doing this."

"But you don't want to," Rose replied calmly. It was taking every ounce of her willpower not to lunge at Lila or else Rumor her. Rose knew that if she attempted to rumor Lila, Lila could simply channel the feedback and rumor her right back, which would ruin everything.

The monitor, a toothpick of a guy named Lester, asked Lila nervously, "Um— Should I call security?"

"It's fine." Lila moved her arm from behind her back, revealing a handgun in her left hand.

Rose started to get nervous. Usually, Lila was more hands-on when it came to fighting. If she'd brought her Commission-issued gun with her, then she meant business.

Rose did not have her gun on her. To Lester, she said, "You should probably get out of here."

Lester didn't argue with her. Once he'd scurried off, Rose let acid coat her words as she told Lila: "I know this may come as a shock to you, but it's really normal to care about people who you consider to be a sister or brother. It's normal to want to know that they're safe and happy. That's what I'm doing here. So please, let me pass."

Lila looked Rose square in the eye, but her gaze revealed nothing. After staring at Rose for a good 30 seconds, she spoke.

"Let me come with you."

Now it was Rose's turn to stare at Lila. "What, you want to be helpful all of the sudden?"

"You're my sister."

"But at the end of the day, you're also the Handler's daughter," Rose pointed out. "And that seems to trump everything, in your book."

Lila started to say something, but then a man entered the little room, a Briefcase in his left hand. His navy-blue suit was splattered in blood, yet his face was perfectly stoic. Evidently, for him, the blood was just a part of the job.

Rose knew that expression; the cool, uncaring face that concealed so much, the green eyes that could never stopped shifting around. "Five."

He stopped short, and for the first time, looked at her, really looked at her. His mouth dropped open, but it took several moments for him to get the word out. "Three."

"Hi…" Three said awkwardly. Suddenly, she felt 11 years old again; One of the seven unnamed variables in an old man's twisted experiment. "So, you're Commission, now, huh?"

"I was right," Five said. His voice was so quiet that it was barely audible. "I thought you'd be here. The Handler took you, back in 2001. When she came to recruit me, I recognized her. That's why I took her up on the job. Well, that's partially why… Given the circumstances, I'd have been a fool, not to—"

"Um, hate to cut this sweet moment short," Lila interrupted, peering out the door of the Briefcase Room, "But you've got company."

You've got company, not we, Three noted. She peeked around the corner, herself, as did Five.

The Handler was on the opposite side of the hall, slowly but surely approaching, wearing a sleeveless black dress with a big red bow tied snugly around her waist. A matching ribbon tied her hair back. She was perfectly put-together, with a perfectly lethal gun in her hand to boot.

"That's not good," Three and Five said simultaneously.

"You two've got to get out of here," Lila said grimly. "I'll take care of this."

"I don't know," Three said dubiously. "Mom looks unhinged." Five looked at her incredulously, and she quickly corrected herself. "The Handler, I mean."

"You don't know what unhinged looks like, sis," Lila replied, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt. "And I don't suggest you stick around to find out. Take a Briefcase and go. Please."

"No Briefcase," Five argued. "They can track that."

The Handler was now close enough for Three to clearly see the golden spider pinned to the Handler's chest. Three started to sweat. "What're you gonna do? Time-travel us both out? Because from what I've heard, you—"

"Descended blindly into the depths of the freezing water and never acorned?" Five finished for her ruefully.

Three squinted at him. "What?"

"Ah, never mind. Look, I've been working on it, and I'm pretty sure I've got the equations figured out... God knows I've had the time to do so... Are you in?"

"Well, the alternative isn't looking too hot. Let's do it." Three hoped she hadn't just signed her own death warrant.

"Good." Five let his Briefcase clatter onto the ground and took Three's hand. He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration.

Three felt the air ripple around them, a strange sensation that stirred up her stomach and made her skin feel like it was being peeled back.

"Good luck," Lila said simply.

Three grasped for something, anything, to say. "Lila— thank you," she managed to squeeze wished she could have been more articulate. Wished she could understand why Lila was doing this for them.

Bright blue light, pure energy, space and time, wrapped around Three and Five, swept through them. The Briefcase room, Lila, and the Handler slipped out of sight.