I'd always had trouble getting up in the morning for school, but things just happened to be 13 times worse when you took into account the fact that my long-time best friend was part of a legion of kidnappers/guardians that I wanted no part in, my father was apparently alive and a deadly criminal—after me—and on top of that, it was five am.

But somehow, I managed to drag myself out of bed, into a short, hot shower, and dress myself haphazardly before trudging out the door. It was cold; New York had gotten snow in the two weeks I'd been gone. I lived close enough to not have to ride a bus to school, but I sometimes wished that was different. Today, however, the frigid temperature helped to clear my mind.

Soon, I found myself in my first class, Science, where the only person I knew in it was Magnus. I accredited my silence to exhaustion (which he accredited to the training I'd done the week before and "didn't know about,") and he didn't bother me. I took the pile of makeup work I'd missed with a growl and moved on.

Before long, I was plopped down in my seat at lunch with at least 40 different assignments and worksheets. I hadn't bothered to get anything to eat, as I had planned to spend the period getting caught up as much as I could. Simon soon sat to my left, Izzy, Magnus, and Maia (and her new boyfriend Jordan. How much had I actually missed?) filling in beside him. The seat to my right was empty, for now.

But then Jace was sitting next to me and plopping down a tray. He took one look at me, submerged in papers, and handed me a bag of pretzels and a banana from his own lunch. I stared him down, to which Jace shrugged and replied "Brain food."

"So, Clare," Simon babbled, oblivious to the fact that I hadn't planned to spend this lunch talking. No one corrected him. "How was your trip? And I don't remember you mentioning Jace was coming. I wouldn't have asked so many questions if I'd known."

"It was f-," I started, then cut myself off. "What do you mean Jace was coming?"

"Well, he missed school last two weeks, like you," Simon responded, confused.

My mind blanked. Jace hadn't ever done that before. Had he? No, he'd always still been coming to school. I cut a glance to Jace, who was staring at the plate of food he hadn't touched. "Right," I said to Simon, but still was looking at Jace. "It was a camp-like thing, I guess I didn't see him much."

0.o.O.o.0

I had stomped away from the cafeteria as soon as it was time to leave. I knew it was just about time to stop having fits every time something unexpected happened, but as it turned out, my life was to be unexpected mess. So how fitting that it might also be one great fit as well. I stopped in front of my next class, government studies, but decided I couldn't handle another pile of papers, not now, so I twisted around and instead headed off toward the exit of the building.

I sensed Jace and Magnus on my heels before either of them spoke, and both of them followed me out the door toward the parking lot. Only when we were deep into the woods on the other side did I turn to face them.

"I want you to tell me the truth," I clenched my hands at my sides and stared at the ground at their feet.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Jace send Magnus a nervous glance before replying, "We have been telling you the-,"

"No, you haven't," I cut him off with a startlingly calm-sounding voice that was not really calm at all. Finally, I looked upwards, catching worried glances and fidgeting. "You've told me the bare minimum. Told me I didn't want to know. Well now I do."

Silence. Jace was the one who—surprisingly—looked wary and nervous, but it was Magnus whose gaze hardened, lips pressed together, and stance straightened. I bared my teeth at his blatant show of resistance and secrecy.

"Tell me or I go to Simon and he'll believe me."

Magnus stepped forward, hand outstretched, and I tackled him to the ground. I stood quickly, keeping my foot planted on his throat and my eyes on Jace, whose eyes were wide and his position had instantly switched to a defensive one.

"I knew you people were never on my side," I ground out through my teeth. I lifted my foot, freeing Magnus, who only rubbed at it.

I started to stomp away, back toward the school, but Jace called out, "Clary!"

I whirled, reluctantly. Jace looked both ways, even as he dragged Magnus up off the ground. He was checking for anyone listening, perhaps my father's "eyes" as Magnus had once called them.

"Fine," he finally conceded. "But not here."

. . .

It was probably not a smart idea to follow Magnus and Jace deep into the downtown area unwittingly, but at least I had my minimal training as a backup. I had managed to outsmart Magnus, so I figured he either hadn't expected that much of me or was working a less athletic position at C-VPA. But I knew that for all my life and rage, I'd never be able to fight Jace and come out victorious—or even alive.

Soon we were sitting around a lousy fireplace in a grungy apartment on Jones St.

"What is this place?" I asked, crinkling my nose.

"Blondie's home for the past eleven years," Magnus supplied, his voice scratchy from me stepping on his throat. I suppose I was a little bit sorry. Maybe a little.

My eyes flicked to Jace, who glared at Magnus as if he hadn't wanted him to say that.

I ignored Jace and spoke solely to Magnus—which was harsher than I may have intended it to be. "So he was a Child of Violence as well?" I crooned.

Magnus shook his head and opened his mouth to answer, but Jace cut him off, slouched on a raggedy armchair and staring unfocusedly into the poor fire. "I was," he mumbled, not really paying attention to the conversation going on around him, but enough to participate in it. "Until they both died."

Magnus sighed and crouched on a sofa that groaned under even his fragile weight. I remained standing. "Jace's parents were…a mistake."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"We believed them to be high-functioning, very dangerous criminals. But they were on our side, and we didn't figure it out in time. They were killed by-," Magnus stopped, eyeing Jace.

I didn't need him to continue. Valentine. They were killed by Valentine. My father.

"I'm sorry," I said to Jace, and I meant it. He turned, meeting my eye for the first time since before the accident when neither of us were filled with anger.

"I know," was his only answer.

The three of us were silent for a moment, until I finally, carefully, lowered myself onto another-slightly in better condition than the other—armchair.

"Okay," I breathed. "Start from the beginning."

I know this was short but I wanted to get it out. Hope you like it! Please review, it makes me so so so so sooooooo happy ;D. Love ya!