The ending of Spring brought a thick humidity in Ketterdam, and Meg's office had no ventilation. Sweat dripped down her forehead to her nose, but she didn't bother wiping it away. Her pursuit had not stopped, although she had tried several times to tell Sal to stop helping her. Sal continued to work alongside her. They both had cover work ready in case one saw Clem or Granny coming. Sal would frequently check to ensure preemptive time to tuck away their experimentations.

Meg was huddled over her work; replicating parem hadn't been as easy as she had thought. Recently she had devised a more efficient way to break down a substance using all the knowledge she had gained as an Alkemi. It. It helped her understand her last few particles, but attempting to recreate it was not yielding results. She was sure her first batch had been the best, but without testing it, she had no idea.

"You sure we shouldn't try to get someone to try it?" Sal communicated to Meg, who wiped the sweat away with the sleeve of her shirt before responding.

"Clem is right; we can't call in our indentures for this one. And there are few of those indentures who are Grisha anyway."

"Are you thinking about trying it on yourself?" Meg paused and thought.

"I've thought about it, but I'm not ready yet. What if it works, and then I can't recreate it?"

'What if it works and then being on parem helps you create more?"

There it was. Sal asked the question Meg had mulling over for weeks. Meg stared off, not looking at Sal. Finally, she pointed at herself, shook her head no, and tapped her forehead.

"I don't know."

Meg sighed. She hadn't spoken to anyone but Sal for several weeks. Some of the other Pigeons had done quick check-ins about their production, but Meg had almost all but ignored them. She wasn't interested in the rest of her work, which was becoming noticeable.

"I'm surprised Clem hasn't shown up to check on what we're doing." Meg communicated more to herself than Sal. She found that she used Hand so frequently with Sal now that she did it while thinking her thoughts. Meg watched Sal as she hesitated in her response.

"What?" She asked her.

"Word's going around. Granny's not looking at Clem anymore." Meg was startled. Clem's whole life was destined to take over the Widows. Meg had resented her for it and had never considered that Granny would change her mind. She never doubted Granny's ability for cruelty but had never seen it used against Clem.

"Who told you this? Dal?" Sal was suspicious of the words from Clem's Mice, even though that was their primary job. She had heard of them making up rumours for payment in the past. Granny had put out a false lead to test their loyalty. Two mice were caught for lying and changing the story, and even Clem couldn't stop their punishment. Meg had argued with Clem about it. She called it kind that Granny didn't torture them but rather used a bullet.

"No, Zelda did when I got our lunch the other day. Dal won't hear a word of it. But I don't think they're happy with Clem either."

Sal finished her statement but then realized her mistake. Sal and Dal had a particular allegiance to each other as siblings; Meg didn't want to come between them.

"Don't worry, Sal; you never said a word." Meg paused and considered what Sal had said. "Did Zelda tell you this? Or you overheard them?"

"She told me. A few people were around."

This worried Meg; people usually knew not to speak against Clem so openly. But, on the other hand, there may have been truth to it.

"Did she say who Granny is looking at?"

"The usual, her, Cora."

Not Ertha, the perfect enforcer, but too rigid for leadership. Nula would have been good to take on after Granny. Meg shook herself out of her thoughts and noticed Sal's look of concern on her face.

"Does this worry you?"

"Yes. Clem protects the Mice; why would Granny not look at her anymore?" Meg understood Sal was worried for Dal. Sal and Clem helped Dal retain their small amount of child-like nature. Many of the Mice, especially Dal, would become the rabid animal they were under another gang. Meg brought her hand to her chest, shook her head no and then touched a closed fist to her forehead.

"I don't know."

They both stood in silence. Meg wasn't used to seeing so little of Clem; she usually checked on her daily. She wasn't used to worrying for Clem, having been much younger and less confident about her future. She knew Clem had always looked out for her. She shrugged to Sal, breaking their contemplations, as she opened a package of wrapped crackers and chewed slowly. Meg reached behind her and found her stool with a free hand, and sat. Sal took the opportunity to sit on the floor next to her. Meg tossed her some crackers, and Sal nibbled on them.

Meg drew their attention to Sal's physical appearance. Her short bowl-cut hair had begun to grow out and flip up messily. It was dirty brown, and she had hazel and brown eyes. She suddenly remembered Sal and Dal's birthday was next month and that she would use some of her money to buy Sal a gift. Clem would buy Dal's. Sal rubbed her feet through thin, old shoes that Meg suspected she had once worn when her feet were tiny. Meg made a note to buy her a new pair.

"Meg, how old were you when you joined the Widows?" Meg's hand went to her upper arm, where her tattoo was. Sal had yet to receive her's. Meg knew she would soon but didn't want her experience to impact Sal's choice to join. She had to be honest, though.

"I was 7 or 8. Around then. But I didn't have a choice."

"What do you mean?"

"My sister and I had inherited debt. We were lucky to work it off and get protection from the Widows. Granny even took on the debt we owed to other people in the city."

"What would you do if you didn't have the debt and didn't have to join?" Meg noted Sal was not asking about her sister. So many struggled with loss; you didn't push unless someone else brought it up. At least most knew not to unless they wanted to see the consequences of asking. Meg thought about the question.

"Honestly, as we get better, I would keep doing what I'm doing. Just not under the control or goal of the Widows. Being able to choose what we make, sell it, and keep or see some of the money would make the difference in my work."

"Would you hire me?" Meg smiled but then realized her mistake. Sal was beginning to dream and hope for a different life. One Meg didn't have and, therefore, couldn't let Sal attach herself to.

"Yes, but I'd only pay in crackers." Meg tossed another; Sal caught it but didn't smile. Meg raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I think I'm going to join finally." Sal looked sombre and looked away from Meg. Meg felt at a loss; this is where Clem could shine, and Meg struggled. Her first response was to tell her no and move forward. However, she knew Sal needed more and tried to think what Clem would say.

"Why?" Wrong question, or was it? What is she hoping I'll say? Meg's face scrunched up in concern. She could see Sal pausing, which she did when she struggled to express herself through Hand.

"I don't want to go anywhere else and can't think of anywhere else."

"Yet. No one expects you to join yet; you have time to go somewhere else."

Sal gave her a look of confusion, and Meg understood she made another mistake. Sal and Dal weren't just born in Ketterdam like Meg but in the Barrel. There was nowhere else; Sal couldn't even imagine it.

Two kids, with a mother no older than Meg is now. She cared for them as long as she could while working at one of the brothels. Meg had no idea what happened to their mother. She first saw the two of them while walking with Clem, who drew her attention to Sal, and they spoke, asking a few general questions. Meg had no idea why Clem was bringing her over. It wasn't until they left that Meg saw her again a moment later and was confused. Clem had grinned and told her to check all her pockets. After she patted herself down, she realized she had been robbed.

"You knew?" Meg had asked curiously and worried about their precious, lost few Kruge. Clem replaced Meg's lost money by taking some out of her pocket and handing it to her.

"It's a con. Can you figure it out?" Clem asked with a wide grin as if she had gotten a gift. Meg had no mind for cons or tricks. She shook her head 'no'. Clem continued. "They ran it on me three weeks ago, and I've been watching it ever since. They're pretty good."

"They?" Meg asked, looking around and saw Clem wince in pain. It appeared that Sal, who Meg had just spoken to, was now behind Clem and was scratching her with broken glass and screaming. She couldn't understand a word Dal was saying but remembered being shocked a moment prior. She assumed she had been speaking to the same sweet, adorable girl, only now looking like a feral animal. Clem had slammed Dal to the ground and pinned them, knocking the glass out of their hand. Sal came running out, and the basics of the con became clear.

"Twins?" Meg asked Clem, who kept Dal pinned as they became more upset. Meg understood their outrage; they didn't want Clem to reveal their trick. Clem would let go of Dal three times, only to have them come at them again, threatening and swearing at them to leave them alone. Clem gave them jobs and paid them the following day. Initially, Clem had struggled to connect with either of them past the work she gave them. It wasn't until Meg found Sal found her place by hanging around and following her that then Dal calmed down and trusted Clem.

Since then, Sal had grown so much and had found her skills and curiosities. But she still wasn't curious about what was beyond Ketterdam. Meg couldn't blame her; she also reminded herself to stay focused.

"What does Dal think?" Meg asked, bringing herself back from her memories. Sal took the last bite of her crackers. She pointed at Meg and then brought her fist gently to her forehead.

"You know."

Meg nodded; she did know. Dal joined as soon as possible, and they didn't regret it. Clem taking a chance on the two of them when they were so young meant Dal and Sal owed Clem their life.

"Well, you seem sure, so I guess that's good." Meg couldn't hide their disappointment despite understanding.

"Do you think I should?"

"It's not up to me," Sal started, abruptly stopping and nodding. Meg sighed. "I wish you would wait a little longer." That was all Meg could communicate. She didn't know how else to explain it without treating Sal like the child she should be allowed to be.

Sal just nodded in understanding, not saying what she would do next.