"Vanya," Natalya whispered, distant at first, but coming closer. He stood shock still as she ran to him, Yekaterina on her heels.

He wasn't sure what he expected. They were hundreds of meters underground, locked away from the rest of the world, yet not in complete privacy. Tears were streaming down her face. Her arms had been open, as if she wanted to hug him, but she seemed to have second thoughts; she fell to a stop in front of him and just pleaded with her eyes like she was restraining herself. Katya stopped, too, and soon all three of them were just standing there, doing nothing but crying.

"Oh, Ivan," Katya sobbed, tears staining her rumpled romper.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, because it was all he had left to say to them. They had spent money to come here for him, they had missed spending time with him because he was with Alfred, they had nearly been arrested because of him, and yet they had supported him still at the station and with the computer, even when they didn't understand a thing. Ivan wondered how tight he had stretched their loyalty and their love. "I'm so sorry. I'm a horrible person—it's all true!" He didn't deserve to be in their presence, much less to receive hugs from them.

They hugged him anyway. Natalya pressed kisses to his cheeks as Yekaterina sobbed into his scarf—the very scarf she had knitted herself all those years ago. Ivan was extraordinarily careful with embracing them, still feeling like he was unworthy.

But he got what was coming to him. A few seconds later, Natalya reeled back and slapped the cheek she had just kissed, and then kissed it again. Ivan was so surprised he laughed, and then bit his tongue.

"Talk to us!" Katya begged, clinging to him. "I will not let my little brother call himself a horrible person before I've heard the end of it!"

"No more running away!" Natalya agreed, seizing his hand. "I want to know everything!"

And so Ivan obliged. He sat down with them on the rock-solid carpeting of the FBI office space and spilled all the tea, even explaining the hacker parts and the Alfred parts he had been nervous about admitting before. They were not startled. It didn't take long, for they knew (or had completed the puzzle themselves) about most of the story already.

"So you do love him," Natalya said solemnly, closing her eyes. She put one hand to her face. When she spoke again her voice was very quiet. "Do you still...love...us?"

"Of course," Ivan cried. "Of course, of course, of course!" He took a deep breath. "That has never stopped. That will never stop."

Twin tears traced over Natalya's cheeks. "I hid the computer for you. I wasn't sure when you would come back. I just remembered seeing it when you were in the bathroom that one time and—" Her voice broke. "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I just knew it was important to you. Did you—did you find it?"

Ivan nodded. He wasn't sure he should be thanking her, but he did so anyway. He didn't care what was illicit anymore.

They sniffled in silence for a little longer until they were interrupted. Alfred stepped around the corner, straightening up when he spoke. "Hey, um. They're ready now. Sorry if…? Um, I mean." He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to smile as everyone stared at him. "They're ready for us to come in."

"Yes," Ivan told him, standing up. Katya grabbed onto his arm.

"Wait. Ivan. Whatever they tell you to do in there…they can't make you stay here, right? They can't take you away again." She looked on the brink of desperation. "They told us you would have to listen to them, but—but—"

"Who cares about what they say?" Ivan took off his scarf and wrapped it around Yekaterina's shoulders. His neck was left exposed, but he found that he wasn't self-conscious about it. "I will listen to you."

And with that, they followed Alfred into what was about to be the second-most dramatic meeting of their lives.

Chief Arthur Kirkland was worse for wear, on the edge of sanity, frayed on all ends, but remarkably pulling through. "We have somewhat come to a conclusion. A compromise," he began to inform the newcomers. "And nobody's going to like it."

Everyone was gathered in a loose circle around a central conference table—and it really was everyone. Some sat in spare chairs, the Mafia brothers were sitting on the floor, Yao Wang (who had voiced that he "refused to sit with the rest of you heathens") leaned against the wall, and Felicks sat in Toris's lap. Alfred waved hello and swung up onto the table itself, criss-cross-applesauce. Ivan opted to stand. There were vague grumbles all around, except for Gilbert, who was squished between Francis and Antonio on a bench that had been dragged in. He stretched his arms out in a yawning fashion and rested them over the shoulders of his benchmates, who weren't fazed in the slightest. "Now, when you say 'nobody…'"

Chief Elizabeta Héderváry pointed a stringent finger at him from across the room and he immediately closed his mouth and adjusted his posture. "It is the only way."

"Scary!" voiced Feliciano Vargas excitedly, rubbing his hands together.

"But will it, like, benefit all of us?" Alfred asked, almost raising his hand. It didn't seem thinkable that a conglomeration of opposing factions who had been hunting each other for months could come to a one single agreement, but already here they were, sitting in this room together without dissolving into chaos (yet), so that had to count for something.

"Well, in a particularly aggravating sense, yes," answered Kirkland. "But only if everyone agrees."

"Let's hear it, then," Alfred declared, drumming his fingers against the tabletop in anticipation.

Matthew stepped forward. "Ahem. First of all, the things said in here don't leave this room, or we forfeit everything we've worked to. If even one person on the outside found out about this, we would all go to prison for the rest of our lives. Eh...myself included." A slight sheepishness. "Is this understood?"

Whoa. Alfred glanced around the meeting room, and everyone seemed to be paying more intense attention. Slowly (and after some scoffs and nervous laughter), people began to nod along to the terms. Alfred glanced at Ivan behind him, and they nodded together, then faced the front again.

"Good," remarked Arthur. "So, the conclusion is as follows: we do absolutely nothing."

He paused here for dramatic effect, and it worked. Everyone froze, on the edges of their seats, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to explain the impossibility that had just come out of his mouth.

"Is my English not working again? Did I understand you wrong?" Yekaterina asked softly.

"It is a similar compromise to what we discussed in the park, except all parties are giving up their jobs," Kirkland continued. "If the FBI ceases all scrutinous operations and the hackers quit hacking, and the rest of you conveniently forget about ever participating in the events of the last few weeks, we could almost avoid scandal entirely. But all of us must agree."

"Damn government secrets," mumbled Ludwig.

"I've decided that I like it," Toris put in. Alfred did a double-take, for he actually sounded cheery.

"But I still want my job!" Felicks complained. "And, like, what is stopping me from agreeing to this now but then totally continuing exactly what I do later?"

"The retribution of us revealing who you are and what you've done," promptly answered Elizabeta. "And if you try to retaliate and reveal us, we all spend the rest of our lives behind bars." She shifted her weight, tilting her head, pensive. "There's got to be something else you can do. Makeup tutorials, perhaps?"

"Cliché," he spat. "No one would watch me."

"Oh, I would," Toris assured.

The building above them hummed in consideration.

"It is almost exactly like in the park," said Ivan thoughtfully, back to addressing Chief Kirkland. "But you said it is 'complicated?' Have you changed your mind?"

Arthur nodded and cleared his throat. "Let's just say I've been thinking. It might not be as complicated as I had initially claimed. Most other divisions of the FBI don't know we exist just as we don't know about them, and if we just did nothing—silently ceased reporting, akin to what Toris and Alfred did when reporting themselves—we could perhaps escape unnoticed for at least long enough for me to conveniently lay everyone off and then flee the country."

"Holy guacamole," Alfred laughed out, sitting forward. "Wait, are you serious?" He looked at Héderváry for confirmation, incredulous.

"To the syllable," Kirkland responded. "Ever since I started getting these blasted gray hairs I've been questioning my place here, but my incompetence came with a price, I guess." For a moment he looked sad, and then he shrugged. "I did consider faking my death."

"Oh, but that is just too dramatic," crooned Francis Bonnefoy.

"You were tied up for weeks and you smelled like absolute rubbish, mind you. Bugger off."

Alfred half-turned to Ivan. "And here we were the ones joking around about running away!"

Ivan smiled bashfully. "I guess it be like that sometimes."

Elizabeta sighed and rolled her eyes. "As for me, I have not yet decided what I will do. I am toying with the idea of just reporting all the missing agents as dead and finally declaring the case closed."

Lovino snorted. "Oh, please do."

"But then what will we do?" Feliciano beseeched. "We cannot just go back to the Mafia and tell them the mission is failure, right?"

Antonio scratched his newly-shaved stubble. "Well...who said you had to go back at all?"

Both Italian brothers fell into a stupefied, curious silence, until Lovino began to shake his head. "I cannot believe I am here to witness it. The very first time you said something that was not dumb! I thought it would never happen!"

Eduard, hacker extraordinaire, previously silent and composed, burst into a frenzy of laughter. The room quieted as he awkwardly caught his breath, taking off his glasses to wipe away a stray tear. "I am sorry! It is just all this talk—we all truly are criminals!"

"Not me," scoffed Yao Wang. "I have done nothing wrong."

They all looked at him.

Ivan opened his mouth. "Um—"

"Shut! One time!" He crossed his arms grumpily. "For so much trouble, I think I deserve...how you say it in English money words...compensation."

Everyone winced. "We were kinda hoping you wouldn't ask that," Arthur mumbled.

Yao smirked. "Oh, no, that is right, stupid. I gone through hell. Let's give me this bread."

Kirkland put a hand to his temple. "All due respect, sir, but, see, being we're practically liquidated, we don't really have the funds to do that…"

The food truck owner put it bluntly. "I will tell."

Everyone immediately began patting their pockets.

Raivis leaned over to Eduard. "Don't we have all that coin and bribe money saved up?"

Eduard nodded slowly. "I guess...if we are agreeing to this plan...and if the FBI are giving up their assets, it would only be fair of us to do the same."

It was obvious he was hesitating. Alfred glanced back once more at Ivan, who was wincing in harmony. It would be hard. When they walked out of this room, they would be changed people, careerless and lost.

Carlos Machado seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He took a good long drag from his ever-present cigar and shook his head. When the smoke dissipated, he looked tiredly at Matt. "This is so damn shady, man. Are there cameras in here? If we get caught..."

But Matthew, of course, wouldn't lose his job. "It's what we have to do to help the most people," he answered without a beat. "You know this is the right thing, and we have to do the right thing."

"What will you do with all the evidence you've collected?" Alfred asked. "You have testimonies from them, right" —he pointed at Ivan and his sisters— "and recordings and tapes and stuff?"

"Well, working with the FBI, we are used to keeping things secret. We'll probably do what Chief Héderváry suggested," his brother replied. "Close the case and lock it all away."

Ludwig perked up. "The evidence and interview with Feliciano, too?" he inquired, glancing between Matthew and Elizabeta. "Then what about the witness whose testimony we used? The one that offered the description? Don't they know about all that happened?"

Kiku Honda cleared his throat. Alfred had almost forgotten his friend was even present in the room. "For this, I have an answer," he said. "Because actually, I was the witness."

Alfred nearly fell off the table. "What?" He scratched his brain to remember the events of weeks ago that he had barely paid attention to even when they had been happening. "What witness? You didn't tell me this!"

Kiku blushed and folded his hands. "I was on my way to work very early in the morning when I thought I saw Mr. Bonnefoy being, erm, abducted by the Mafia. It was a Tuesday, I think, and at first I did not think much of it until a few days later." His eyes flicked to Ivan for a moment. "The day I saw you sneak into the museum. Alfred, I called you that night, and when we were talking about your work and everything happening, I started to remember how strange it was. So right after, I called the police. They kept my name anonymous. I did not tell you even later because you started to act strange, as well, and Mr. Kirkland contacted me, and, erm, I did not know who to trust."

Alfred wanted to be mad or even hurt, but instead he could only follow suit of the others and laugh in disbelief. "Well, dude, I'm so glad this is all over now. That's just showbiz I guess."

"I'm sorry for being a doubtful friend," Kiku admitted quietly. "We can play games, maybe? Make it up?"

"Oh, we'd better," Alfred promised. He scolded himself internally for not walking into this meeting already expecting some new plot twist and/or secret to be divulged.

"Right." Arthur whipped out a pen and clicked it. "So, back to the matter at hand. I want to decide this now before I realize I've made an utter fool of myself and I change my mind. Does everyone agree to the terms?"

Alfred caught motion out of the corner of his eye as Ivan exchanged glances with Natalya and Yekaterina. None of them seemed tentative on the matter, however, as Ivan's answer came right away: "Yes. I swear I will never hack again."

"Wait, I just—" Eduard was shifting around nervously. "I support the compromise. But it will take a while to cut my connections with the...um...the underground. And I do not really knowing what...what to do...after. I will have to start over completely." He blinked, looking around. "All of us will, right?"

"It's only fair we all do," Kirkland responded sincerely.

"Not me," Yao Wang grumbled again to himself. This time no one paid him any heed.

"But it will be better than before with no more spying," Toris concluded. "The circle does not end until you sever it." He put his hand over Felicks's. "The world will be a better place."

"Oh, whatever," Felicks scoffed. "Fine."

"I consent to the terms," consented Ludwig. "Even if it means I lose my job."

"Me too," Feliciano hurried out.

"Fu—ah." Lovino crossed his arms. "Fine; I also consent."

Alfred waited as, slowly, everyone around the room said they agreed. Their faces became blank as their mouths closed, as if the gravity of the situation was pushing harder against them, one by one. When it was Alfred's turn to say the words, he tried to put as little thought into them as possible until he realized that doing that—blocking worries out of his mind—wouldn't help him face his new future. If he had the courage to meet paranoia in the eyes, then perhaps he had the courage to stand up to it, as well. "I agree."

"Jolly good." Chief Kirkland stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. The expression on his face looked anything but jolly good; he looked as if he had just finished thwarting a demonic possession. Alfred felt like he should be concerned. "I suppose we should whip out a contract or something to sign, if the looming threat of a life sentence or worse isn't enough."

"What…" All heads in the room turned to Natalya, who held quite a grim determination herself. She straightened her shoulders and faced them with a businesswoman's inquiry. "What if...what if later, none of us are betraying, but the world still finds out."

"Well, then, miss, is when we start praying," Arthur declared. He moved to shuffle paper out of his workbag.

Alfred, not too keen with that cynicism, swirled around to face her. He had a better idea. "Then we face them together. All of us. How about that? Think the likes of us could take on the world?"

"I think we could." Ivan smiled, reaching down to hold his younger sister's hand.

She blinked down to her feet, her cheeks taking on a cute pink hue. "Fine by me," was all she said.

After the meeting was adjourned and the contract signed and sealed away, the hackers and agents and everyone in-between congregated in the kitchen. Ivan stood with his sisters by the refrigerator; Alfred found himself snagged away by a certain newfound gray division employee.

"Hey, kid, it's been a while," Gilbert growled out, ruffling his hair. "Damn, so much has changed. Did you keep the place interesting without me? Sure looks like it." A playful taunt in his eyebrows. Alfred was much taken-aback.

"Oh, bet," he retorted. "Glad to see you survived your...torture or whatever. How does it feel, being a liberated dead man?"

That ever-present grin Alfred had always respected and tried to mimic himself. "Me, I feel awesome! Free as a bird! How are you holding up?"

Alfred grinned back, then let it die. He remembered how Ivan had told him not to give a basic answer. "Yeah, uh, life sucks, but we're getting there."

Gilbert cocked his head, his reddish eyes strangely analytic. Then he put a hand on Alfred's shoulder and turned off to look at Kirkland, who was conversing with Héderváry on the other side of the room. "You ruined a perfectly good kid!" he hollered somewhat jokingly. "Look what you did! He's got anxiety!"

Alfred laughed good-naturedly as Arthur rolled his eyes in one of his We'll talk later looks. "We've all gone a little crazy."

"Legit." Gilbert threw a nod at his brother Ludwig, who was having his coffee dressed by Feliciano near the Keurig. "I still do not understand what happened here. True love saved everyone or something?"

Alfred watched as Ludwig accepted the coffee, his eyes meeting Feliciano's over the rim of the mug. He realized it was the first time he was seeing Ludwig look happy, even mildly so. He supposed Ludwig was free now, as well. "Well...kind of the opposite, actually," Alfred surmised. "True love pretty much ruined everything. But it's chill now." He allowed himself to chuckle again and couldn't help but think of Ivan. He hadn't talked to Ivan at the meeting much, had he? Where was Ivan—still by the fridge. Alfred felt the urge to go over and stand by him soon.

"Hell yeah 'it's chill.' We have no jobs now!" Gilbert said this with a flash of amusement in his eyes, as if he wasn't at all concerned. "Which means no more Friday night bowling, which means I am not sad."

Alfred tried to think all the way back to that fateful night. "Eh, didn't you get your arm stuck in the—"

"Ja, as a matter of fact, I did." Gilbert crossed his arms protectively, like the experience was the one thing he used to keep his grip on sanity during the dark times.

"Right."

"And I am not ashamed," he scoffed, puffing his chest out. "I'm proud. It has made me strong. I can survive anything, you know."

"Right." Alfred wasn't sure if he was allowed to laugh again.

Gilbert gave him a chummy punch on the shoulder. "See you around, kid. Don't get too wild."

Alfred saluted as he strutted off to harass someone else. Then he turned around to search for Ivan, but found someone else blocking his path.

"Agent Alfred F. Jones." Arthur Kirkland put his hands on his hips, assessing Alfred with a sigh—a contented sigh for once. "I must say. It is an honor to fire you."

Alfred let out a breath of air as well. In mock surprise, he said, "Chief. I have no words."

"My only regret is that it had to happen this way," Arthur continued, cringing a little. Was he actually getting emotional? Wait, Alfred wasn't prepared for this.

He tried to stand a little straighter. "Wow, I mean, I'm super sorry too. You're like, um, a dad to me." He flinched. "Whoa, I did not mean to say that. I mean, no, I mean I did... Like, the nice intention, but maybe not that exact phrasing. Awkward. Um. Yeah. I'm super sorry."

Kirkland nodded, closing his eyes for a somber two seconds. "I meant I wish I would have fired you the moment you walked in on your first day instead of having to deal with this whole mess of right now, but here we are."

Alfred began to nod along and then halted. "Hey! That's not...are you blaming me?"

"I am not."

"You totally are."

"I promise you that I am not." The Chief gave the tiniest of smirks. "Only I will deign to assume the fault for not firing you when I should have."

Alfred spread out his hands. "Oh, come on! What about Toris?"

They both zeroed-in on Toris, who was sitting over in the cushioned chairs, conversing with Eduard and Raivis. He made eye contact with them. They squinted disapprovingly. He gave them a little wave and turned back to his friends.

"Toris kind of fired himself, didn't he?" Arthur supposed, scratching at his collar.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So are you really gonna 'flee the country?' That's pretty BA."

"I think…" And then he actually looked a bit wary, the frazzledness from the beginning of the meeting settling back over him, but he gulped through it. "Contemplating all this general corruption has made me realize that you've taught me things, too. I think I want to enjoy a peaceful life free from secrets and rules for a while. Although, I do have a multitude of connections in the MI5…" He cleared his throat. "You didn't hear that. But yes. I think escape would be my best option."

Alfred blinked in wonder. "You know, this does feel like I'm losing a parent."

Kirkland laughed. "Please. Do take care of yourself when I'm gone, okay? Or at least get Braginsky to do it for you. He seems…" —a steady inhale— "capable."

Alfred smiled. "That's for sure." He stared at his boss, at one of the strongest men he knew, who just a week ago had been yelling at him in a police station, and even further back than that had given him the whole assignment of watching Ivan in the first place. He had first thought of Arthur as an overbearing sort of misanthrope, but was struggling with accepting the fact that he was going to miss him as a firm force in his life. "Will we ever see each other again?" he blurted out.

"If the fates align," Kirkland responded, hesitantly. He looked like he was in the middle of having revelations as well. "And I did mean what I said about it being an honor. You're a very clever young man, Alfred. Don't waste what you have."

"I won't," he promised, saluting. "Do you want me to leave my badge and gun on your desk?"

Arthur groaned. "You don't have a gun, Jones, and let's all thank God for that. But yes, go be useful and turn in all your things. I'm going to put the kettle on and make goodbye scones."

"Weird flex but okay," Alfred noted. "Adios!"

The moment the Chief walked away, Alfred felt a presence behind him. He jumped when Ivan cheerfully said, "Did I smell a meme?"

Alfred promptly swiveled. "Hey! I was just looking to talk to you! What's up?"

Ivan still wasn't wearing his scarf, which Alfred had noticed earlier but hadn't commented about. He didn't look insecure about it, however. His eyes were shining with a merry brightness and he held himself with confidence. Alfred was still jealous of his height. "I want to talk to you, too. How do you feel about losing your job?"

Alfred shrugged. "The shock hasn't set in yet? I don't know. I'm not worried, which is good. Really good. How do you feel?"

"I am not sad," Ivan declared with a cute little smile. "And I think I am fired from my other job, too, for never showing up. But it is okay. I can find somewhere else to garden."

It seemed so long ago that Ivan had been wearing overalls and yellow gloves. The thought reminded Alfred of something. "Your sunflower. In your apartment."

"Oh, I snuck in and watered it," said Ivan, blushing. "I think it will be fine."

"...Ah." Alfred looked at him, just looked at him, wondering how one person could turn out to be so many things. "I watered it too."

"Thank you," Ivan breathed. "W-Would you like to have it? Because...well, my sisters and I were talking and...I need to tell you something."

Somehow, Alfred already knew what was coming. A solemn weight settled in him, but he was ready to accept it. He was just reaching out to take Ivan's hand when yet another interruption besieged them.

"Well, friends?" Eduard stepped forward, putting his hands together. "The circle is officially disbanded."

A weak, halfhearted cheer went up over the circle's past members, who had gathered around him. "It is my pleasure to working with you," Eduard continued. "All of you." He gave Ivan a respectful nod.

"I guess this is goodbye to them," Ivan said, partially to himself, partially to Alfred. A cloud of guilt enveloped him. When all was said and done, he hadn't disliked the group of illegals. Maybe if he hadn't been so distressed during his time with them, they could have become closer friends. And there was the part of living on the fringes of society that had even been thrilling.

"Yeah, I get it," Alfred said easily. Ivan looked back at him. "Maybe we should meet up tomorrow. Is that good?" He gave him a friendly shoulder-nudge.

"Yes. Definitely." Ivan wanted to stop everything and kiss him right there, but he could wait. It would be better when they were alone. "Would you like if—well, would it be stupid if we met in—"

"In the park?" Alfred laughed.

"—in the park." Ivan covered his smile.

"No. I'd love to meet in the park," Alfred teased. "And text me, okay?"

"Yes. I will. I really like having my phone back," he said.

"Good," Alfred gave him one last smile, then pointed over to Kiku Honda. "Someone's about to get their butt kicked in video games."

With that, he left, and Ivan felt better about approaching the circle. Even after all this time he still felt like he owed them. His debt was paid, but they had given him a place to stay and rescued him from prison, as well as had listened to and supported him, even if their intentions had been different.

Ivan met Eduard by the comfy chairs. "Thank you for working with me too," he said. "And for the good computer. Do I get to keep the computer? I like the computer."

"It is all yours," Eduard obliged. "Use it for good. I think I am going to use mine to become a software engineer or something boring. Who knows. I could always start a blog."

"If you do, you should follow me," Ivan recommended. "For quality content."

Eduard laughed nervously as Ivan winked. "I sure will."

Ivan searched next for Felicks and Toris, who had sat down at one of the FBI computers and were already using it to design Felicks's YouTube channel.

"But I am not calling my subscribers 'sisters,'" Felicks spat. "It's so, like, overkill."

"Well, anything to be cute and get rich," Toris put in.

"I am already cute and rich, sister."

Ivan put his hands together politely. "Um, I want to say goodbye…?"

Felicks took the space of an eyeroll to look up. "Oh. Bye, I guess."

Toris, giving Felicks a shoulder squeeze, had the spirit to stand. "It was nice to meeting you, Ivan. You were a very...admirable hacker. I hope our paths cross again."

"Thank you. You and Felicks take care of each other," he said.

"Oh, we totally will!" Felicks assured from the chair.

"You and Alfred also," Toris responded. "He is a very sociable person, and you have made him more conscious and kind to others. It is easy to see. Be good."

Waking up that morning, Ivan would've never guessed that a strange ex-agent, ex-double agent would appear in his life to make him feel so empowered. "Thank you," he repeated. His cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much.

The final person Ivan had to say goodbye to was found sitting all alone on the floor under the kitchen sink, just watching the rest of the congregation.

"I hope you go very far in life when you grow big," he told Raivis, bending down and shaking the teenager's hand sincerely. He remembered how, in the elevator after breaking into this very building, Raivis had told him he had met his friends through writing online. "One day you will write something very important, I know."

"That is very nice of you," Raivis told him, redfaced. He sat up straighter, adjusting his ball cap. "It was good to work with you."

After a second passed between them, Raivis bashfully looked down. "I'm—I'm writing something right now, actually, but I do not think anything will happen to it. The people with all the power are difficult to appeal to."

Ivan wasn't sure if he believed that was true. "No matter how small, a big difference can be made."

Raivis nodded. "Thank you. I hope you, um, garden some very important plants."

Ivan beamed. "Always."

His sisters came to him after that. Ivan felt filled with warmth, wrapping an arm around each of them. No more tears.

"Ready to go?" Katya asked softly, running a hand down the scarf he had placed over her shoulders an hour earlier.

"Yes," he said as Natalya slipped her fingers through his. "I am."

witness - katy perry

Sometimes the only way is little-by-little. Sorry this one took so long. The good news: the busy season of my life is kind of over for now? I'll have a lot more time to do things. I was legit going insane y'all. The plan: try to spit out this last upcoming chapter within the next week, and potentially finish the epilogue before the end of December. Can I do it? We'll see.

To all my US followers, happy late Thanksgiving!