(Content/trigger warnings for this chapter: anxiety, depression-like thing, self-hatred, children in peril)

-Ranya-

Dealing with Isabelle was difficult at times. She often wouldn't calm no matter what you said or did. I once overheard my dad saying he felt powerless against her anxiety.

But my frustration was soon drowned out by my weight and guilt. It seemed Pitch would enact his threat whether or not I was near my family. Zachary's kidnapping was my fault.

When I'd first woken up, I'd asked the Guardians, "Is the Mini Fairy back yet?"

North had shaken his head. "It must be taking a while to find Zachary."

All I wanted to do was worry about my brother. I stood there for a second, waves of speculations washing over me—if he'd be beaten, if Pitch still had the ability to turn him into a Fearling, if the Watcher would mess with his mind. But I couldn't afford to do that. I had to focus on making another plan to kill Pitch to make sure no one else got kidnapped, and that my sister didn't get killed.

But still, a feeling had struck like someone had shoved me off a cliff in below-freezing weather, and I had hit the bottom.

Self-hatred burned fierce in my chest even now as I planned. A weight anchored onto my whole body. If I hadn't insulted Pitch…

What if Zachary was killed? Would I shut down forever, unable to forgive myself? Would my guilt force me to come clean and tell my family, and then they'd hate me, too? I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.

I continued to plan, typing blankly into my phone back at the dining table. And I ran through what had happened today with a darker tinge. The people at lunch had seemingly strung me along before revealing they still thought there was something wrong with me. After all the evidence Isabelle and I had given them. After it had seemed like we were beginning to finally convince my lunch period. It was almost like they had planned it the whole time.

And now that I was well-rested, I realized things that exhausted me hadn't. Some of their expressions hadn't matched what they said or hadn't looked genuine. I hadn't been presenting to that period for very long yet since the semester had only recently begun, but I knew what faces usually looked like when people were angry or in disbelief.

I still had to make a plan to defeat Pitch and the Watcher, though. And somehow find a way to avoid the white mist. So I typed plan ideas into my phone. I texted my dad, and he only said I should stick to being in a group from now on to avoid the white mist. The only times it had come were when I was almost alone. It targeted me and didn't seem interested in being discovered by many other people.

He soon served a supper of bland boxed macaroni and cheese. My family sat at the table to eat while the Guardians watched behind us. Something seemed to hum in the air—like as if I could sense that the second someone mentioned Zachary, the room would snap and people would cry.

Isabelle actually got her own food for once, not pretending to be unable to reach the pan and make someone do it for her. The situation was even serious for her.

"We need to discuss the sleeping situation for tonight," North said, glancing at his fellow Guardians. "We could make everyone sleep in living room, but that would make it easier for the Watcher to take multiple people at once, with everyone being so close. I say we go back to sleeping separately upstairs—Sandy will join Jack in watching Isabelle. Any objections?"

"If the Watcher comes back, we'll need multiple people working together if we're gonna stop him," Bunny said opposite me, crossing his arms. "One wasn't enough. We need to stay down here."

"He's too quick," Tooth said from behind my chair. "We don't have a chance either way unless he holds still."

"Then we'll have a hand on our charge the whole night. If the Watcher teleports them away, maybe we'll follow and be able to return them."

"Good idea, Bunny," North said with a nod. "It's settled. We'll stay in separate rooms, and have a hand on our charges."

"I still think we should all stay down here."

"It's too dangerous," said Tooth.

Golden symbols flashed above Sandy's head.

"Sandy's right," said Jack. "If the Watcher comes to kill people, with his speed, it would be harder to protect all the Kirkwoods at once. They need to be separated."

"Fine," Bunny said, but he didn't seem happy about it.

After supper, Isabelle went back to sitting at our mom's old laptop near the edge of the kitchen—still searching for answers she wouldn't find.

I hummed the lullaby I used to sing to her while I went back to staring dimly at and tapping my phone.

"What's that song?" Jack stepped closer to me. I pulled my phone into my chest. Something consumed all my thick, coarse guilt like someone had torched it with a flamethrower. My chest became hot, and I bared my teeth. What right did Jack have to question what I was doing? It was a personal thing!

"Why don't you shut up?" I said.

Jack held up his arms in mock surrender—mock. He was mocking me. "It was just a question."

My chest burned fiercer, and I rose to my feet. "Yeah? Bet it was."

"All right, all right, I'll back off." Jack slowly stepped away.

"You better." And then as quick as it had appeared, the anger vanished. Everyone stared. My mom looked like she wanted to scold me. The weight returned—heavier this time. Slowly, I slumped back into my chair. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I don't know what came over me."

He took another step backward. "Maybe it was like the soothing, but a different emotion. I know you wouldn't usually act like that."

"Maybe."

It was difficult getting back into my planning after the incident. My thoughts kept getting stuck on my guilt and weight and what had just happened. I had a sense there was something about the soothing that I should know, but it was in the back of my brain and I couldn't pry it out no matter how hard I tried.

So I went back to my documents of plans. Maybe in order to recruit people this time, I had to keep it secret from everyone I'd ostracized—eliminate their influence. You'd think it'd be a lot of people over the years, but mainly it was the same ones over and over. So I wrote down a list of all I could remember and came up with about forty-five. Some didn't even go to the district anymore.

Then I composed a list of everyone else. I remembered quite a few names—hundreds. It was promising.

Blinking, I looked up from my phone to rest my eyes from the screen and saw Tooth whispering to Jack. Their eyes darted around the living room, but never in my direction. Tooth didn't seem suspicious of me anymore. The more I thought about it, the more the pit in my stomach opened wider. There was some good in what I had done, however—I had shown her that what she was doing with Isabelle was wrong. I had to do the same for my classmates.

I'd gotten Tooth to listen by appealing to something she cared about. And what would my classmates care about besides helping and avenging their paralyzed loved ones, a mantra I'd be sure to repeat? Food.

I tapped out my list of names in school email format in the "to" line, then composed a quick message repeating what anyone who joined would be helping me do and who they'd avenge. I offered cookies to anyone who came to a meeting. Then I sent the email.

Hopefully it would have good reception.

I stood. "North, want to make some cookies?"

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