AN: Hi again! Added translations to the Spanish dialogue! Also, just a reminder to check out Chapter 2 if you haven't read the updated version! Enjoy!

(tw: mentions of domestic violence)

Chapter 3

"So this is… Iron Man?" Elena asked, her tone cautious as Maria flipped through her self-made "Marvel" sketchbook. Page after page, it was filled with detailed drawings and notes—an encyclopedia of future heroes and villains. If they hadn't had that talk a few days ago, Elena would have written it off as an elaborate fantasy, maybe even some kind of fanfiction. But now…

Maria nodded eagerly. "Yep! That's him!"

Elena glanced at the TV, where the news was currently covering a gala. On-screen, Tony Stark was stumbling around drunk, laughing loudly, and generally making a fool of himself. She raised an eyebrow, pointing at the screen. "And you're telling me that guy… is going to be a superhero?"

Maria grimaced, her enthusiasm dimming just a touch. "Yeah, well… he gets a lot better! After, y'know, being kidnapped by terrorists and held against his will."

Elena blinked, her head snapping toward Maria. "I'm sorry, what?"

Maria looked up from her sketchbook, her expression far too cheerful for the words that had just come out of her mouth. "Mhmm! He builds the Mark 1 suit while captured then busts out like bam, bam!" She punched the air, giggling at her own enthusiasm.

Elena turned back to the screen, watching Tony slur something unintelligible into a microphone. That man is going to get kidnapped and become a hero? She frowned, trying to reconcile the image of the drunken billionaire on TV with the future Maria seemed so certain of. And the idea of an actual kidnapping happening to him… Should she do something? Warn him? But how?

Her train of thought was derailed when the camera caught Tony slapping a woman's backside as she walked by.

Elena's frown deepened, her disgust evident. "Well," she muttered dryly, "maybe he could use some character development."

Maria snorted, barely suppressing a laugh. "He'll get a lot better, trust me. And when he does—" she pointed dramatically to a neatly drawn line at the bottom of the "Iron Man" page in her sketchbook—"I'm going to have him sign right here!"

Elena raised an eyebrow, torn between amusement and disbelief. "You're already planning autographs?"
Maria nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! Why not? I think it'd be neat. I mean, like… it's not every day you wake up in the world of your favorite heroes!"

Elena chewed on that internally, her gaze drifting to Maria's sketchbook. It's not every day you wake up in the world of your favorite heroes…

She'd borrowed the Past Lives book from Matilda, hoping it would help her make sense of all this. The book described children with past-life memories as often being distant or overwhelmed, struggling to reconcile their current lives with what they remembered. But Maria… Maria was different.

Her daughter wasn't overwhelmed or hesitant—she was focused. Determined. While the book talked about children feeling adrift, Maria had latched onto her memories as if they were a guide, a roadmap leading her to her goal of becoming Spider-Woman.

It left Elena torn. On one hand, she admired Maria's drive and how she had turned what could have been a burden into a purpose. On the other, it terrified her. The book hadn't prepared her for a child who wanted to become a superhero.

And on top of that, Elena was still struggling to believe any of this was real. Well… the superhero stuff, at least. She believed Maria about her past life—that much, she'd come to accept. But the rest? The idea of a world filled with larger-than-life heroes and villains? It was enough to make her head ache.

"And this is The Hulk!" Maria's cheerful voice broke through her thoughts, and Elena mentally thanked her daughter for distracting her from the conflicting train of thou—

What the hell is that thing?

Elena's eyes widened as she stared at the page Maria had flipped to, her sketch of a massive, green, muscle-bound figure with a look of pure rage on its face.

"That's not a hero," Elena said, pointing at the drawing. "That's a monster."

Maria giggled, shaking her head. "No, no, he's a hero! Well, sometimes. He kinda smashes first and thinks later."

Elena raised a skeptical eyebrow, still staring at the sketch. Smashing things? This is supposed to be a hero?

"See, um… there's this scientist called Dr. Bruce Banner," Maria began, her hands gesturing animatedly, "and he kinda gets a super dose of gamma radiation. And now—or, well, later when it actually happens—every time he gets super mad, the Hulk pops out."

Maria grinned and let out a playful roar, raising her arms like she was imitating the giant green monster. "He looks really angry, but he's like a big softie!"

Elena's eyebrows shot up as she glanced between Maria and the sketch. "A softie? That… thing?" she asked, her voice dripping with disbelief.

"Totally!" Maria nodded enthusiastically. "Well, okay, sometimes he destroys, like… a lot of stuff. But his heart's in the right place!"
"As long as the military, especially General Ross…" Maria frowned, her playful energy dimming for a moment. "...leaves him alone, at least."

Elena's eyes lit up with recognition, her thoughts flashing back to their earlier conversations. "So that's how you knew Ross," she said softly, piecing it together.

"Yeah," Maria replied with a shrug. "I never liked him." She didn't dwell on it, quickly turning the page. "And you know Captain America!"

Elena tilted her head, her brows furrowing. "Captain America? The old WWII hero? Isn't he dead, sweetie?"

Maria giggled, her enthusiasm returning in full force. "No, he's just a capsicle!"

Elena blinked, giving her daughter a skeptical look. "A… capsicle?" she repeated, questioning.

"Yes!" Maria exclaimed, laughing. "He's stuck in the ice somewhere in the Arctic. SHIELD finds him eventually! Then he leads the Avengers!"

She leaped from her chair, miming throwing an invisible shield before snapping into a heroic salute. Elena couldn't help but laugh softly, shaking her head at her daughter's antics. A capsicle… she thought, amused despite herself.

"Oh, oh! And this is Thor!" Maria exclaimed, eagerly flipping to a page that displayed a drawing of a muscular man wielding a hammer, lightning crackling around him.

Elena stared at the sketch, her disbelief mounting. She can't possibly mean the actual Norse god… right? Maybe it's a hero inspired by the myth?

"Maria," Elena began cautiously, her brows knitting together. "Are you sure? Gods aren't rea—"

Maria cut her off before she could finish. "Oh, yeah! All the gods are real! Norse, Greek, Egyptian…" She trailed off for a moment, her finger tapping her chin in thought. "But the Norse ones are like, the most active. There's Odin, Asgard… Loki…"

Elena noticed a shift in Maria's tone as she said that last name, her voice turning almost wistful. Her brow furrowed as she studied her daughter. "Loki? You mean the trickster god?"

Maria blinked, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Uh-huh," she replied, suddenly very interested in flipping to the next page of her sketchbook.

Elena squinted, sensing something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Does my daughter have a crush on an actual god?

She sighed, another piece of information quietly shattering her already fragile perception of reality. But as Maria excitedly flipped through her sketchbook, showing off hero after hero with animated explanations, Elena couldn't help but smile. Her daughter was something else—so full of life, energy, and purpose.

Special, Elena thought, her heart swelling with both pride and protectiveness. Mine.

"Do you want to see the villains?" Maria asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Villains. Elena's smile faltered ever so slightly. Of course there'd be villains… Her stomach churned at the thought of her daughter facing off against powerful, dangerous people—monsters, even. What kind of mother lets her child dream of fighting villains?

"Um… sure, honey," Elena said hesitantly, her voice not quite matching her words.

Maria grinned and darted off to her room, returning moments later with another sketchbook in hand. This one was labeled "Marvel Villains" with a dramatically drawn frowny face on the cover.

Elena couldn't help but let out a soft laugh despite her unease. At least she has a sense of humor about it… I think.

"Okay, so like, there are a ton of villains," Maria began, scratching her head sheepishly. "I started with the big ones, but I'm still working on the rest."

She flipped open the sketchbook and presented the first page. It featured a man in a metal mask and a green cloak, drawn with dramatic, dark lines.

"Doctor Doom," Maria said, her voice practically dripping with awe. "He's like… the big, big bad. So he goes first!"

Elena raised an eyebrow, her stomach doing a little flip. Should I be concerned that my daughter likes villains too?

"He rules a country called Latveria," Maria continued, "but he wants to rule the world!"

Latveria. That caught Elena's attention. She frowned slightly, recalling a headline she'd read not long ago. Latveria… aren't they in the middle of a civil war?

Maria turned the page, diving headfirst into the next villain. "And this is Ultron!" she announced.

Elena's eyes widened at the sight of the genocidal robot. Yikes.

"Then there's this guy—Red Skull," Maria said, flipping to a chilling depiction of a man with a crimson, skull-like face.

Elena nearly recoiled. "Isn't that…?"

Maria nodded. "Yep."

Double yikes.

"And then—this is Galactus!" Maria declared, revealing a towering, cosmic figure that practically leapt off the page.

Elena blinked, her brain struggling to process. "What does he… do?"

"He eats planets!" Maria said, grinning as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

Elena stared at her daughter, then at the drawing, then back at her daughter. There aren't enough yikes in the universe to cover that one.

The page flipped to reveal a man in a purple cloak, his green skin contrasting sharply with his sinister, wide smile.

Elena glanced at Maria, expecting her usual excited commentary. Instead, she was met with a worried frown. Her daughter's eyes were fixed on the sketch, her expression unusually solemn.

"Maria?" Elena asked gently, reaching out to place a hand on her daughter's arm.

Maria didn't look up, her voice quiet and hesitant. "The Green Goblin," she said softly, almost… scared.

Elena's gaze dropped back to the drawing, studying it more closely. There was something about the figure's unnerving smile that sent a chill down her spine. She didn't know much about this villain, but the effect he had on Maria was enough to make her uneasy.

"What is it about him, mija?" Elena asked, her voice filled with concern.

Maria hesitated, her fingers brushing over the edge of the page. "He's… dangerous," she murmured, her tone carrying a weight that made Elena's chest tighten. "More than most of the others."

Elena's hand instinctively tightened on her daughter's arm, a protective instinct flaring. "We don't have to talk about him if you don't want to," she said softly.

Maria offered her mother a small, grateful smile but continued, her tone quieter now. "He's um… He kinda goes coocoo for cocoa puffs after taking a serum…" She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the corner of the page. "He's… abusive, manipulative… just straight-up evil."

Elena's stomach churned as she took in her daughter's words. She studied the depiction of the villain on the page—his eerie grin, the sinister glint in his eyes. Abusive… manipulative… The words struck a chord deep within her, unearthing a painful memory she thought she'd buried.

Just like her father.

The thought slammed into her, and she recoiled, forcing herself to breathe. No. He's gone. He never even met Maria. He can't hurt her… or me… anymore.

She clenched her fists, trying to shake off the shadow of a past that had no place in their lives now. He's not here. He's not part of this. But the idea of someone like him—someone abusive, manipulative, cruel—finding their way into Maria's world made her chest tighten.

Maybe this whole New York move needs to be rethought.

Maria flipped to the next page, eager to move on. It featured a towering purple figure wearing a gold gauntlet adorned with multiple, brightly colored stones.

"This is, um, Thanos," Maria said, her tone recovering some of its usual energy after the previous villain. "He's an alien warlord who wants to kill half the universe."

Elena blinked, her mind stuttering to a halt. "Half the universe? I'm sorry, what? Why?"

Maria shrugged, glancing at the sketch as if the answer was obvious. "Well… depends, I guess. Sometimes it's because he wants to, like… teach the universe a lesson about not using up resources or something." She trailed off, her expression shifting to uncertainty.

Elena raised an eyebrow. "And other times?"

Maria hesitated, then said casually, "Other times it's because he literally wants to, like… impress Death."

Elena froze, staring at her daughter in disbelief. "I'm sorry… did you just say Death? As in, the concept of Death? Like it's an actual person?"

Maria nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to her mother's growing bewilderment. "Yeah, she's kind of a big deal in the cosmic scene. He's totally obsessed with her."

Elena stared at her, the words 'cosmic scene' and 'Death as a person' looping in her head like a broken record.

Maria turned the page, revealing a haunting depiction of a woman draped in a dark cloak. Her face was a chilling dichotomy: the upper half appeared human, eerily serene, while the lower half was a skeletal visage, with remnants of rotting skin clinging to the bone. Beneath the drawing, Maria had written Lady Death in sharp, precise letters.

Elena stared at the drawing, an unsettling chill creeping up her spine. There was something about it—something she couldn't explain. The longer she looked, the more it felt like the figure's hollow eyes were staring back at her, peeling away her defenses and looking straight into her soul.

She tore her gaze away, shaking her head slightly to dispel the sudden sense of dread. "Maria… this one's…" she hesitated, trying to find the words, "…unsettling."

Maria glanced at the page, then back at her mom, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah… she's supposed to be. She's, like, the personification of Death. I guess it makes sense that she'd be scary."

Elena nodded absently, but the uneasy feeling didn't leave her. Scary doesn't even begin to cover it.

The uneasy feeling clung to her like a shadow as Elena clocked into her shift at Lee's diner. She plastered on her usual friendly smile, taking orders and chatting with the regulars, but her mind kept circling back to those villains Maria had shown her.

Genocidal robots, Nazis, a power-hungry dictator—those, as horrifying as they were, she could at least wrap her head around. But the threats like the world-eater, the mad titan, and Death herself? Elena shuddered at the thought.

And then there was the Green Goblin.

Every time his sinister grin crossed her mind, a knot tightened in her stomach. Out of all the villains, she hated him the most. He wasn't a cosmic force or an abstract concept—he was a man, manipulative and cruel. The last thing she wanted was for someone like him to infect her daughter's life. Especially after someone like that had infected hers…

The memory surfaced unbidden, a shadow of her past creeping in. For a fleeting moment, she let it through, unable to stop it. She thought about his charming words, his handsome smile—the way he had made her feel special, seen, loved. She had given her heart to a man who had filled her with false promises, painting a picture of a life she had desperately wanted to believe in.

But that picture had shattered.

Her chest tightened as the darker memories followed: the screams, the accusations, the beatings. She could almost feel the sting of his words, the pain of his blows, echoing across years she'd tried so hard to bury.

Her hand faltered as she set down a coffee cup, her breath hitching. She shook her head quickly, forcing herself to snap out of it. He's gone, she reminded herself. He's gone, and Maria will never know him. She'll never go through what I did.

But as her mind circled back to the Green Goblin, his sinister grin burned into her thoughts, she felt the knot in her stomach twist tighter. Not Maria. Never Maria.

Deciding she needed a break, Elena excused herself and slipped into the back room, leaning against the wall as she brought her hands to her face. Her thoughts raced, overwhelming her. Is this what Maria's future really looks like? Is this what my future looks like?

"You okay there, Elena?"

She flinched slightly, startled by the voice. It was Stan, her manager and owner of the diner—a kind older man with a trademark warm smile. He stepped into the room, studying her with mild concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he quipped, his tone light.

Elena appreciated the attempt at levity and let out a dry laugh. "Yeah… just…" She hesitated, searching for an excuse. "Everything's fine. You know how daughters can be."

Stan chuckled, nodding knowingly. "Oh, believe me, I know. Mine are both married now, but I still find myself worrying about them all the time."

He held out a mug of coffee toward her. "Thought you might need this."

Elena glanced at the mug, then up at him, her expression softening. "Thanks, Stan." she said quietly, taking it from him.

As she cradled the mug in her hands, the warmth seeped into her palms, but it did little to ease the exhaustion she suddenly felt. She stared down into the dark liquid, her reflection rippling faintly, and let out a weary sigh. What am I doing?

"Weight of the world on your shoulders, huh?" Stan said softly, his voice warm and understanding. "I've known you for a while now, Elena… You're one of the strongest, most dedicated people I know." He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his tone gentle but firm. "But even the strongest need someone to lend an ear, even if it's just for a moment."

The invitation was obvious, and Elena found herself torn. Her instinct was to brush it off, to bury the worry like she always did. But as she sipped the coffee, its warmth settling her nerves, she hesitated. Maybe just a little wouldn't hurt.

She took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the mug. "My daughter…" she began, a small smile tugging at her lips. "She's special. So special…" Her voice was soft, filled with a mix of pride and unease.

Stan nodded, his expression encouraging but quiet, letting her find her words.

"But I worry," Elena continued, her smile faltering, "that her dreams might put her in harm's way." Her voice dropped, tinged with vulnerability. "She's so determined, so full of purpose… but sometimes I wonder if she even understands what that could mean for her. For us."

She looked up at Stan, her eyes searching his for reassurance, but also bracing for judgment. Instead, she found only patience.

"I want to support her… and I do," Elena said, her voice trembling slightly as she stared into her coffee. "But if that means one day she could end up more hurt than I ever was…" She trailed off, her grip tightening around the mug.

"Shouldn't I, as her mother, stop that from happening? Isn't that my job?"

Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her emotions. She felt her chest tighten, the ache of doubt and fear pressing against her resolve. Am I doing the right thing? Or am I just setting her up for something worse?

Stan shifted slightly, his warm, steady gaze meeting hers. He didn't speak right away, giving her the space to voice her pain. "It's not an easy thing," he finally said gently. "Letting someone chase a dream, especially when you know the risks. But you wouldn't be the mother she needs if you didn't care this much."

He paused, then added, "The question isn't whether you should stop her. It's whether you can show her how to face whatever's ahead—and trust that she'll have the strength to do it."

"I've learned that, as parents, we hold a kind of great power over our kids' lives," Stan said thoughtfully, his voice steady. "And with that great power comes an even greater responsibility—not to control their paths, but to prepare them for whatever future they choose."

He leaned back slightly, his arms still crossed. "We can't shield them from everything, no matter how much we want to. But we can give them the tools to stand on their own, to face the world and everything it throws at them."

His gaze softened as he looked at Elena. "And it sounds like your daughter already has a lot of strength in her. Maybe she's just waiting to see that you trust her enough to use it."

Elena felt those words settle deep in her chest, like a light piercing through the fog of doubt that had clouded her for weeks. The weight of uncertainty she'd been carrying didn't vanish, but it shifted—becoming something she could hold, something she could manage.

She had felt so lost, so unsure of what to do, of how to protect Maria without stifling her dreams. But now… now she felt like she had a purpose too. A clarity she hadn't realized she needed. Her heart ached with both fear and hope, but for the first time, she didn't feel paralyzed by it. Instead, she felt… ready.

"And maybe," Stan said with a warm chuckle, "showing her that you have the strength to follow through with her too. Though, to be honest, I already know you have it."

Elena smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached her eyes. Maybe I do, she thought, holding onto that spark of determination like a lifeline.

"Hey, um, Elena. There are a few tables asking for you up front," another waiter called, poking his head into the back room.

Elena sighed, setting her now-empty coffee mug on the counter.

Stan chuckled, patting her gently on the back as he headed toward his office. "Nuff said," he teased with a wink.

Elena couldn't help but smile, giving him a grateful look. Whatever the universe throws at us, she thought as she smoothed her apron and stood a little taller, We'll face it. Together.

With that resolve steady in her chest, she walked back out into the diner, ready for whatever came next.

I. HATE. SCHOOL.

I groaned as our substitute teacher herded us outside for recess. She was, without a doubt, the worst substitute teacher I've ever had. And that says a lot considering this is my second time going through elementary school!

Mrs. Trotter. Ugh. On the surface, she looked like your typical cheerful blonde lady, all smiles and sunshine. But I swear, I have never met someone who could care so little while pretending they cared so much.

The class was a zoo today. Kids running wild, yelling, throwing things. My head was pounding from how LOUD everything was! And what did Mrs. Trotter do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Worst. Day. Ever.

It didn't help that David was practically glued to me like a… puppy. A smelly, hyperactive puppy. HE SMELLS SO BAD! I swear, it's like the universe took one look at me and said, "Let's give Maria a headache, then let's give her headache a headache!"

"Wanna play freeze tag?" David asked, his tone so innocent it almost made me feel bad for being annoyed.

I sighed, turning to him and trying so hard not to make a face. "David… we need more than two people to play freeze tag," I said, barely keeping the irritation out of my voice.

He flinched for a second, and a tiny pang of guilt hit me, but then he grinned like nothing had happened. "Okay! I'll find some more!" he said cheerfully before running off.

At least he took the smell with him.

I found a bench to sit on, plopping down with a dramatic sigh. Rubbing my temples, I tried to coax my pounding headache into submission. Please, just go away already.

I glanced over to the teacher's area, and sure enough, there she was—Mrs. Trotter. Completely checked out, sitting under a tree and glued to her phone like this was some kind of vacation.

How did she even get this job?

I pinched the bridge of my nose and groaned. I can't believe I'm about to say this… but I'd prefer Matilda over this. The thought alone made me shudder.

This is fine. I'm fine. Just need to be patient. We'll move to New York, I'll get bit by a radioactive spider, and then it's Spider-Woman time!

Or… Spider-Girl?

I frowned, my headache temporarily forgotten as I mulled over the names. Spider-Woman sounds cool and all, but Spider-Girl just… flows better. Plus, it works perfectly with the theme song I've been working on!

I hummed softly to myself, the words coming together in a rhythm:

Spider-Girl, Spider-Girl,
In the air, watch her twirl.
Spins a web, any size,
Catches thieves just like flies.
Watch out—
Here comes the Spider-Girl!

A small grin spread across my face as I sang it in my head. Okay, that definitely felt right. And technically… Spider-Woman is already taken. Well, it will be… unless I take it first.

But then again… Spider-Woman sounds way more mature than Spider-Girl. It makes me feel more… I don't know, established? Like, grown-up and legit. I mean, it's not like Peter ever considered calling himself Spider-Boy.

Oof. Spider-Boy. I cringed just thinking about it. Yeah, no thanks. That sounds like a sidekick name. Pass.

But then there's the theme song… Spider-Woman just breaks the flow. Too many syllables. It ruins the whole rhythm!

I sighed dramatically, slumping back against the bench. Maybe I should just scrap it entirely and come up with something brand new. Something uniquely me. After all, why should I settle for leeching off Parker's theme song when I can create something even better?

I smirked at the thought. Yeah, that's right. You heard that, Peter? I'll be a way better Spider than you ever were! I'll even have a way better theme song to prove it!

I sat up straighter, my headache momentarily forgotten as the excitement bubbled in my chest.

I was all set to continue this imaginary beef with Peter when a couple of angry yells sliced through the air, yanking me out of my daydream.

I looked over and groaned. Oh no…

David was being cornered by them.

The Terrible Trio, as I liked to call them. Jimmy, the self-appointed leader, had the kind of hairdo that looked like it lost a fight with a lawnmower. Timmy was all buck teeth and a permanent sneer, like a cartoon villain in the making. And then there was Carly—the diva. She was the queen of tantrums and whining, her attitude scraping the very bottom of the "I'm a terrible kid with neglectful parents" barrel.

I sighed, rubbing my temples again. Can I just have one peaceful day?

I groaned, getting up from the bench and heading toward Mrs. Trotter, who was sitting under a tree with her phone. As I got closer, I froze. Wait… is she video calling someone? My eyes widened as I caught part of the conversation. Something about… okay, ew. Never mind. Not repeating that.

What the actual fuck? You're working in an elementary school!

I took a deep breath and forced myself to speak. "Hey, Mrs. Trotter?" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "David is being bullied. Again." I pointed toward the Terrible Trio, who were currently harassing him.

Mrs. Trotter sighed dramatically, looking up at me with a thoroughly annoyed expression before lazily flicking her eyes toward the group. "They're fine," she said dismissively, waving her hand like she was swatting a fly. "Boys will be boys, or whatever. Please leave me alone—I'm in the middle of a very important call."

She shooed me away with a flick of her wrist and went right back to her phone.

Unbelievable.

I groaned again—seriously, I've lost count at this point—and dragged myself toward the group. Guess I'll be the responsible one. Yay me.

As I got closer, the scene unfolded like some clichéd playground drama. Jimmy had David by the collar, his smirk radiating peak bully energy. David was crying, his face red and blotchy, while Timmy and Carly danced around him, chanting "Stinky boy! Stinky boy!" like it was their favorite mantra.

"Leave him alone, Jimmy!" I shouted as I finally caught up to them.

Jimmy smirked, his smug expression making my blood boil, and shoved David to the ground. The trio turned their attention to me, their laughter grating on my nerves. "It's his fault for being so stinky all the time!" Jimmy jeered, and the other two cackled along like his personal hyenas.

David whimpered, curling in on himself, and I sighed heavily. Why do kids have to be like this? "Look," I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. "Just… go play somewhere else. Please?" I knew it was a long shot, but hey, worth a try.

Jimmy glanced down at David, who looked up at him with teary, pleading eyes. For a moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, they'd let it go.

I crouched down, gently taking David's arm. "Come on, David," I said softly. "Let's go play somewhere else, okay?"

David sniffled, nodding as he began to get up, but then Jimmy's hand shot out, grabbing my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" he sneered, his grip tightening.

…Oh hell no.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I spun around and slapped Jimmy hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed, and he let go of my arm, staring at me in stunned silence. His shock quickly morphed into anger, and his eyes flashed as he let out a growl, stepping forward.

Without hesitation, I kicked him square in the groin. His eyes went wide, his mouth opened in a silent scream, and he crumpled to the ground, clutching his pelvis like his life depended on it. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he whimpered pitifully.

I rolled my eyes and turned to the other two. Timmy's face was pale, his buck teeth trembling in fear, but Carly… Carly looked like she was ready to throw down.

Alright then. Let's drive this message home.

I planted my foot on Jimmy's face—not too hard, just enough to make my point. Carly froze, her bravado wavering as she took a cautious step back.

I straightened up, pointing at both of them, my voice sharp and firm. "Leave. Him. Alone."

They exchanged nervous glances, then looked down at Jimmy, still writhing on the ground. Hesitantly, they nodded.

"Say it," I growled, narrowing my eyes.

"We'll leave him alone," they stammered in unison, their voices shaky.

I held out my pinky, raising an eyebrow. "Pinky promise," I said, my tone dripping with menace.

They stared at me like I'd lost my mind, but after a moment of hesitation, they each reluctantly wrapped their pinkies around mine. "We promise," they mumbled again, barely above a whisper.

"You know what happens when you break a pinky promise?" I asked, my glare icy and unrelenting.

They shook their heads quickly, eyes wide with fear.

I gestured toward Jimmy, lying in a pathetic heap on the ground, then looked back at them pointedly. "Got it?"

They nodded furiously, their faces pale.

"Good," I said, letting my hand drop as I stood tall, my confidence radiating.

I turned to look at David, who was staring up at me with the most grateful eyes imaginable. Great… now he's gonna be even more attached.

I sighed internally. If the smell doesn't kill me… my own nose will. Either way, Death is gonna claim my soul.

I sighed, then glanced back at Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum, who were still frozen in place, unsure whether to run or stay put. I flashed them my sweetest, most innocent smile.

"So… do you guys want to play freeze tag?" I asked, my voice light and cheerful, as if I hadn't just turned their leader into a sniveling mess.

Their jaws dropped slightly, and I fought to keep the smile from turning into a smirk. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Elena stretched, letting out a tired yawn as she finally finished her shift. She clocked out, exchanged goodbyes with her coworkers, and paused to thank Stan again for their earlier talk. He just smiled warmly and waved her off, his usual simple, grounded demeanor on full display. She smiled back, shaking her head. He's such a simple man, but sometimes, that's exactly what I need.

Before leaving, she stopped by the break room to grab her purse. The TV in the corner was on, the news channel reporting something about a prison riot at New Jersey State Prison. Elena froze for a moment, the mention tugging at her frayed nerves, but she quickly grabbed the remote and turned it off. No. She didn't need any more stress tonight. She took a deep breath, pushing the unease aside as best she could, and headed out to the parking lot.

As she made her way to her car, Elena rifled through her purse, her fingers brushing past loose receipts and lip balm as she searched for her keys. The parking lot was quiet—it felt… too quiet. The faint hum of the diner's lights buzzed in the background, their soft glow spilling into the twilight and creating long, eerie shadows.

She reached her car, her heartbeat quickening for reasons she couldn't explain. Her hands fumbled with the keys, their jangling the only sound breaking the silence. The air felt… heavy, like it was pressing down on her chest.

Something's off.

Her eyes darted around, scanning every shadow, every corner of the lot. Her breath hitched as she thought she saw movement—a flicker in her peripheral vision. But when she turned her head, there was nothing.

No movement. No sound. Just her own rapid breathing and the growing sense that she wasn't alone.

It's fine. Just get in the car.

Her hands shook as she finally pulled the keys free, gripping them so tightly the jagged metal edges dug into her palm. She forced herself to take a step forward, the distance between her and the car door feeling impossibly far.

Reaching the handle, her fingers hovered over it for a moment as her instincts screamed at her to turn around, to run.

That's when she felt it—an arm grabbing her roughly from behind.

"Elena," a voice growled, low and menacing.

That voice. The one that sent icy shivers down her spine and her heart racing into overdrive.

No.

Her breath caught as she turned her head, trembling. No, no, no, this can't be. He was arrested. He's supposed to be gone—

She looked up, and there he was.

Him.

Carlos… Her ex.

Her heart lodged itself in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"How… how did you get out?" Elena stammered, her voice trembling with fear. Flashes of the past flooded her mind—nights of pain, screaming, and helplessness. For a moment, she was that broken young woman again, beaten, bruised, and powerless.

Then a chilling realization crept over her. The news in the break room. The riot at Hudson State Penitentiary. Her stomach dropped. That's where he was. That's where he was supposed to stay.

Her mind raced, terror twisting into frustration. Why wasn't I warned? They should have told me he escaped. Isn't that what they're supposed to do? How could they let this happen?

But his grip on her arm pulled her back to the present, the sharp pressure digging into her skin and shattering her spiraling thoughts.

"It's been a long time, mami…" he murmured, his voice low and menacing as he pressed himself up against her. A sickening wave of disgust surged through Elena, layering atop her fear. She twisted and pushed against him, but his grip was unrelenting.

"I want to meet her. My daughter," he whispered, his tone carrying an unsettling edge, one that sent a chill down her spine. It wasn't the voice of a father; it was something warped and wrong. His eyes burned with a twisted determination, and as his grip on her arm tightened further, panic clawed its way through her chest.

Elena's breath quickened, her mind racing as she fought to stay composed. This couldn't be happening. Not now.

Maria.

The thought of him near her daughter, of what he could do to her, snapped Elena out of her fear-induced trance like a lightning bolt. Anger surged in her chest, washing away the trembling helplessness.

"Never," she hissed, her voice low and fierce, her eyes locking onto his with defiance. "You will never meet her."

His face twisted into a snarl, and before she could react, he yanked her arm, sending her crashing to the ground. Pain shot through her shoulder, but she ignored it, scrambling backward as he stalked toward her, taunting her with a knife glinting in his hand.

"Quedate ahí, Elena…" ("Stay down") he smirked, his voice heavy with menace and amusement. "I told you I'd find you."

Elena's mind raced as she fumbled with her purse, her fingers trembling as they found the pepper spray. She held it up, her hand steady even as her heart pounded like a drum in her chest.

"My daughter is special," she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. "She's beautiful. She's intelligent. And you?" A bitter laugh escaped her as she glared at him, pure disdain burning in her eyes. "Eres un desgraciado. Un maldito cobarde que no merece ni el aire que respira." ("You're a disgrace. A damn coward who doesn't even deserve the air he breathes.")

Her voice grew louder, fiercer, as the fire of her anger burned away the fear. "She's never once asked about you. ¿Sabes por qué? Porque nunca has sido nada para ella. Ni siquiera un recuerdo. ("Do you know why? Because you've never been anything to her. Not even a memory.") She doesn't need you. I don't need you. ¡Nunca más, desgraciado de mierda!" ("Never again, you fucking disgrace!")

She pressed the trigger, a jet of spray hitting him square in the face.

He howled in rage, stumbling back as he clawed at his eyes.

Elena didn't wait. She scrambled to her feet and bolted for the car, but he recovered quicker than she expected.

"¡Maldita perra!" ("Fucking bitch!") he roared, his voice dripping with venom as he lunged at her, his face twisted into a snarl. "Piensas que eres fuerte ahora, pero siempre serás la misma perra débil." ("You think you're strong now, but you'll always be the same weak bitch.")

Something inside Elena snapped. She spun around just in time to dodge his attack, her fist flying forward and connecting with his jaw. The impact jolted through her arm, but it barely staggered him.

"Fuerte o débil, no importa," she spat, her voice cold and steady. "No dejaré que te acerques a ella. Jamás." ("Strong or weak, it doesn't matter. I will never let you near her. Ever.")

He swung wildly with the knife, the blade flashing in the dim light. She ducked, adrenaline surging as she drove her knee sharply into his groin. He grunted, doubling over, but as she tried to shove him away, he latched onto her wrist with a crushing grip.

¡Piensa, Elena! ("Think!")

Her free hand scrambled for her keys. Clutching them tightly, she aimed and jabbed them into his arm with all her strength. The sharp metal pierced his skin, drawing blood. He hissed in pain, his grip faltering just enough for her to wrench herself free.

She stumbled back, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she yanked the car door open and threw herself inside.

"¡Puta estúpida!" ("Stupid bitch!") he spat, his voice a venomous growl. Before she could fully shut the door, he slammed his fist against the glass window.

The glass cracked.

Her heart stopped as she stared at the spiderweb fractures spreading across the surface.

With shaking hands, she jammed the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life just as he swung again, this time shattering the window entirely. Glass sprayed across the car's interior, cutting her cheek as she fumbled for the gear shift.

He reached inside, his hand clawing for her, but she didn't hesitate.

Elena threw the car into reverse and slammed her foot on the gas. The car lurched backward, the sudden motion throwing him off balance. He stumbled, falling hard onto the pavement, his growl of frustration echoing in her ears.

She didn't wait to see if he'd get up. She shifted into drive, tires screeching as she sped out of the parking lot, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Tears blurred her vision, but she forced herself to focus. Whatever it took, she would keep Maria safe. No one—no one—was going to hurt her daughter.

Maria. I need to get to Maria.