Marinette quickly realizes the massive amount of content is too much for her to commit to on a threadbare resolve, so she asks Alya for some research tips and company. Her best friend agrees to meet her at the school library after their final classes since she'd already been approved by her parents to stay after for working on a research project.

"So what are you trying to find out anyway?" Alya inquires as they settle in front of a pair of computers in an unfrequented corner.

"I've been trying to do some research on my family, but I haven't gotten anywhere."

"Is this about Lila?"

"No. This is about me." Marinette scrunches up her nose. "Why would it be about Lila?"

"Didn't she put a hit on you and your grandma? Isn't that vendetta worthy?"

Marinette squints humorlessly at Alya's bitten off smirk. "You are enjoying this too much."

"Okay, okay," Alya begins moving the mouse to her computer. She clicks and slides and clicks, then cracks her knuckles upon arriving at the Googs landing page. "What have you already found out? Is there anything specific you're looking for?" she asks.

Marinette wilts. "All I know is that my grandma might very well have been a criminal, and she might not have finished all of her business." Her head bobs to the side. "I just want to know if she really… if my dad and grandpa really… were a part of that. And whether or not we're safe."

Alya nods, beginning to type something into the search engine bar. She pauses, then asks, "When was your grandma born?"

Marinette blinks. "Uh…" she searches every corner of her mind but can't find an answer. "My dad was born in 1973. I think grandma was… 25? 26? When she had him?"

Alya nods and types some more. Within moments she has a neat, trustworthy article written by a mob fanatic on the screen. She begins reading immediately, scrolling as she goes, and so Marinette scrambles to lean over and quickly read as well.

But she's weak. Marinette's head thumps on the table, startling her upright. Alya flashes her a look. "You okay, girl?"

Marinette shrugs. "I guess. I'm tired from fighting at night all the time, and I've never been a strong reader. I like fiction books mostly," she yawns into her hand and winces. "Sorry. I'll try harder to stay up."

But it isn't much use. As before, on her own, Marinette keeps nodding off. When she sees a bill-sized welt forming on her forehead in the reflection of her sleeping monitor screen, she decides it's time she gave up.

Naturally, Alya gradually comandeers the research. She eventually gets so engrossed that the project becomes her own. Marinette isn't sure how long its been when Alya shakes her awake, but the screen of Alya's monitor casts a glow onto everything in a way it hadn't last she remembered.

Sitting upright slowly, Marinette automatically wipes the drool from her face. "What is it?"

"I used your dad's birthday to approximate when your Nonna might have been active in the Family. Then I researched the things you Mozzarellas were up to during that time. There's a lot of good stuff here, but I'll give you the important things.

"Your family is huge–well, it was. Before 2003, they called it the Mozzarella Clan. The family is based in Naples, but you can trace the blood back to Sicily. Unlike most families, you guys actually let females have more action, which made you more powerful because all of the women weren't suspected, obviously, giving you the upper hand. You're in pretty deep competition with the Bolognes, I would keep tabs on news concerning them. Looks like they're in France now. And I think your grandma was high-profile in the late sixties."

Marinette looks aghast at her. "I'm not a criminal. We are not all criminals!" Alya shrugs, of all things. "And we have no competition with these Bolognes. I think I would remember something like that "

"Alright, you're clean. Your Mozzarella Clan is definitely wanted by the entire European Union, and beefing with that lunch meat, though."

"It's not my clan." Marinette frowns. "What are they wanted for?"

"You know, the classics. A bunch of rackets, some embezzlement, some fraud. Drug dealing. Illegal tobacco." Alya rests her elbow on the table and sets her chin in the palm of her hand. Her smile curls around her glasses. "Though at one point, there were some new tactics in Paris they could never prove were the Mozzarella's."

Marinette's brow pinches as conflicting emotions begin swirling in her chest. "You said my Nonna may be high-profile?"

"She was—it looks like. Gina Mozzarella, daughter of Corelli Mozzarella and Diane Mozzarella, sent to school in Paris, France. She apparently set up shop in Paris, creating a vein of crime that is vital to international smuggling rings today. After her father was killed and her mother convicted after a big fight with the Bolognes, she went into hiding. The family hasn't resurged since."

"Wow."

"Sounds like a movie, doesn't it?"

"I guess," Marinette says distractedly. She swears she saw a shadow walking by one of the bookshelves... "Did you find anything on my dad? Or grandpa?"

"No," Alya begins writing something in her notebook. That's right, she has her own assignment to complete. Marinette groans internally at her failure as a friend to use her time wisely. "Neither of them are mentioned by name—in fact, they're both written speculatively. I don't think it's public knowledge that your Nonna had a child. To be honest, she may be an illegal alien."

"She doesn't live in France." Marinette intones flatly. Her eyes try to find that shadow again. Maybe it's nothing, just an illusion created by the headlights of a passing car, or maybe it's someone. Someone akumatised, someone from Italy? Someone out to destroy her.

"That explains a lot. Do you know if your Nonna and grandpa ever got married?"

Marinette considers that. It surprises her how long the answer takes to present itself.

"No," she says, eyebrows lifting, "I don't know. I've only ever known them as separated. I didn't even know I had a grandpa for fourteen years."

"So technically, they could have made your dad out of wedlock."

"That seems like my Nonna's style, not gonna lie." Marinette chuckles lightly. Then, upon reflection, adds, "Not that she's... well, not that I would know, but I don't think she's... you know. A grasshopper."

Alya's expression flattens into a long, pensive stare. Once she decodes what Marinette said, her grin returns. "That is such a cute way to say hoe."

Marinette laughs instantly. "Shut up."

"Soo," Alya starts after their short giggling fit is over. She begins closing the Googs tabs on the computer. "I have an anthropology paper due, and your family would be kiiind of perfeeect?"

Marinette nods warmly. "Go ahead." Her best friend's brilliant smile is a great reward.

"I'll be using pseudonyms of course," Alya smartly taps her papers on the table before slipping them into a brightly colored folder. She pumps her fist as she triumphantly shuts down the monitor. "Confidentiality and all. And maybe safety? No telling."

Marinette pauses. As much as she wishes she could assure Alya that nothing will happen, she really doesn't know. "About that," she says, her serious tone quickly getting the other girl's attention. "I appreciate your help with this, but it would definitely be best if you didn't help me any more. I can't risk dragging you into something."

"Marinette," Alya's eyes beam meaningfully at her, sober, "You know I can take care of myself."

"And you know I can take care of myself," Marinette replies, referring to her own super-powered alterego. "But these people are conniving in an evil way, and they're not afraid of being caught. They're ruthless, and will use whatever they can to make us powerless. You have three sisters," Marinette emphasizes the number, pauses so Alya can absorb what she's saying. "Think about them. Think about what weapons and other things they would use to hurt them if they found out about you."

"I have four sisters," Alya replies firmly. Marinette can feel emotion building behind her eyes. "And I love them all. I can't just turn a blind eye to one of them in their time of need."

"It's not turning a blind eye—"

"That is by definition what you are asking me to do."

"It's not for long. Just until I can figure out what part my Nonna plays in all this. Then you won't have to worry anymore."

"Marinette, what if she's still game?"

She—still game? What if? Marinette hasn't properly considered it. She's kind of been avoiding it. Because if her Nonna is still game, then she's still a criminal, and likely interested in making her granddaughter a criminal, too. Unless she had pressure keeping her in the circuit against her desires.

"She's not," Marinette affirms instead of voicing her doubt. "She left after having my dad, right? And I doubt she has any friends left. She wouldn't bring that danger on my family.

"Anyways, it's not like I'm alone," Marinette drums her fingers on the table. She looks away from Alya. "I have an ally. Another one."

Alya eyes her oddly. "Would I approve of this mystery ally?"

Marinette laughs nervously. "Uh, actually, yeah, you would." For all the misguided reasons.

Alya eyes her skeptically for a few seconds more before continuing to pack up her things. "Well, whatever you say, whatever comes, I'll always be there for you."

"Thanks, Alya." Marinette helps Alya grab the last of her study supplies, then envelopes her in a hug. "I would do the same for you. If you ever need anything, just ask."

"Remember you said that."

The friends finish collecting their things just as it hits seven o'clock. When they exit the library, the halls are silent and the sun has begun growing orange.

"Ah," Alya sighs suddenly as they begin descending the stairs. Her arms tighten their hold around her books. "Now I'll be able to spend some time with Nino tomorrow." She turns to wiggle her eyebrows at Marinette, and Marinette playfully exclaims she doesn't want to know.

Alya and Nino's relationship has only continued to grow stronger since it began three years ago. It's common to see them effortlessly in synch, building off of each other's energy or ideas, or enviously content in their own pocket of reality. A time or two (or a dozen), they've even been caught skipping class just to see each other. Marinette wouldn't be surprised if the two got up to...other things when they were alone. Frankly, she's betting on them getting engaged after high school.

(Seriously, there's a pool, and she's pretty confident she'll be set up to cover a dorm for University.)

And lo and behold, awaiting them at the front of the school is Nino in his new blue chariot.

Alya is delightfully surprised, and squeals just a little bit. Marinette's mouth starts to smile, but it falls into a frown at the itchy feeling of someone watching her. She looks over both shoulders, but catches only the sun in her eyes.

"Babe!" Alya exclaims, quickly closing the space between her and the car. She leans into the driverside window to share a quick kiss with her boyfriend. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear like she's coy and getting butterflies—maybe she is. "What are you doing here?" Alya asks Nino.

Her lad smiles broad and sweet, in his tender, lovesick fashion only apparent to the outside observer. It's honestly so dopey, but Alya swears it's the most handsome thing on Earth. "After a little negotiating, Mom and Dad extended my curfew. You're about to experience a whole new level of privilege, baby."

Marinette rolls her eyes; something else that had gotten stronger over the years was Nino's inability to curb his pride around his girlfriend. It was cute until he took it too far trying to impress her.

Marinette chimes in, brushing off the impending "third wheel" scenario. "Alright, we're living the high life now." She calls to him as she walks over.

When Nino looks over and notices her, he makes a lazy shooing motion with his hand to match the lazy disdain coming over his face. "Oh, uh, maybe you should try the bus or something." he says in a prissy grumble.

"You prick," Marinette grins widely in amusement. "Alya, you're gonna let him talk to me like that?"

Alya looks at her sideways and purses her lips. "You could be a little more—what do you call it, babe? Swank?"

Nino nods stoicly. "Swank." he echoes.

Marinette just laughs, and the other two join her. She approaches the passenger door and Nino reaches his hand to the open window to give her a fist-bump.

"Nah, for real, ladies," Nino begins again, his cool persona back in place. "I am here to take you home. Adrien told me y'all had some studying to do, and I figured you'd be out around now."

Alya wastes no time pacing around to the passenger's door and letting herself into the car beside Nino.

Marinette takes a step back. "Actually," she begins to decline, "I'll just take the metro. My house is out of the way, and I know your parents can be really strict sometimes. I don't want to slow you down. Besides, I know you guys wanna be alone."

"Marinette, it's really no trouble." says Nino. "My parents front around others, but they're not that strict."

"Yeah, and we'll have alone time tomorrow," Alya adds. "Please, it'll be safer."

Marinette tries to give a meaningful glint to her eye, but she's not sure she succeeds. "Don't worry, guys, I'll be fine! Ladybug is always around."

Alya understands right away.

"You're right," she says brightly—and maybe a little too quickly—"Get home safe, girl. See you tomorrow."

"Night, Marinette." Nino waves.

Marinette takes another step back and waves them away. Nino hits the gas and she watches them merge into evening traffic.

Looking left and right, Marinette searches for somewhere to transform into Ladybug. She finds a suitable pillar-shaped shrub fifteen feet away and immediately paces toward it.

: :

She doesn't make it.

"How much does she know?"

"Ghuh!" Marinette jumps and spins around, heart rising and falling dangerously fast, arms flailing into a half-offensive, half-defensive configuration.

It's someone out to destroy her alright.

Lila rolls her eyes as she emerges from the shadows. "Your nerves are weak. We'll have to work on that."

Marinette scoffs and mirrors Lila's crossed arms. She's at a loss for words for a few seconds, in disbelief. "I don't even know where to begin."

"You can just answer my question." Lila offers through a huff, as if she has the burden of doing all the thinking between the two of them.

"Don't worry about it, Lila," Marinette drawls, "Alya doesn't want part of the 'action,' she just wants a good grade."

"Alya's a bloodhound. If she becomes too intrigued, she could make things very difficult for us."

"Us?" Marinette sputters, knowing she doesn't want to know but fearing the consequences if she ignores it. "Difficult how?"

"That meddler is bound to get involved sooner or later. The question is how involved. We can control that. You need to keep her at arms length for a while."

Marinette opens her mouth to tell Lila to keep her horrible friendship advice to herself, but hesitates on that response. As much as it pains her to agree with Lila on anything, the liar has a point. Instead, Marinette grumbles back, "That shouldn't be too hard. She's up to her neck in responsibilities."

Between volunteering, writing for the local paper, maintaining the Ladyblog, watching her sisters, moonlighting as Rena Rouge, and dating, Alya has a full plate. It is honestly a mystery how she's managing to be crushing school. For so many reasons, Marinette envies her life-management abilities right now.

"That didn't stop your little study session tonight, did it?" Lila snaps, and Marinette suddenly finds herself wanting Alya's Bitch Repellant, too. "If you're going to do this, the first thing you need to understand is classes of people."

"These creeps are all like you, and I know your type well enough." Marinette quips smartly.

"Not type, class. Echelon. Level. You have low-level, spineless yes-men like our dear mayor who can be bought, gutless, indecisive bystanders like most of our schoolmates, the opportunists who make their bets like Sabrina, some powerful goons that like to wave their big stick around, and then the actual players. Alya Cesaire is a player. Other players are dangerous."

"Alya isn't dangerous."

"Players rally opportunists to their cause and awaken bystanders, giving them strength in numbers. They have drive, stakes, no fear, and self-reliance. It would be bad enough if she were looking for a portion of the pot, but she's entirely against it. If you're not careful, your best friend could turn into your worst enemy."

Marinette pinches the bridge of her nose—that's how tired and done she is right now. "Lila, I'm entirely against this; I told you I don't want this empire you seem to think is waiting around for me. There is no pot."

"That joke is losing its humor."

"I'm serious."

"It used to be cute that you think so. Now it's just sad."

"Ugh, why do I talk to you?"

"Because I know what you need to do."

"And what is that, oh knowledgeable Don?"

"You need to get made."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mi fai schifo—all that research and you still don't know? It means you need to prove you're committed to the family business."

"Get home safe, Lila."

"Marinette, wait!"

Marinette doesn't look back. "We just went over this. I get we're not friends, but you could at least pretend to listen to me."

"You won't find anything of value to the current situation online, and you think your Nonna is just going to tell you what's going on?" Marinette walks faster, and hears Lila's steps pick up behind her. "She won't. Not if she's the real deal. You weren't raised with loyalty to the Family. To tell you anything would be too risky. She would need to know you'll keep it close to your chest. The only way to prove that to people as paranoid and controlling as mafiosos is getting sworn in. And even then they're not satisfied."

"So what's the point?"

"If it's as you say and your Nonna actually cares about you, she has twice the reason not to tell you anything as you are now. But if you can prove that you fully understand what it means that men are after your family, then she'll have twice the reason to let you in instead."

Marinette thinks about this. Lila makes it sound so simple, so sensible, but that's how she makes everything sound—that's how she lies so well. This could be another clever manipulation, a way to sap the secrets of her family out of the tree and into her tainted bottle. She'd already lead with her desire for money and power—the truth—a lie was due sometime soon.

"So how does one get made?"

"Traditionally, the prospect is blindfolded, transported to a secret meeting location, handed a gun, and ordered to commit a crime within a certain timeframe. Often, the whole ordeal ends with bloodshed."

"I'm not shedding any blood, Lila."

Lila waves her off. "You don't have to. That's a dumb ritual made by boys for boys. They don't feel useful unless they can break something." The brunette blinks, as if remembering something. "Oh, and women aren't traditionally made anyway."

"Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Get made, obviously."

"How?"

Lila pursed her lips in dissatisfaction. "I don't know. Best to be succinct about it, though. Prove your resolve and create some dirt that can be held over you at the same time."

"Excuse me?"

"Commiting some form of crime is a must. When you do, they'll hold it over you to discourage shifting of loyalties."

"But—but theyre all criminals, too!"

"And they'll sell you out to save their own skin."

"Some family."

"What you need to worry about is proving your resolve. It has to be extreme enough that they believe you're committed."

"You know what?" Marinette interrupted, "This is crazy. I can't believe I let you talk me to this point. I'm not committing any crimes, I'm just going to ask my grandma if my family should be expecting unwelcome company soon."

"We both know the answer to that is yes." Lila stops following Marinette, but her voice trails after her quietly. "You just need to decide what you're going to do about it."