"Are you kidding?" Quinn squawked into the phone. "What do you mean coffee grain is up 10%? You said you could hold the price until the end of the semester!"

While the supplier was justifying himself on the phone, Quinn was calculating in her head. She worked in a coffee shop that catered to the community college's students. Not the moneyed elite who could afford an overpriced bad coffee, as long as it was from a trendy brand. The increase in raw materials for the business she ran meant that she would have to pass the increase on to her customers: just those who not only had no money to spare, but would also be able to organize a protest about it. Passing on the extra costs could be done in one of two ways: either Quinn maintained the price and reduced the quantity of coffee, or she raised the price. Even if it was in the penny range, customers always noticed an complain. Doing nothing meant that she would have 10% less in the profit bracket.

The anti-capitalists would call Quinn a mercenary. But the same anti-capitalists didn't understand how complicated maintaining a business was. Quinn and Joe paid a lot of taxes to the government, the rent for the space, the energy and water consumption fees to keep everything running, the raw materials, all the disposables and the material to maintain the hygiene of the place. The profit wasn't simply split in two. Even though they owned the business, Joe and Quinn made minimum wage. The real profit was the little that was left over from all that money, if any. Even so, what was called profit was deposited in the company's cashier so that there would be some money for maintenance, unforeseen events and even future investments.

Ten percent less in average profit could mean a decrease in Quinn's salary, which could jeopardize her ability to stay in the city and support her daughter. She also had to pay the rent for the apartment she lived in, taxes, food and other expenses, such as transportation. Not to mention clothing for Beth, which was growing by the day.

Quinn hung up the phone, and her steps became heavy. As she walked back home in the middle of the night, she barely noticed the approach of a man with no good intentions.

"Stay still and hand over your phone and purse." The man leaned against her. "Hand them over or you'll get shot."

In a panic, she handed over what the robber asked for. That was rule number one, right? Don't fight back.

"Please, just don't hurt me." She said in a shaky voice. Her legs went weak.

The man had what he wanted, but he didn't seem to move away as if he had changed his mind. At that moment, Quinn feared the same thing would happen to her that had happened to Rachel Berry. Her hands started to get cold and the humidity caused a delicate, fragile layer of ice crystals to form on her skin. Suddenly, the assailant fell. Quinn looked back and saw the man on the ground, his hand to his head, bleeding and completely dazed. Next to him was a brick. Quinn took the opportunity to retrieve her cell phone and purse. She kicked the assailant in the balls and ran to the apartment, which was located in the next block. Curiosity about where the bloody brick had come from would have to wait until later. Whether it was divine providence or the work of a benefactor, or both, was a mystery that she wasn't willing to decipher at the moment when her heart was racing and adrenaline was what drove her to the apartment where she lived.

At the door to the building, Quinn didn't realize there was another person heading in the same direction and bumped into them.

"Hey!" The man tried to absorb the impact, but ended up on the ground with the beautiful blonde girl. The contents of the bag the man was carrying scattered across the floor, as did Quinn's purse and cell phone.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry!" Quinn said in a panic.

She grabbed the man's arm and his eyes widened at the contact. It was as if his arm was freezing, and the source of the intense cold was that woman. The man pulled his arm towards himself, disentangling himself from the attractive young woman. She stood up quickly and tried not to touch anything but her own things.

"Fuck, did you freeze my arm?" The man stood up and started shaking his arm in the hope of reviving it from its sudden numbness.

"Sorry... I..." Quinn began to laugh nervously. "I'm clumsy." She tried to run through the door.

"Wait a minute! Please breathe." The man held up his hand and gave Quinn a moment to control herself. "Please calm down for a minute. What's happened to you? You look distressed, and it's not because of our little accident."

"I was being mug. But someone saved me. A brick saved me."

"A brick saved you?"

"I'm not crazy."

"Nobody called you crazy." The man saw that Quinn's agitation wouldn't end any time soon. "You live here?" He pointed to the building and Quinn confirmed it. "Great. I want to get into this building too, you know? My sister lives here. Her name is Marley Rose. Do you know her?"

"Marley... yes... she... we live on the same floor."

"Really? That's a great coincidence. My name is Grant Fish. What's yours?"

"Quinn Fabray."

"Good, Miss Fabray. Here's what we can do. You help me pick up these things that have been knocked over and we'll go together to the floor where you and my sister live. What do you think?"

"All right."

Grant picked up the fallen objects and did as he had promised, trying to keep his distance from the young woman. They took the elevator and, when they reached the right floor, Quinn went to the door of her own apartment, still very shaky, while Grant went to Marley and Unique's door. By coincidence, Unique was in Quinn's apartment looking after Beth. The singer and performer was even a little impatient as she had to rush off to work at the nightclub.

"Babe!" Unique immediately got up from the sofa when she saw the state in which Quinn had arrived home, forgetting even the ironic things she had thought of saying because of the delay. "What happened?"

"They tried to mug me, but it's okay. I think I was saved by someone..."

"Really?" Unique went over to the sink and filled her friend a glass of water.

"No need." Quinn didn't even pick up the glass.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. How's Beth?"

"She took a nap just now."

"Okay, that's better. Unique, could we talk later? I'll pay you tomorrow."

"Sure, honey." Unique tried to give her friend a hug goodbye, but Quinn stepped back.

"I'm sorry, I... please, I just need to breathe, okay. I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow."

Unique nodded and left the apartment. Quinn looked at her own hands. They were cold as ice. Not just her hands. The room was cold, as if the apartment had an air conditioner on. However, this apartment didn't have an air conditioner, and it was hot outside.

...

"Finn, are you an idiot or what?"

Kurt criticized his brother as soon as he saw the messages posted on social media.

"I want to put an end to this guy. What he did to Rachel needs to be punished." He said while driving.

"Is calling the guy out for a fight in a social media message going to work?" Kurt rolled his eyes. "You'll end up attracting a bunch of copycat bullies. You'll never face that vigilante, let alone the guy who hurt Rachel."

"Something needs to be done."

"What? You get into it with a vigilante? With the guy who's been beating up thugs day in, day out, according to the local news?"

"That's because the day he's not beating up thugs, he's raping women."

"We don't know, Finn. Anyone can wear a mask to cover their face and claim to be a vigilante."

Kurt patted his brother on the shoulder, trying to be understanding of the despair he felt about his girlfriend's condition. Rachel was still at Leroy's house, and recovering well. She had removed the cast from her arm and would have to undergo some physiotherapy sessions to speed up the healing process. Rachel's physical recovery was going better than expected. The problem lay entirely with the mental part.

Kurt and Finn were on their way to the suburbs, but first they stopped by the State University's campus to pick up Tina. Rachel's best friend had always been Kurt, but Tina could say she was her oldest female friend, since they had met in their first year of high school. Before that, Rachel hadn't bonded with anyone other than Kurt Hummel, her obviously gay neighbor and the only non-adult who knew Broadway musicals and could name five major Broadway actresses.

The visit was negotiated for a while. Rachel was starting to feel like a person again. She was no longer taking painkillers and anti-inflammatories, even though she needed the pill to sleep. Her face was almost unmarked, and the purple spots on her body were also fading. Rachel didn't feel any physical pain, except in her compromised arm. Physically, Rachel Berry was whole. Emotionally, not yet. Rachel knew that isolation would worsen her depression, so she needed to see people again. Allowing Tina to visit might be a good start. Kurt and Finn parked the car near their college friend's dormitory and were surprised to see that none other than Mercedes Jones was accompanying her.

"Tina..." Kurt wanted to fight at the same time as he didn't want to be rude to Mercedes.

"She was very insistent." That's all Tina said as she got into the truck.

"Tina mentioned that she was going to visit Rachel, and I asked to go along." Mercedes explained.

"Mercedes, we don't want journalists pestering Rachel." Finn said bluntly.

"I'm not going as a journalist. This is a peace mission. I mean it. I care about Rachel, okay?"

"Still..." Finn thought he was standing firm.

"Either you take me or I'll be knocking on Rachel's father's door with Santana Lopez!"

"You can get in the car." Kurt sighed. His meeting with Santana at the store days ago had been friendly, but Rachel might have had a negative reaction if she saw the girl she disliked so much. Mercedes was Santana's friend, true, but she had better social skills.

The drive from the university campus to the suburb where Leroy Jameson lived was half an hour when the roads weren't jammed. On that particular day, a small hold-up on the bridge meant that the journey took almost 45 minutes until they reached the upper middle-class neighborhood.

"I used to live in this house." Kurt pointed to a two-story house that didn't look much different from the rest of the neighborhood.

"Doesn't your father live there anymore?" Mercedes asked.

"No, he sold the house and bought an apartment in Elwood. My father said that Carole and he are too old to deal with a huge house. That the apartment is much more practical." Kurt explained.

"And my mother is allergic to pollen."

Mercedes thought it made a certain amount of sense, since Elwood was a neighborhood close to the city center, which was highly urbanized in the same way that it was sparsely wooded. Leroy Jameson's house was on the next street. Finn parked the car and the four of them walked calmly to the door. Answering the door was a flustered Rachel Berry.

"What's she doing here?" Rachel said snidely, referring to Mercedes Jones.

"I brought cookies." Mercedes smiled. "I think they're vegan."

Rachel looked at her boyfriend and her friends, who gestured for her to forgive them. Finally, Rachel sighed and allowed her friends into the house.

"Would you like something to drink? Water? Soda? I'd have a tequila or something stronger, but it's still three o'clock in the afternoon." Rachel said, showing signs of anxiety.

"Can I get it for you?" Tina quickly offered.

"Oh, I'd like a glass of water, Rachel. Thank you." Mercedes said, running over to Tina. "Can you get one for me, please?"

Rachel stared at her for a moment and nodded.

"Rachel, I..." Kurt tried to keep up.

"Guys, the kitchen is just next door. I think I can get the visitor a glass of water."

Kurt was embarrassed, but Rachel saw Mercedes' attitude as refreshing. At least the journalism's student wasn't treating the diva like some poor thing who can't even walk anymore. Rachel was sincerely tired of being forcefully pampered and having everything handed to her as if she were an invalid. She picked up the fresh water and carried it over to Mercedes.

"Thank you!" Mercedes smiled to her. "I don't know where all this heat came from."

"So, it's not just me?" Rachel sat down next to Finn.

"Hardly. The weather is really stuffy. Yesterday I had to take two showers, which says volumes considering that my dorm only has unisex bathrooms, and they're not very clean. There's a disgusting guy on my floor who pisses and wanks in the shower. Anyone who enters the stall he was in immediately afterwards ends up getting dirt."

"That must be awful." Tina looked disgusted. "In my dormitory building, we have men's and women's and unisex's bathrooms. I never use the unisex one for this exact reason: men are disgusting in the bathroom, even gay men."

"Kurt is careful, but Finn is a disaster. If I ever move in with him, it'll have to be in a place with two bathrooms!" Rachel said without much thought, and didn't even notice that the confession took her boyfriend by surprise. His girlfriend was telling anyone who would listen that he, Finn, was a pig.

"I appreciate that we live in our own place, Rach. I'd hate to share places that are supposed to be private with a bunch of people." Kurt shook his head to dismiss the possibility.

"Haven't you ever used the locker room at school or at a gym?" Mercedes questioned.

"I paid my cousin, and he sent me a medical report so that I could be excused from physical education classes." Kurt chuckled remembering the case. He deposited 200 dollars with his cousin, who was a university student at the time, and who could fake this kind of thing. "I like working out, but the kids at school picked on me because I'm gay. I kept getting picked on. That's why I decided not to use the locker room at school anymore. On the other hand, I never had any problems in gyms. That's where I had my first kiss, the one that shouldn't be mentioned."

"Who?" Mercedes was curious.

"Blaine Anderson." Tina and Rachel said at the same time.

"My ex. Gay alpha of our school, popular, gorgeous, annoyingly talented and total pillow princess." Kurt elaborated to Mercedes, followed by laughter from Rachel and Tina.

Finn was perplexed at how this conversation between Kurt and the girls was progressing. He hadn't expected it. Finn left the room, giving the excuse that he was going to have a look at a fault in the truck. By the end, the four of them were talking about everything except Rachel's assault, what had been done to her and the vigilantes. For the first time since it happened, Rachel felt like a normal person. Finn didn't understand it in the same way. He was so obsessed with the vigilante and the assault on Rachel that he couldn't think of anything else.

...

Quinn continued her tiring routine at the coffee shop. Joe, who had a hippie mentality, thought that his pastor father would cover the 10% loss and that they could leave everything exactly as it was. Quinn was much more realistic. Reducing the quantity and maintaining the price was cowardly in her opinion, so she decided to readjust the price of the coffee. When the last customer of that first part of the morning was served and rushed off late for the start of the class, Quinn thought she would have a moment off. That's when she saw a potential and unexpected customer approaching.

"Good morning." Grant pointed to the table of products on offer. "Everything looks good. What do you recommend?"

"For today? In this heat? A peach frappe. It's a house favorite." Joe replied jovially.

"Then I'd like one, please."

Joe received the money and Quinn prepared the drink with an unparalleled agility, acquired from the practice of the job. The drink was handed to the young man, who was elegantly dressed, even in casual clothes. Grant wore a plain T-shirt, made of technological fabric, jeans of a very expensive brand and sneakers that must have cost more than the semester's leave that Quinn and Joe paid for the administration of the community college. He tried the frappe and smiled politely. Grand was a guy who had tried drinks like this in the best coffee shops in the world. If he wanted to be petty, he would have said that the frappe tasted like dirty socks with peach essence and sugar. Because, to his taste buds, it tasted like a drink from a cheap coffee shop that was licensed to operate on the premises of the community college. However, his plans were different.

"Quinn, right? I hope you remember me. I'm Grant Fish, your neighbor Marley's brother. We bumped into each other about... three days ago, right?"

"Yes, I remember you well." Quinn replied seriously.

"Are you better?" Grant asked and Joe was surprised because he didn't know what it was about. Quinn hadn't mentioned the robbery to him.

"Yes, thank you."

"I'm glad… Quinn, I came here because I'd like to make you an offer. Could we talk in private?"

"I'm on the clock."

"I'll cover the cost. Look, I just want to talk to you right there." He pointed to the large door of the building. "Your colleague can keep an eye on us from here, if you feel better."

Quinn was reluctant for a moment to accept Grant's offer, but curiosity spoke louder. She took off her apron and followed Grant out of the building, where it was possible to see the historic building, the parking lot and the large courtyard that the students used to walk between buildings. Grant, as promised, didn't want to walk with Quinn anywhere else. They stood in the courtyard for a minute observing the small number of people there.

"Fabray, I'm a frank person, so I'm not going to beat around the bush. I know you're a special person."

"All people are special." Quinn said almost automatically.

"Not everyone can freeze other people's arms off."

"Look, I went through a stressful situation that day, okay? A guy tried to mug me that night. A mugging for you might just be a big scare. But for me, losing my rent money that was in my purse that day would be a disaster. I can barely make ends meet with the coffee shop and, on top of that, the prices of the suppliers have gone up." Quinn vented her irritation. "So what if my hands were freezing that day?"

Grant nodded at her, and smiled in a way that showed he didn't buy her story. Then he picked up some stones from the ground and tested their weight.

"See that sign over there?" He pointed to a sign that should have been 30 to 40 meters away from them. "Do you want to bet I can hit her with that stone from this exact distance?"

"You took me away from my job so I could watch you throw rocks at signs?"

"Are you betting or not?"

"Okay!"

Grant smiled and threw a stone, which hit the plaque squarely.

"Lucky?" Quinn commented, still unimpressed.

"Want a best of three?"

Grant showed Quinn the stones and threw them one by one at the same plate, always hitting the object in the center of it. Okay, there was something different going on there, but Quinn didn't want to give it away. She considered herself an intelligent and rational person, even if she was also capable of acting on impulse. Quinn didn't say anything to Grant, but she knew exactly where he was coming from, not only because of her conversations with Unique (she and Marley weren't close), but also because she worked as a cleaner at the Fish and May families' law firm. Quinn never crossed paths with Grant during the time she worked there, for some reason, but she knew perfectly well that the Fishes were powerful, and that they represented other equally powerful figures. Quinn knew that Grant was very intelligent, and that he realized the special condition that Quinn tried so hard to hide from people. Now she needed to know what Grant would like to do with this information.

"You know, Quinn." Grant picked up a few more pebbles from the ground and started throwing them at the same board without missing while talking. "Some people develop extraordinary abilities. You don't know exactly why. A prodigy pianist, a revolutionary physicist. From time to time certain geniuses appear in various fields. Socrates, Pythagoras, Newton, Marie Curie, Einstein, Mozart... all great minds. But there are some people who are extraordinary in other skills that don't necessarily have to do with their brains. We used to call these people genius athletes. But in our generation now... something has changed. There are people who are being born with abilities that go beyond a big brain or exceptional athletic abilities."

"What do you mean?"

Grant stopped throwing pebbles at the board and smiled at Quinn.

"I was a pretty ordinary kid until I hit puberty. Boys tend to be awkward between the ages of 12 and 13, but in my case, I was just great. I got good at sports, started winning judo championships with ease, and even played football for a while as a quarterback. My school won the state championship undefeated for three years in a row. I threw the ball perfectly and wasn't hit by my opponents. Three years of playing football without any serious injuries, without any broken bones. That wasn't because I trained harder than the others. It came naturally to me."

"Are you trying to tell me that you threw that brick at the robber's head with your extraordinary ability to throw things at a target?"

"I'm glad you connected the dots." Grant smiled.

"If you've come here for a thank you, thanks Fish."

"I don't want your thanks."

"Why are you telling me this? What do you want?"

"Quinn, I received scholarships to study at the best universities. I turned them all down, which drove my father crazy. He had the money to pay for my studies without any problems, but a scholarship due to my high sports performance would save him a few thousand dollars. Do you want to know why I left my brilliant athletics career at the end of high school?"

"Why?" Quinn asked so that Grant could continue his game.

"Because I realized I was cheating when I met an extraordinary guy who, like me, developed powers from puberty onwards, but unlike me, this guy came to have the ability to restore body tissue. If you had a cut on your hands, for example, he could heal it with an energy projection that came out of their hands. I realized that the precision of my movements didn't match that of an ordinary human being. That's why I also know that your icy hand freezing my arm is not a stress reaction."

Quinn still didn't know what to think about the whole thing. She wasn't stupid and she understood perfectly what Grant wanted from her at that moment. He wanted her to be aware that the secret she had worked so hard to hide had been deciphered. The question was: what did he want from her in the short/medium term? What was his agenda? Did Grant intend to hurt her, or worse, Beth?

"Look Fish..."

"Please call me Grant."

"Okay, Grant. I know you must be a nice guy. I appreciate you getting me out of that mugging with your precise aim. But I need to work. I've got too many problems, I've got a young daughter to look after and I can't just sit here."

"I didn't expect you to open up on the first date." Grant smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a business card. Then he took out a pen and wrote down a phone number. "I can help you, Quinn. I can help you deal with the power you have. If you're interested, give me a call."

Quinn watched Grant drive away. He went to the parking lot and got into a Porsche. He drove off quietly, as if he were a normal person despite the luxury car. Quinn kept the card with the phone number on it and went back to the cafeteria. Joe was curious and perhaps a little jealous to see a rich, handsome man looking for Quinn. Not that this was unlikely, after all, Quinn was the most beautiful woman he knew.

"What did he want?" Joe didn't want to be direct, but it was the result of jealousy and curiosity.

"He came here to ask me a favor about his sister, who is my neighbor. That's all."