Weiss's scroll vibrated. With a groan, she leaned over and picked it up—another email from Ruby Rose. Without reading it, she set the device back down beside her untouched bowl of soup. The ice pack on her forehead was melting.

Her television was on with the volume low. On the screen, a group of animated characters wielding fantastical weapons were battling a massive bird. The black-feathered creature had red eyes glowing through a bone mask—a Nevermore. None of the warriors had semblances. No one in this fictional world did.

That was one of the reasons the show had first appealed to her, so long ago. The real world was full of people who'll shun and fear you for being born a paragon, as well as the types of paragons like the White Flame who do nothing but reinforce that paranoia. Warriors of Grimm depicted a setting without any of that, while still managing to shine a light on those issues through clever allegories. It was a world without paragons, but it wasn't better for it. Even as a child, when all she'd wanted was an escape from her father's unfair criticisms and her mother's drunken stupors, she'd been able to see and appreciate the messaging.

Weiss wasn't up for appreciating anything at the moment, though. The warriors battled on and she barely paid them any attention. Her notebook laid open on her stomach, unable to steal her focus away from the misery she was in. The list of Grimm she knew from the show only had one addition marking down what she'd learned about psychopathy. Everything else, despite her best efforts, remained unchanged. No new revelations, connections, or insights.

Once, she'd thought these fabrications her semblance showed her were arbitrary, as meaningless as dreams. But as she'd gained more experience, she came to understand that there were rules and consistency to it. It operated logically, on patterns. Being a warrior of Grimm was a direct lens through which her brain interpreted the complex and inscrutable ways her semblance altered a person's brain chemistry.

Unfortunately, the line between fantasy and reality was rarely straightforward. The Emerald Forest is a person's mind. The Grimm are their disorders. The very real pain Weiss had felt when the Beowolf mauled her, however? The fever she was left with ever since it had "killed" her? Consistent, but not as easy to explain. It was those small nuances that built the giant wall she had to climb to truly understand her semblance—to master it. This thing with the windows and Forever Fall had knocked her back down to the bottom of it, but nothing would stop her from finding a new foothold and trying again, as frustrating as the process almost always was—she couldn't afford to not reach the top.

The episode ended, and a different show began to play. Weiss picked up the remote and began flicking through what channels she had available to her. She paused briefly on the news—another bank robbery in the night—but nothing caught her interest. Maybe she could consider getting a streaming service subscription now that she had this prisoner contract with the city.

Weiss turned the TV off and forced herself to sit up. The ice pack fell into her lap, warm to the touch. With a great effort, she stood and trudged over to the kitchen to replace it. She returned with a fresh one and sank back into the couch. She stared at the soup she had no appetite for, then at her scroll with the unread email she already knew the contents of.

Closing her eyes and savoring the ice pack's soothing chill, she tried to think about anything else. She failed. The email's sender came to mind, then the portrait leaning against a gravestone, and another image—an image from the memory that had put her in this state. The blood. The bullet wound. The vacant, silver eyes. If there'd been any hope her food wouldn't go to waste, it was gone now.

As she contemplated whether she'd have a better chance falling asleep if she made the insurmountable journey to her bedroom, her scroll vibrated again. And it kept vibrating. She looked over and saw that an unknown number was calling her.

"Hello?" she answered with as much professionalism in her voice as she could muster.

"Hello. Am I speaking with Weiss Schnee?" a woman spoke from the other end.

"You are."

"Hi. I'm calling from the Eastern Vale Correctional Facility. I have it here that you're scheduled to come in next Monday. Is that correct?"

"That's correct."

"I'm afraid I have to inform you that we're going to be postponing that appointment indefinitely."

"Oh. I— Did you say indefinitely?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, we had an unexpected security breach, and someone died. With an investigation underway, the warden has restricted all visitation, which includes you. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience."

Weiss swallowed. "Someone died? May I ask whom?"

"Um . . . I'm sorry, I'm not sure whether I'm allowed to disclose that. Please give me one second."

Weiss waited, her heart rate picking up for reasons unrelated to her illness. The silence stretched on for all too long and not long enough. She had a sinking feeling she knew what the woman was going to say, and she didn't want to hear it.

"Miss Schnee?"

"I'm still here."

"Yes. The victim was one of the inmates you were set to treat."

Redundant as the question was, Weiss asked, "Which one?"

"Bole Maze."

She'd looked it up, after she'd seen his memory. How could she not? There were several news reports online regarding the murder of Summer Rose. The oldest were from around two years ago, and the newest still labeled the case as unsolved. She was never told what crimes her patients were incarcerated for, and the internet had no information on Bole Maze that she could find. Whatever he'd done to land himself in prison had nothing to do with what Weiss had seen, and now he was no longer alive to tell anyone about it.

She'd thought she had time. It was a two-year-old case. What difference could a few days make? She'd intended on going to the authorities after she was back on her feet. How could she have known something like this would happen?

Well, she had certainly had plenty of time now. You couldn't miss a deadline that had already passed.

With the call ended, Weiss still had her scroll in hand. She stared at the little envelope at the top of the screen, notifying her of the email she'd ignored. She pulled it up to see yet another apology from Ruby about their appointment, as well as another offer to pay Weiss for the job she didn't do.

Maybe it was empathy. Maybe it was selfishness, another excuse to put the CAB off just a little while longer. Maybe it was something else she didn't understand. Whatever it was, it made Weiss decide that there was someone who deserved to know before anyone else.

She tapped 'reply'.

Feeling much better in body, less so in mind, Weiss knocked on an apartment door. A silver-eyed girl answered.

"Hi!" Ruby greeted with even more energy than the last time they'd met.

"Hello," said Weiss. "May I come in?"

"Of course!" She stepped aside and gave a welcoming gesture.

The apartment looked no different from the last time she was here, though there was a hoodie and backpack tossed onto the armchair. The TV was off, and some papers were sprawled across the coffee table—they looked to be designs and technical drawings of some sort.

"Coffee?" Ruby closed the door and was already on her way to the kitchen.

"No, thank you," said Weiss.

Ruby joined her in the living room half a minute later with a glass of milk and sat beside Weiss, looking inexplicably excited.

Weiss, unable to maintain eye contact, moved a few inches away from her. "As I said in my email, there was something I needed to discuss with you."

"You've figured out how to help me with my insomnia," Ruby said, not a trace of doubt in her voice.

"Your—? No. You don't have insomnia. This has nothing to do with that."

"What?" Ruby's smile faltered. "But I thought—"

"I've told you before, I can't cure a semblance," Weiss said. "I'm sorry. I'm not here to argue with you about."

"Oh." Her face fell.

Weiss bit her tongue, finding it difficult to get the words out now that she was here. She'd already brought the mood down and was about to bring it down even more.

"Then why did you ask to meet me?" Ruby asked.

Weiss took a deep breath, let it out, and said, "I've learned something about the death of your mother."

Ruby blinked, struggling to process what she'd just heard. "Huh?"

"Some time ago, shortly before our first meeting, my semblance developed the ability to see people's memories. I've been avoiding using it as best I could, but . . . last week, by mistake, I saw something I shouldn't have."

"About my mom?" Ruby said. "Wha— How do you even—?"

"I saw her gravestone in your mind. Also by mistake. I would never intentionally invade your privacy, and I honestly did do my best to help you. But what I saw was during a job I have with the city curing convicted criminals, and one of them was there when your mother was murdered. I saw the memory, and I saw the woman who fired the gun."

"You . . . you saw who did it?" There was a spark in her eye, that of hope clashing with the belief that something was too good to be true.

"No," Weiss said hastily. "It was dark, and I only caught a glimpse of her back. But I know the name of the prisoner who was involved. Bole Maze. That's a lead."

"That's a lead," Ruby repeated, still quiet.

"I thought you should be the first to know. I also wanted to apologize for being a bit curt with how our last meeting ended, and for unintentionally invading your privacy."

"This was last week? But this is huge! Why are you only saying anything now?"

"I've been under the weather," Weiss said, a half-truth. "I'm going to the CAB office today to report my semblance's evolution, then I'll report what I saw to the police."

"You don't sound too thrilled about that."

Weiss hesitated. "How willing would you have been to go through with the process of me trying to heal you if you knew it meant I'd have access to all your private memories?"

"I'd still want you to try."

"Really?"

"Duh. Just because you can, doesn't mean you would, right?"

Weiss stared at her, perplexed. "You don't know me. Aren't you the least bit suspicious I'd act with ill-intent?"

For a brief moment, a shadow seemed to pass over Ruby's face. "My mom always knew how to see the best in people—even those that don't deserve it. If I can't aspire to be like her, then what's the point?"

Weiss looked away from her. "Well . . . not everyone's that trusting. Not everyone's that desperate, or has as little to hide. Everyone knowing what I can do will make it a lot harder for me to keep this as my career. It's difficult enough as is."

"But that's crazy! There are so many people that could use your help. All those people with dementia or depression or—"

"You're being naive. You don't understand what it's like to be a paragon, Ruby. Not really. Your semblance isn't something a stranger would ever find out about. So you haven't experienced the kind of hatred they can have for us. People would rather keep their phobias and disabilities than be touched by a 'lusus naturae'."

Ruby let out a small gasp. "Have you actually been called that?"

"Several times. And this new ability is just something else to scream 'don't hire me'."

Weiss could feel those silver eyes staring at her sympathetically, which seemed backwards. She'd come here to talk about the murder of Ruby's mother, after all.

"Well, what if they didn't know?" said Ruby.

"What are you getting at?"

"What if you just didn't tell people? Keep it secret and don't use it, you know?"

"That's not possible. As soon as I tell the CAB—"

"Then don't tell them."

"I have to! Don't you understand? I can't give this information to the police without telling them how I came across it."

"That's what I'm saying! Don't go to the police."

Seconds of silence followed as Weiss tried to figure out whether she'd misheard. "What?"

"I can follow the lead. I'll investigate it on my own—without the police."

Weiss studied her, trying to find some small crack to reveal whatever weird joke she was trying to pull off. "You will investigate this."

"Yes."

"You?"

"Yes!"

"Are you qualified to do that, somehow?"

"What's there to be qualified for? Ask questions, find answers. It's not rocket science."

No cracks. This wasn't a joke.

"Ruby," Weiss said. "This isn't a game. There is a murderer out there. What do you plan on doing if you find her? You could die!"

"Well I'm not going to confront her, obviously! If I can get a name, then I'll go to the cops."

"And you think that you can do a better job than them?"

"I have to try."

"Why?"

"I just have to."

"That doesn't—"

"Because I need this." The mask that had her pain began to fall away, and tears appeared in the corner of her eyes.

"Ruby—"

Ruby slapped her knees and shot to her feet, rounding on Weiss. "Someone killed my mom! And I don't know why! She was my favorite person. And they murdered her. And they've been out there, free, for all this time. I just . . . I have to know. I have to find out why."

Weiss understood. She felt her desperation and she knew that desire—the need to do something, anything at all. If Weiss didn't have the semblance she did—if she didn't have the staunch belief that if she cured enough people and learned enough that she could succeed where she'd failed in the past—then she'd know the same hopelessness she saw in the girl standing before her. Weiss recognized the drive she'd accidentally given Ruby, because it was the same one she felt every time she pictured her own mother's face—a hollow, expressionless face with nothing but a shattered mind behind it.

Weiss knew first hand that inactivity was the worst thing in the world when it came to the ones you love. But still. Vale had dozens of precincts full of professional detectives far more capable of achieving anything with this information. To keep it from them to privately investigate it without any sort of experience would be insane. And childish. And, with Weiss's motivations, selfish.

"Ruby," Weiss said with her best attempt at a consoling tone. "You didn't see what I saw. You don't understand the full scope of the situation."

"Then explain it to me," Ruby pleaded.

"This isn't some random killer. This was a woman with power and followers. She has reach. Your mother was a police officer, wasn't she?"

"Yeah. A detective. The best."

"Whatever your mother was investigating, this woman learned of it. She said, 'she can't do any harm to us now.' And several days ago, someone broke into the prison Bole Maze was being held in and killed him. I don't think that's a coincidence. What do you think will happen to you if you get in over your head—if they find out that you've learned too much? They're not going to just let you go."

Ruby sat back down and pulled her knees to her chest. She sat in silence for a while, thinking over Weiss's words until, finally, she said, "I have to try."

Weiss opened her mouth to give an exasperated response, but Ruby didn't give her the chance.

"I have to try! Don't you get it? This is even more reason to do this quietly, without getting the cops involved. If the police get this lead and start investigating it, how long before she finds out? Any chance of catching her by surprise and arresting her will be gone."

"So . . . what? You'll arrest her yourself?"

"That's not what I'm saying. If I can find out who she is, then I'll tell the cops. I just mean that the longer this investigation remains off the books, the easier it'll be to stop her."

Weiss saw the logic and couldn't entirely refute it, but she wasn't about to condone it, either. "But you'd be the one shouldering all the risk. If you ask one wrong question, put one toe out of line, you'd be putting yourself directly into their line of sight. And you probably wouldn't even know until they've already killed you."

"I'm not stupid. I can be careful, and I can take care of myself. I won't try anything dangerous. And if I can't learn anything, then I'll let the cops take over. Okay?"

"Where would you even start?" Weiss said.

"Bole Maze," Ruby answered readily. "You said he was a prisoner. Finding out what he was arrested for would be the first clue. If I can figure out his past, maybe I can find out who he worked for."

Ruby's expression was determined and defiant, and beneath that was desperation and ignorance. But hidden even deeper, there was something more. Her plan was idiotic and misguided, but there was some genuine courage in there. And Weiss almost found herself believing in her, trusting that she could pull it off.

Almost.

There was a chance Ruby would find what she was after, and there was a greater chance she'd get herself killed. The only thing that seemed a certainty was that there'd be no stopping her—no talking her out of this. The smart thing for Weiss to do here was to go against Ruby's wishes. She should stick to her original plan. She should go to the police and tell them what she learned, and also what Ruby was going to do. It wouldn't get Ruby in trouble, as there was nothing inherently illegal about what she was planning, and it would be for her own good.

But it might hurt her. Was that really the only downside to acting with common sense—hurting the feelings of this strange girl she'd just met and had no reason to ever see again?

"Fine," Weiss said.

"Fine?" Ruby repeated. "As in, you're not going to tell the cops?"

"Fine, as in you're not going to be doing this alone. I'm going to help you."

Ruby stared at Weiss, confused and possibly waiting for Weiss's sudden exclamation that she was joking. Weiss had never been very good at telling jokes.

"Why?" Ruby eventually said.

Weiss couldn't explain it. Perhaps it was guilt for the fact that had she acted sooner, Bole Maze might have been able to provide more information before his death. Maybe it was the fear of permanently losing her own mother that made her sympathetic enough to want to help get justice for Ruby's. Whatever the case, Ruby's mind was made up and she'd need help—from herself more than anything.

"Because," Weiss said, "I've failed to talk to you into a more reasonable course of action, and someone is going to have to keep you out of trouble."

Ruby continued to stare. Then, a smile slowly crept onto her lips.

"But let me make one thing clear," said Weiss. "As soon as we hit a dead-end or run into any kind of danger, we're going straight to the— Get off me!"

Ruby had thrown herself at Weiss and embraced her in a hug, which came full force with a strong waft of her rosy perfume. Weiss pushed her away, but Ruby was still grinning.

"You're the best witch doctor ever!" she said happily.

Weiss sighed, already regretting her decision.

A/N: Credit to my beta readers: Bardothren, I Write Big, and 0neWhoWanders. They're great writers who are a huge help with making this story as good as it can be.