Sokovia?
Wait. Wasn't that the homeland of Wanda and Pietro Maximoff—Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver?
*Hiss!*
Locke sucked in a breath of cold air.
Speaking of which... Callum Lynch had left New York last year, saying he was going back to his hometown to bring his son and daughter over. Jesus Christ, it couldn't be that a casual remark had actually summoned the Maximoff twins, could it?
Something was off, though. He hadn't heard that Callum Lynch was back in town. If he were, the man would surely have contacted the "Peerless Assassin."
Locke looked at Gwen. "What are their names?"
Gwen, who was chatting with Jessica, blinked. "What?"
"The transfer students' names."
"The one from Texas? He's not from the same town as you, why would you know him?"
"No, the ones from Sokovia."
"I don't know." Gwen shook her head. "The materials the teacher gave me only noted they were coming from Sokovia. Their specific files haven't been transferred from their old school yet. The teacher isn't even sure if they'll show up today, but the enrollment is confirmed."
Locke nodded. It probably wasn't that big of a coincidence. Sokovia wasn't just Wanda and Pietro; there were other people there.
"What about the one from Texas?"
"Carrie!"
"Cough, cough!"
Locke, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, nearly choked upon hearing the name. He blinked at Gwen. "Carrie?"
Gwen smiled. "Not that Carrie from Maine—it's a girl from Texas named Carrie Chester. I've seen her photo; she's very beautiful."
Locke: "..."
There were probably five thousand girls named "Carrie" in the country. Since she looked completely different now, Gwen naturally wouldn't associate a "Carrie from Texas" with the "Carrie from Maine."
But... this Carrie from Texas was the Carrie from Maine.
Locke had considered bringing Carrie to Midtown High, but when her surgery was finished, the transfer window had already closed. Or so he thought.
At that moment, the classroom fell silent. The teacher walked in and looked at the students. "Everyone, we have a new classmate joining us today. Come in."
Outside the door, Carrie Chester—her head held high, her appearance completely transformed—walked in and stood at the front of the room.
"Please introduce yourself."
"Carrie Chester."
Gwen watched from her seat. The new girl had a cold, elegant look, jet-black hair, and a striking purple bracelet on her wrist. She glanced at Locke's expression. "Carrie Chester is from Dallas. I remember you're from Galveston... why do you look like you know her?"
Locke looked at Gwen. "Don't you recognize the name?"
Gwen blinked.
Locke whispered, "Clinton Chester?"
"Mr. Chester?"
"Yeah." Locke lowered his voice. "Carrie is Chester's daughter."
He couldn't hide this forever, and he didn't want to. He wanted Carrie to have a new life, not one spent hiding in the shadows.
'Dammit, Chester!' Gwen's mouth hung open. She knew who Chester was—Locke's cowboy mentor. But she thought he only had one daughter. She'd never made the connection.
"What happened?"
"His younger daughter," Locke whispered. "It's complicated. I'll explain later."
At the front of the room, Carrie noticed Locke. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.
Gwen blinked. Kim, sitting in front of her, turned around and whispered, "Gwen, I bet they're childhood sweethearts. Your position is in danger."
Gwen: "..."
Locke: "..."
'Childhood sweethearts? I'm a 'Roman,' damn it!'
Soon, Carrie finished her introduction and took a seat to Locke's left.
...
After class, Locke headed to the hallway, opened his locker, and immediately dialed Chester's number.
"Hello?"
"What the hell, Chester!" Locke kept his voice low but fierce. "Seriously? How did you get Carrie into Midtown High?"
On the other end of the line, Chester—who had just extracted himself from the company of three models—sat on the edge of his bed and lit a cigarette. "Midtown High has high standards and it's close to home. You know my stance on education: 'Happy education' only breeds pigs."
Locke's face was expressionless. "Trinity is closer to your house. You wouldn't even have to drive; it's a ten-minute walk."
"Trinity doesn't accept mid-term transfers. What's the matter? Don't tell me you don't want my daughter at your school?"
"You know that's not what I mean." Locke's brow throbbed. "Old man, why didn't you tell me?"
Chester laughed. "When you found my 'daughter,' did you tell me beforehand? When you brought her back, did you give me a heads-up?"
Locke shrugged. "That was a surprise."
"Exactly," Chester chuckled. "This is my surprise for you. How is it? Surprised?"
Locke: "..."
'This isn't a surprise; it's a vendetta.'
A few days ago, when Locke brought Carrie to meet Chester, he had "accidentally" timed it so Chester's eldest daughter was home. Locke had walked in and said, "Hey old man, I brought your daughter back from the airport." Chester's eldest daughter had nearly had a breakdown, looking at her father like he was a complete scumbag. Locke had promptly vanished, leaving Chester to deal with the fallout.
"That was an accident," Locke coughed, then added solemnly, "Old man, we shouldn't hurt each other. I'm only seventeen—a cute, innocent child. You should forgive me."
Chester let out a sarcastic laugh. 'Accident? You're my student. I know exactly what kind of person you are.'
"Do you swear?"
"What?"
"That it was an accident?"
"Of course. I swear by God—"
"Swear by the person you care about most. Whenever you swear by God, I know you're lying through your teeth."
"..."
*Whatever happened to basic human trust?* Locke wanted to argue, but Gwen's voice drifted over from nearby.
Locke hung up and turned around just as Gwen and the newly enrolled Carrie approached.
"I just took Carrie to get her locker key," Gwen said. "By the way, why didn't you tell me you were the one who picked her up from the airport?"
Locke shrugged. "That was a few days ago. I thought the transfer window was closed. I didn't expect Chester to find a way to get her in."
'Chester must have spent a fortune to pull this off just to spite me,' Locke thought. He looked at Carrie. "Did you pick your classes?"
Carrie nodded with a small smile. "Gwen took me to see Mrs. Codd. It's all set."
"What's your next class?"
"English."
"Gwen and I have History."
"I know." Carrie put her bag in her locker and glanced at Gwen before turning to Locke. "I'll head out first. See you at lunch?"
"Yeah, see you then."
Carrie picked up her books and walked away. As Locke had said, this was her new life, and she wanted to experience the world in a different way.
Gwen, clutching her history book and notebook, watched Carrie leave. "You know, Carrie gives me a vibe that's... unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar at the same time."
Locke smiled. "You've met Chester. It's normal for her to feel familiar."
He wasn't worried about Gwen figuring out the truth. The appearance and temperament were completely different. Still, Gwen's "Locke-radar" seemed to be evolving; he'd have to be careful.
Gwen nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, then shook her head with a laugh. "Still, it's hard to imagine her as Mr. Chester's daughter."
"Why?" Locke asked as they walked toward their history class.
"I don't know," Gwen said. "Carrie feels cold and elegant. Mr. Chester, with that big beard and rugged vibe... they just don't seem related."
Locke laughed.
"What?" Gwen asked.
"It's a good thing she doesn't look like him, or that would be a tragedy. I've seen a photo of Carrie's mother; she was a beauty."
"Really?"
"Girls usually take after their mothers," Locke said smoothly. "If you don't believe me, just wait until our daughter is born. You'll see who she looks like."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "My daughter will definitely look like me." She stopped and gave Locke a meaningful look. "You really want a daughter?"
Locke grinned. "Who doesn't?"
Daughters were great. They were cute, had sweet voices, and most importantly, you could buy them endless cute outfits and accessories. You could change their look every hour until they were eighteen and never repeat a style.
Boys? One suit and you're done. While a suit is a man's second skin, raising a boy just didn't offer the same level of "character customization" joy.