Last Night
On the penthouse floor of a luxury apartment, a man and woman in their late forties sat at the dining table. The man held a coffee cup in one hand and a newspaper in the other. Outside, a full moon hung in the sky, glowing like a brilliant lamp.
"Honey, there is something I need you to handle," the woman said.
"What is it?" the man asked without looking up.
"Our children were bullied by some students. Now they've been suspended for a week. Olivia hasn't eaten since it happened—she's locked herself in her room," she lied smoothly.
The man finally looked up. "Darling, I already received a call from the school."
The woman's expression soured.
"You don't know the whole story," the man said calmly.
"No, I know enough. Our children were targeted for no reason."
"The fault lies entirely with our children, Martha," Mr. Wyatt said.
"How can you say such a thing?" she snapped. "Is that why you refused to go along with my request to have the other students expelled?"
"If our children were in the right and were being bullied, I would turn the world upside down to punish those responsible," he replied. "But this time, our children were the aggressors."
"We are their parents! It is our job to stand by them!" She said.
"You're right," Mr. Wyatt said, his voice dropping an octave. "It is our job to stand by them. But it is also our duty to educate them when they are wrong. That is the real responsibility of a parent."
"They are our flesh and blood!" she cried, her voice rising. "How can you sit there while they're being targeted by other kids?"
The man remained unnervingly calm. "And what about the other parents? Their children were targeted by ours. They are human too. You're angry now, but imagine how they felt every time they saw their child come home traumatized, unable to do anything because we are powerful and they are middle class."
"I don't care about them," she hissed. "I just want my children to be happy."
"Other parents want that too. Think of what they went through, watching their children hide their trauma because they were afraid people like us would destroy their families."
"Why are you taking their side?" she shrieked.
"I am taking the side of what is right. If my children are in the wrong, I will see them disciplined. I've already made my decision."
The woman stood up abruptly and marched to their bedroom. She slammed the door and dialed a number.
"Hello?" a voice answered.
"Mr. Jacob? This is Mrs. Wyatt. I need you to... take care of some people."
Present
Ethan and Daisy stood huddled together, surrounded by a group of men in masks and uniforms.
"Daisy, stand behind me," Ethan commanded.
"Brother—" she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Don't worry, Daisy. They won't touch you as long as I'm breathing."
The men drew pocket knives, the steel glinting in the light.
I guess I have no choice but to fight, Ethan thought. I didn't want to scare Daisy, but there's no way around it now.
"Who are you guys?" a female voice rang out from behind the circle of men.
One of the thugs turned around just in time to take a boot to the face. The impact shattered his teeth, sending him crashing to the pavement, unconscious. Allen landed gracefully on the ground. Madison had arrived right beside him.
"Madison!" Daisy called hope in her voice.
"Hi, Daisy," Madison said with a casual wave. She gestured toward Allen.
Allen didn't wait. He rushed the remaining men. As they pivoted to face the new threat, Daisy hurried toward Madison, with Ethan following closely. Daisy threw her arms around Madison. "Thanks for saving us!"
"Thank you," Ethan added, though his eyes remained fixed on the fight.
"Should we help him?" Daisy asked, watching Allen dance through the fray.
"No," Madison said, nodding confidently. "He's a trained fighter. This is just a warmup for him."
Ethan watched Allen closely. The man was fast, sharp, and decisive. He dodged multiple knife thrusts simultaneously, finding tiny openings to land devastating counters. Every man he hit stayed down.
His real power is in his strikes, Ethan noted. Interesting. I haven't seen anyone move like that since... him.
Within a minute, the thugs were all groaning on the ground.
"Let's get to school," Madison said.
As they reached the campus, the hallways were buzzing with rumors.
"Did you hear? A group of thugs attacked Mr. Henry on his way to school this morning," one student whispered.
"But Mr. Henry is fine, he's in his office. Maybe they got the wrong guy?"
Madison and Daisy exchanged a look.
"So, even Mr. Henry was targeted," Madison muttered. "Everyone involved in yesterday's incident was attacked. But why you, Ethan? You weren't even there."
"We were attacked too," Allen added grimly.
Ethan thought about the mysterious letter he had received. Who sent it? And why?
They reached the junction in the hallway. Daisy headed to her locker, and Ethan quickened his pace toward class, with Madison and Allen trailing slightly behind.
"He was about to fight back there," Allen whispered to Madison.
"Really? You could tell?"
"Yes," Allen replied. "He was dropping into a stance right before you called out. He wasn't scared; he was ready."
Madison narrowed her eyes at Ethan's back. "Can we even be sure he's really her brother? I ran a check on his old school and his previous addresses. They don't exist. They're 'ghost locations'—they show up on a map to fool investigators, but in the real world, there's nothing there."