When Cadence entered the interrogation room, the boy with the scarred face gasped and rose to a stand. The boy’s hands were cuffed behind him, and the chains jangled as he came around the table.

“Marzia, what are you doing here?!”

That was the name of the face Cadence currently wore. Marzia Belle, a fourteen-year-old orphan who did odd jobs around the city. Small and slender with curly chestnut hair and gap teeth, she was often seen in alleyways alongside Duccio Carrego—a boy easily identifiable by a scar that ran diagonally across his face.

“D-Duccio,” Cadence stammered as she ran to him. “Are you hurt?”

Duccio looked away with a grimace. “I’m fine. But you—why are you here?”

Cadence lowered her gaze and glanced nervously towards the mirror behind her. “I’m here for the same reason you are…” She met the boy’s gaze again. “I… think they know about it, Duccio.” A couple of blinks then tears leaked from her eyes. “What do we do if they know?”

“Know?” Duccio repeated with a frown. His eyes then widened. “You don’t mean that they know about… damn!”

Hook. Line. Sinker. 

“Will the others be okay?” Cadence whispered.

Duccio’s eyes widened and he stared bullets at the mirror. He closed the distance between them and whispered under his breath, “We need to warn them somehow…”

Cadence didn’t respond and instead pressed her body against Duccio’s.

“It’ll be okay, Marzia,” Duccio murmured, pressing his chin gently on top of her head. “We’ll get them out of the warehouse somehow.”

The warehouse. By the docks at the bay? No. The Foxmans owned nearly all the docks there. Then…

“Maybe we could get them to move…” Cadence whispered, glancing nervously over her shoulders. “Trick them by moving to a different warehouse nearby. They won’t expect it.”

Duccio frowned and glanced down at her. “We can’t. Thirteen is the only one that’s not owned by any of the city officials.”

A warehouse given the number thirteen. An abandoned warehouse. There was only one warehouse that fell under both of those categories.

Bingo.

Cadence pulled away from Duccio with a grin. He frowned in turn.

It was time for a showy revelation.

 Sometimes it’s better to live on in ignorance.  

Cadence’s head spun as the familiar, gentle voice echoed in her ears. She whipped her head around. Her reflection—rather, Marzia’s reflection—in the two-way mirror met her gaze.

“Marzia…?”

Cadence ignored Duccio and instead tried to focus her vision, which was dimming and brightening in a dizzyingly repetitive cycle. A shadow flickered in the corner of her eye just behind her reflection in the mirror. It was the woman from before. Atienna.

They made eye contact through the mirror. Atienna’s lips were faintly upturned but her eyes were dark and faraway.

Cadence could feel it. Feel her judgment. Which was a strange sensation because it felt as if she herself was expressing that judgment toward herself . It felt so raw and real that she could feel it pressing down on her chest.

Was this maybe real, maybe hallucinatory woman judging her? Like Nico had…?

Cadence had to know. Had to ask. But if she did now, she’d look crazy. And she had to keep up appearances, after all. Because appearances were…

Atienna abruptly broke off their eye contact and looked away as she drew her arms around her waist. She said nothing but her smile remained as did her dark, far-away expression.

Even if Atienna was judging her, Cadence thought, what did she care? She’d been judged for doing worse things by people who she knew for certain were real. So why now…?

The pressure on her chest increased tenfold, almost leaving her short of breath. It was suffocating. Like smoke. Curling around her and strangling her.

“It’s all right, Duccio,” Cadence found herself saying as she turned to the boy. She pulled his head toward her shoulder and stroked his hair. “We’ll make it out of here somehow.”

* * *

When Cadence exited the interrogation room and entered back into the observation room, she was met with stares from Francis and Verga. Unfortunate, seeing as how she’d just managed to escape Atienna’s gaze. Closing the door behind her, Cadence took her original form with a snap of her fingers and a flash of light.

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost or something for a second there,” Francis noted, v-cig hanging forgotten between his fingers. “Surprised you didn’t do your usual dramatic reveal.”

“That wouldn’t be too smart now, would it?” Cadence shrugged it off easily. “He could be lying. Can’t put all our cards onto the table.”

A clapping sound cut their conversation in two. Verga was grinning. “Well, you really are something else, Cadence. Your performance really does live up to the rumors.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Cadence waved him off before placing her hands on her hips. “We’re lucky he didn’t notice anything off. Any expert would’ve. Not enough info and too short notice.”

“Take a damn compliment, Morello,” Verga snapped before grinning again. “Anyways, since you worked so hard already, just leave the rest to me. I’ll send some of our men to handle that warehouse situation. To dispose of the trash, if y’know what I mean.”

The pressure on her chest returned, and Cadence frowned. “That’s a little bit trigger happy, don’t ya think?”

Verga raised a brow.

The pressure on Cadence’s chest increased. “We still don’t know why the children are doing this.” The words felt strange in her mouth, but she continued nonetheless with a shrug, “And then there’s how they managed ta make a mess of the pub in the first place. Pretty sure the kid in there ain’t masterful enough to pull it off himself, and if he was, that’d be pretty embarassin’ for all of us. Someone’s pullin’ the strings.”

Verga looked like he was about to burst a vein, but Francis interrupted him with a hum. “I agree. Warehouse 13….” He tapped his fingers over his mouth. “The Campana family might be involved in this then. If that is the case, Cadence, how do you suggest we go about answering those questions?”

“I’ll go in as Duccio.” Cadence shrugged again, and the pressure lessened.

* * *

Warehouse 13 resided on the very outskirts of the east side of the Twin Cities. It belonged to a cluster of fifteen warehouses that lined the Castor River. Despite its location, it did not see many ships because right across the river were the warehouses of the west side. Warehouses that belonged to the Campana family. At best, they were friendly rivals with the Romano Family. At worst, they were bitter enemies. Fear of the fallout of friendly rivalry kept even the most desperate investors away from the area.

“And yet I’m here.” Cadence sighed.

Despite the cold, she couldn’t see her breath—the fog over the area was too thick and heavy. Like smoke . The haze of it obscured the sun, which wasn’t even able to reach the top of the warehouses despite the lack of skyscrapers within the vicinity.

Warehouses 13 was built at the very end of the long line of wooden, rickety warehouses. A large steel-plated sign that designated its number hung above its doors which were rotting off their hinges. Through the cracks in the wood, she could make out shadows shifting in a backdrop of light.

Shrugging herself more into the guise of Duccio Carrego, Cadence stepped into the building. The inside was unexpectedly warm. Several trash fires dotted the floor casting stray stacks of metal and wood in a red-orange glow. There was a wooden boat missing half of its hull at the very center of the room.

About two dozen people occupied the building, and when Cadence entered, several of them turned towards her. Some nodded, some waved and smiled, one even came over to smack her on the back before dashing off again. Another came to clap a hand on her shoulder and gave her a shake, saying, “What’s wrong, Duccio? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Cadence stared into that person’s face. His wide eyes and chubby cheeks burned into her retinas. Child. He was a child. Probably no older than twelve. In fact—

Children. All of the occupants within the building were children. None of them could have been older than sixteen. Were they all being used?

Cadence shrugged her shoulders with nonchalance. “Just waitin’ for the boss.”

The boy gave a returning shrug before thumbing behind him towards the boat. “Heard she was preparin’ a big speech this time ‘round.”

‘She’?

Cadence turned her eyes toward the boat just in time to see a figure walk out onto the very tip of the ship. It was someone of short stature. Even shorter than herself. The girl’s hair was dark and frizzy, and her dark skin was splattered with a birthmark that was concentrated around her left eye in an almost butterfly-like pattern. A pair of plaid overalls were pulled up over her pin-striped blouse, and a pair of dirty boots hugged her feet tight.

After a long moment of silence in which all eyes turned toward her, the girl finally spoke: “We did it, you guys. We did it.”

There was a beat of surreal silence and then a deafening roar. Cheers, whooping shouts, claps, laughs, fist pumps, literal jumps into the air. Everyone was absolutely ecstatic. Except Cadence, of course. She glanced around the room and tried her best to keep her bewilderment hidden.

“We sure are some devilish kids,” Cadence said to the boy who stood beside her, “to be cheerin’ on the deaths of a dozen people like this.”

“Well, Duccio…” The boy’s smile faltered. “I mean they’re… they’re the ones who…”

He trailed off as an odd, reverent silence settled into the room. As the last of the cheering died down, all eyes once again turned to the girl who stood on the boat.

“The families that run the city—we were nothing to them,” she continued, her squeaking voice ringing clear. “They probably didn’t even remember we existed even after everything they did. We were probably just like ants to them. Something they didn’t even care or think about when they stepped down on us. Squashing us.” Here, the girl paused and seemed to make eye contact with every single person in the room, including Cadence herself. “But we gave them a taste of their own medicine. We showed them what the bite of an ant can do.”

‘Taste of their own medicine’ ? The explosive conductor? It couldn’t be—

No one clapped, yet there was determination in the air. All eyes were locked on the girl’s figure, all heads nodding in agreement.

Cadence was missing something. She knew she was definitely missing something. Where was this animosity coming from? Sure, the crime families operating in the Twin Cities kicked in a few dozen people or so, but that was business. They never did anything involving children. Ricardo was fond of children. What was this?

“Tomorrow we’re hitting them even harder.”

Of course they were. Cadence resisted sighing.

“Thanks to Francisco and Frieda, we just got the conductors for the job,” the girl continued, making eye contact with Cadence. “In three days, we’re going for their cover-up joint in the downtown Gamma District. Now, they’ll have to see us.”

So they were planning to hit up a joint in the Gamma District. That obviously was in reference to the Geminorium Gamma dining spot that the Foxmans owned. Another front for the conductor circling business. A very, very busy and successful front. But how in the world did these kids get their hands on those conductors? And why were they out for the Foxmans and Romanos? The Romanos kept a leash on production and the Foxmans a careful eye on distribution. Unless—

A clap resounded through the area, and its echo seeped into all corners of the room. Cadence looked around. No one else seemed to react to it despite it ringing loud and clear—so loud and clear that it kickstarted a migraine at her temple.

Cadence swept the area in search of the source and found her gaze settling on the very edge of the boat. Sitting cross-legged on the pointed bowsprit of the ship was a woman with wind-tousled dark brown hair that framed her sun-kissed face. Even from this distance, Cadence could see the woman’s long lashes and the almost unnatural glow of her bottle-green eyes under them. The bright white smile that was cracked right beneath those eyes was unnerving. Regardless, the woman was stunning. Her sharp, wolfish features contrasted startlingly with what she wore, however. A loose and partially unbuttoned white blouse was thrown loosely over her toned frame, and a bright red sash hung at her waist. Tucked in that sash was a sheathed sword. She looked more like a picture-book privateer than anything else.

“How wonderful! Such a passionate speech, no?” The woman barked a musical laugh that put Francis’s to shame. She swept her gaze across the room before locking eyes with Cadence. “Things are starting to get exciting, don’t you think, my mysterious friend?”

“Who—”

Abruptly the doors to the warehouse flew open behind Cadence, and she turned towards the doorway. Outlined in the misty darkness of the threshold stood a group wearing blank white masks. Cadence looked back at the ship. The woman was gone. The girl who’d been standing behind the woman was gaping in shock and horror. Cadence flicked her gaze back to the white-masked figures just in time to see them pull objects from behind their backs.

There was a bright flash of green light, a terrible whine, and then a squelching sound—like the sound boots made when stomping on muddy wet ground. Cadence felt something warm splatter against her left cheek. Her gaze flicked in the direction. Lying on the ground there was the boy she’d been talking to earlier. Half of his face was missing—carved out, leaving only red.

As she stared at the blood pooling out from his head, Cadence couldn’t help but realize that she hadn’t even gotten to know his name.

Distantly, one of the children wailed.

“We are ELPIS,” hissed one of the mask-wearers, “It’s time to bring you to justice in the name of hope.”