Kelly watched Nakane disappear down the corridor before stepping into her room—no more satisfied than before. In fact, she had even more questions now. She was just about to throw herself onto the bed when there was a quiet knock at the door. She opened to find the freckled redhead on the other side. She raised an eyebrow in question.

“You asleep?” he asked.

“No, I’m sleepwalking,” she muttered. But seeing his confused expression, she added, “I was just about to lie down. What do you want?”

“We’re having a little team meeting—just us—and you’re the last one we’re waiting on,” he explained in a conspiratorial whisper, nodding toward a door down the hall. With that silent invitation, he headed that way. Kelly sighed, abandoning any hope of catching even a short nap.

Sure enough, the whole crew had gathered inside one of the rooms—except her. The redhead was perched on a dresser beside Gargamel, Amstaff sat on the bed, and Elsa got up from his chair to offer it to her, but she declined.

“I’ll stand,” she said, leaning casually against the doorframe. Fastest exit—secured. “So,” she added, as everyone stared at her, “apparently you were waiting on me?”

“Yep,” Amstaff confirmed, standing up. “But you kinda vanished earlier.”

“Went to stretch my legs.”

“And they just let you out?” the redhead asked, surprised.

“I wish. I had a tail the whole time.”

“Figures,” Elsa sighed. “Of course they’re keeping an eye on us.”

“Anyway,” Amstaff cut in, steering things back on track, “since we’re being shoved into this makeshift team and expected not to mess it all up, maybe we should at least know a little about each other. Callean didn’t even bother with introductions.”

They looked around at one another, then back at Amstaff.

“I mean names, jobs... the usual,” he clarified. “Any objections?”

“Feels like a class icebreaker,” Gargamel snorted.

“Call it what you want. So?”

“Well, if we’re stuck with each other anyway, might as well,” the redhead shrugged. “I’ll even go first!” He raised his hand like he was in school. Amstaff gave a nod, and the redhead launched into it:

“Name’s Ben, age twenty. What I do, nicely put, is exploit weaknesses in digital security. More bluntly: I’m a hacker.” He grinned like he just confessed to being a brain surgeon.

“Are you the guy online who goes by BadBoy007?” Elsa asked shyly, leaning forward. Kelly and the others barely managed not to laugh.

Ben raised his eyebrows high. “Yeah. How do you know that?”

Elsa gave him a small wave. “Name’s Julian Sinclair. You probably know me better as WhiteHawkeye.”

Ben nearly choked on air. “No way!” he exclaimed. “Two years ago, you beat me to breaching the Third District Police HQ! I almost made it—but thanks to you, I failed!”

“I lived nearby. Didn’t want you letting a bunch of scumbags out onto the streets.”

“You ruined a perfectly good hack!” Ben huffed, crossing his arms.

“So Callean brought in two hackers,” Amstaff whistled.

Julian scratched the side of his head. “I wouldn’t say I’m a hacker exactly... more like an IT guy.”

“Still, you must’ve done something to get Callean’s attention,” Gargamel pointed out.

Julian swallowed and glanced away. “Maybe... I tried hacking the Borg Tower.”

“You what!?” That bombshell nearly knocked Ben off his seat. The Borg Tower, located in downtown Brightmoore, was basically the mother of all security systems on the island.

“I said tried,” Sinclair emphasized. “It was too risky. As soon as I realized they were onto me, I backed off, wiped everything, and haven’t done anything... illegal since.”

“Well aren’t you a saint,” Gargamel laughed. “Good luck staying alive with that attitude.”

“I’ll try. Thanks for your concern,” Julian replied coolly. “You, on the other hand, look like you’ve got quite a rap sheet yourself.”

Gargamel shrugged. “Depends on how you feel about collecting protection fees from local business owners.”

“Ahh, Jax Carter,” Amstaff said, stroking his chin. “Heard of you. The so-called Facebreaker, right? Heard what you do to ‘uncooperative clients.’”

“Gotta know how to collect what’s yours,” Carter said with a shrug, like they were discussing overdue rent. They locked eyes for a moment until Carter snapped his fingers. “You were on my list too, back in the day. But then you and my boss struck a deal.”

“Your boss wanted a hot car. Someone tipped him off that Keith’s Garage had the best rides. Gotta know how to work the system.” Amstaff grinned slyly.

“So you run your own garage?” Ben asked, resting his chin on his hand. “That actually sounds... legal.”

“The garage, yeah. But smuggling car parts and organizing illegal races?” He winked. “Not so much.”

“I still get the feeling you’re hiding something,” Ben clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Callean doesn’t waste time on small fish.”

Kelly listened in silence, wondering just what kind of seasoned criminals were sleeping in the rooms next to hers. As the conversation picked up and the guys discovered more and more in common, she silently hoped they’d forget she even existed—that she’d somehow blended into the doorframe and become invisible.

Unfortunately, no such luck.

“And what about our little princess over there—what’s she got going on?” Keith teased, flashing a crooked grin.

She shot him a cold look.
“Kelly, if you must. And I’ve got nothing in common with a princess.”

Keith raised his hands in mock apology, though the smug smile never left his face. She wondered if a nice meeting with her boot would wipe it off.

“So, Kelly,” he continued, “what’s your line of work?”

And there it was—the worst part of this whole little get-together. Hacker, illegal street racer, even a guy who shook down business owners—none of it sounded half as bad compared to her “profession.” Thief. Among criminals, thieves were always looked at sideways. She’d seen it happen more than once—people instinctively stuffing their hands into their pockets when she walked past. Sticky fingers, klepto—just a few of the charming nicknames. Thieves were the outcasts of the outcasts. Funny, really.

She took a breath and forced herself to say it, knowing there was no getting around it.

“Former thief,” she muttered at last.

“Former, huh? Early retirement at the height of your youth?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something like that.”

“I’ve heard once a thief, always a thief,” Carter said with fake innocence, casting a sideways glance her way.

“And I’ve heard a broken nose hurts for the rest of your life. Want to test that one?”

Keith quickly stepped between them, hands up, just in case Kelly was serious. And honestly, she might’ve been.

“Let’s cool it with the threats and judgments, yeah?” he said diplomatically. “You can smash his nose later—hell, I’ll watch—but only after we’re done crawling out from under Callean’s thumb.”

Leadership role—claimed.

“Doesn’t matter if you’re a hacker or a thief. The only thing we need to do now is work together long enough to get this done. We protect the kid, make sure our files actually do get burned, and then get the hell out. Far away. Somewhere Callean can’t touch us.”

Despite their different views and clashing personalities, everyone nodded in agreement. Get the job done, then vanish. Far enough that no devil like Callean would ever find them again.