The girls returned from the mission, weary but sharp. Michelle and Milena waited for them at the entrance, offering curt nods of approval as the team went inside. Soon, all the girls gathered in the briefing room. Michelle stepped into Dawson’s usual place and took his chair at the front, the posture of a mission leader fitting her surprisingly well. But one chair remained empty. Her father’s chair. For the first time, he wasn’t there. The room filled with confused looks.

Trella finally spoke. “Where is your dad?”

“He’s not joining us tonight,” Michelle replied.

Aya frowned. “Wait—he bailed on debrief? That’s a first.”

The room buzzed with murmurs. Katya muttered something sharp in Russian. Amelie crossed her arms, unimpressed. Williams missing a debrief was like the sun not rising; it simply did not happen. Milena exchanged a look with Michelle but stayed silent. Michelle kept her expression steady and continued the debrief.

“Mission parameters were met. Target secured. Only one minor injury. Excellent work.”

Trella wasn’t really listening. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes locked on the empty chair.

“‘He’s never missed a debrief. Not once. What happened here? Has this something to do with Aya?’”

She missed most of the debrief, since she ´s been lost in her own thoughts.

“…end of debrief.”

Dawson appeared at the door. “Good work. Professional. And you, Michelle, you did excellent.”

For the first time, the girls didn’t see Michelle as the tagalong daughter of a CIA officer. They saw Cipher—one of them. Chairs scraped back as the girls dispersed into the hallway. Only Trella and Aya lingered, watching Michelle.

Trella stepped in. “Alright, Cipher. Spill. What’s going on with your dad? He wouldn’t just vanish. Not without reason.”

Michelle exhaled through her nose. She weighed whether to soften the truth, then chose not to.

“He’s out. Pulled off liaison duty.” A pause. “Because of that hole in Aya’s shoulder.”

Aya blinked, her hand brushing the spot where the bullet had grazed her. “Seriously? That was nothing. I’ve had paintball hits worse than that.”

“And he let it happen,” Michelle said.

Aya looked briefly guilty, as if her scratch had caused a man to lose his career. Trella stepped closer, voice low.

“Then… that means he’s gone? He’s not part of us anymore?”

Michelle didn’t flinch. “We will see. He’s still my father…”

“And we are your sisters,” Trella said.

Aya nodded. “So, what now?”

“We keep going. With or without him.”

Trella and Aya left. Dawson approached Michelle.

“That was really a job well done. Father or not, that was the right call.” He paused. “Let me ask you something. You’ve read the files… but not everything is in there. After the Organization collapsed, how many Fangs do you think died in action?”

“I don’t know…” Michelle answered.

“Zero. Not just because of their skills, but because of the decisions we make back here. And thanks to your decisions, that zero still stands.”

Days have passed. No new missions. Deal required the Coordinator and a CIA liaison to be present. But agent Williams has been suspended and so far there was no suitable replacement. In the meantime Michelle was not just studying the files, but she asked the girls to train her a bit. Even an analyst must have at least basic self-defense skills… Michelle trained hand-to-hand, with knives, even practiced with a small sidearm.

Dawson met her later in the hallway….

“I know you don’t like this topic, but how is your father doing?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t talked to him since… you know…”

“I need to ask you a painful favor. I would like you to talk to him. It pains me to say it, but we need him in order to operate.”

“Why? His negligence almost got Aya killed.”

“It was just a scratch, but I understand your point. Now understand mine. We need a liaison here to work. That was part of the deal with the CIA. He wasn’t the first. But he was the only one capable not just of accepting the Fangs but working with them.”

“He never accepted them.”

“Maybe. But he was tough enough to be here. I don’t need you two to be a perfect father-daughter couple. I just want you to talk to him. He didn’t want you here, but you’re old enough to make your own decisions and he needs to accept that.”

“I know. And I hate to see him like this. It still hurts.”

“I know. Regardless of the outcome, talking to him will help both of you. And if you need anything, ask.”

Michelle nodded. “Thanks. Alright. I will do it. Sometimes I feel you understand me better than he does.”

Michelle had a long time to think about Dawson's words and about everything that happened in the past few weeks. She's decided to do it. She picked up the phone and called her dad.

“Hi dad.”

“Daughter… I… I…” Williams slurred through the phone.

Oh, man… He’s drunk again…

“I want to talk to you. But not like this,” she said.

“Please come home. We can talk.”

“This is now my home. I want to talk to you in person. But first, you need to sober up. Then you can visit me here. Okay?”

“Fine… Promise… For you…”

Michelle hung up, worry tightening her chest. Williams arrived shaky, broken, not knowing what to expect. They went to her room.

“I’m glad you came, dad. And I don’t smell any alcohol. You kept your word. I’ve heard what’s going on. How are you doing?”

Her voice was calm, but not stone cold. She tried to be pleasant and sincere. 

“I’ve been better. I’ve lost my badge, at least for now, sent to therapy and I lost my only daughter. Aside from that, I’m fine.”

“Sorry, dad. I don’t want it to sound like it’s your fault, but you never really gave me a choice.”

“What?!”

“Please calm down. I didn’t call you here to argue. I want to make peace with you.”

“Peace? You left home. You left me. You broke me. And now you’re living in this house full of monsters. And you want peace? Please come home.”

“Dad… This is where I belong now. And they’re not monsters. They’re human. Children who lost the right to choose. Abducted, forged into weapons. And for years that’s all they were. Here, for the first time in their lives, they have a chance to be normal.”

“They’ll never be normal.”

“Maybe. But they’re as normal as they can get. But… am I normal?”

“You are my daughter.”

“I know… Ever since mom died I felt alone. You were always working, home late and tired. I had to take care of myself. And because I’m ‘little miss CIA’, I never had real friends. They were the first to accept me how I am. Something I rarely felt even from you. I felt like you wanted me to be a copy of you kept safe in a golden cage.”

“I never wanted that. But you’re the only person I have left. I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I understand that. But just like those kids never had a choice, I felt you were taking my right to choose.”

“And you chose them… Became one of them. A criminal.”

“Maybe more of a vigilante. We are not evil. And they’ve never taken an innocent life. I may have become one of them, but I don’t want to lose you. I know I was ice cold these weeks and caused you pain, but… you didn’t want to listen. You let your negative emotions take over.”

“You’re right. I was angry beyond control. But can you blame me?”

Michelle lowered her head. A long silence followed. Something deep inside her started to change. The darkness accumulated inside of her was slowly fading away. She didn't want to argue. She didn't want to cause him more pain. But she also didn't want to go back…

“For the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re having a real conversation and my words reach you. Dad… I’ve made my choice, but…”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to accept me as I am. Letting me go doesn’t mean losing me. I want to make my own decisions.  And if I make mistakes – I am the one who needs to learn from them. I’ve grown.”

“Yes, you have… When I saw you in that control room, it was like looking in a mirror. I didn’t want you in that world, but here you are. I just need time to get used to it.”

“You have all the time you want. Just stop being bitter. Stop destroying yourself. I… I love you, dad.”

“I love you too.”

Before they could embrace, a violent bang shook the orphanage. Alarms blared.

Michelle transformed into Cipher instantly. She sprinted to the side room and saw the breach: around a dozen armed intruders storming the building. The armory was two floors below, but the girls kept some weapons in their rooms. Half asleep or not, with Michelle coordinating via camera feeds, the Fangs moved with lethal discipline. The invaders were no match. But one attacker burst into Michelle’s room. Before Williams could react, he was shot and collapsed. The attacker aimed again, wanting to finish the job. Another shot rang out. But not his. Michelle’s. The attacker dropped.

Michelle froze, shaking. She had given orders to kill before, but had never pulled the trigger herself. The others were eliminated quickly, but for Michelle the biggest concern at the time was her dad. Still alive, but heavily bleeding.

‘‘I killed him…’’

“Oh, no… Dad! Dad, hold on!”

Michelle was panicking. Aya appeared at the door. 

“Michelle, are you— Damn…”

Michelle grabbed her earpiece.

“Status?!”

“Trella here, clear!”

“Aiko here, clear!”

“Katya here, outside clear too.”

“Maya here, it got quiet. I think we’ve got them all.”

“Aya, get Liza here, quickly!”

Michelle looks back at her dad. “Please hold on!”

Liza rushed in moments later. “Apply pressure here! We need Milena!”

Trella’s voice came through. “She’s already prepping. Aya and Amelie are coming with a stretcher.”

Her father stirred, pain twisting his features. His eyes found Michelle — his daughter, his Cipher — the pistol still in her hand, the body behind her. For the first time, he saw her not as the child he’d tried to shield, nor the stranger who had iced him out. He saw her as something else entirely. Strong, terrifying, his. And she, still trembling under the armor, said the only thing that mattered in that moment.

“Dad, stay with me.”

“You… you saved me,” he whispered.

Michelle’s breath hitched. The gun felt unbearably heavy. She set it down beside her, fingers shaking as if they didn’t belong to her anymore. She wanted to deny it, to pretend it hadn’t been her shot, but the body on the floor said otherwise.

“I… I had to…”

His blood-slick hand reached for hers. Weak, trembling, but deliberate. She hesitated only a second before gripping it, clutching tight. There was no judgment in his eyes now. No anger. No paranoia. Just something rawer, stripped bare by pain — gratitude, and fear of losing her. For the first time in weeks, Michelle felt her ice crack. Her throat burned as the words slipped out, softer than she meant.

“I couldn’t let you go,” she whispered.

His grip faltered as the pain dragged him down again, and Liza barked. “We’re losing him! Hold pressure!”

Michelle pressed harder against the wound.

“You’re not leaving me. Not now.”

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. Aya and Amelie came with the stretcher and rushed Williams to the improvised operating room. Milena was already prepared for emergency surgery.

***

Michelle sat asleep beside his bed. The operation had been a success. Williams slowly woke.

“About time you woke up,” Milena said.

“Michelle…”

“She fell asleep. She was here all night. She’s fine. And you will be too. Don’t mind the noise. Your CIA buddies came to take out the garbage. They're still buzzing around. Obviously a wounded special agent is not something they take lightly. I´ll go to give them the good news and kick them out. All of us need some rest.”

She left. Michelle stirred awake.

“Dad…? You’re awake?”

“Thanks to you.”

“I pulled the trigger. I’m sorry.”

“I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You saved me.”

“But so did they.”

“Yes…”

For a moment, his eyes shone with something unreadable — fear, pride, guilt, maybe all of it tangled together. Silence settled between them—this time gentle, heartwarming.

Over a week has passed. Williams was slowly recovering. Michelle and the girls took good care of him. He stopped drinking completely and his mind started to heal too. Despite everything he said in the past, the girls responded in kindness. Then came the day...

“Time to return home,” Williams said.

“But not back to work… You still need to recover properly,” Michelle reminded him.

“You all took good care of me. I’m a bit surprised, after all that happened.”

Trella approached them.

“Trella, before I leave… I’d like to talk to you,” Williams said.

“About what?”

“Before all this… I acted like a jerk. Shouted at you, threatened you, saw you all as monsters or criminals. Despite that, you saved me. I want to apologize.”

Trella shrugged. “That’s a surprising shift. Well… we’re not exactly innocent, you know.”

“I know. But if you were monsters, you would have let me bleed out on that floor.”

“If I would, Michelle would use the next bullet on me.” She paused. “Means you’re not pulling the plug, right?”

“No, I’m not. Just… no crazy stunts, okay?”

“Apology accepted. But… there’s one other person you should apologize to.” She eyed Michelle.

“I already have,” Williams said.

Trella nodded. “So, sis, what now?”

“Well, he needs someone to look after him,” Michelle said. “And the house needs a big cleanup. So I guess I’m going there for now. But keep my room as it is. I won’t be gone forever.”

“So you’ll return to us, yes?”

“Well… You could say I have two homes now.”

“Sounds good. As long as your dad won’t do scenes like before.”

“Don’t worry,” Williams said. “I won’t. We talked it over. I’m okay with her being here now. But under one condition.”

“And that is…?” Trella asked.

“Keep her safe.”

“Deal.”

Trella smiled and shook his hand.

During his sick leave he rebuilt himself entirely. When he returned to active duty, he was not only stronger, but wiser—more understanding, more respectful toward the Fangs and toward his daughter.