'This town's too small

You run around like you do

You're taking things

Just don't belong to you'

"Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?"

I swallowed harshly, even if I doubted it would help me get rid of the knots in my guts as my eyes traveled from nervous chocolate ones, fixing me expectantly, to large crystalline, also staring at me expectantly. As each of them was sitting on an armchair, it left me cornered on the couch, with the fireplace worsening the cold sweat in my back.

"Shooting star?"

Here we were... to the talk, the talk about Grandpa's investigation.

If for an instant, I'd imagined something else, forgetting about the matter in the whirlwind of fires and disasters, the second we'd stepped into the living room, the many papers spread on the coffee table had taken the forefront of my mind and twisting guts.

I had the feeling nothing would be the same after this 'talk'... Good or bad, that I couldn't know, and that was surely the reason why my heart was hesitating between accelerating or just crumbling down with each beat.

"Dorothy?"

My gaze lifted from the plate of untouched toasts, which my fingers were playing with on my lap, to Blade's eyes, growing more impatient with each variation of my name, and we hadn't even reached the 'Dorothea'.

Though what I dreaded more than the sound of my full name that announced nothing good was sparking off another devastating fire.

The crystalline expanse in his eyes had barely calmed, and the tensions in the air had dissipated. Spencer and Blade had even prepared the meal together, after Spencer had refused my help to peel off the hard-boiled eggs and had asked Blade instead, and even if I could have been offended at first, seeing the appetizing toasts with slices of eggs and toppings of herbs was filling my chest with happiness. They'd made the meal with care together, and I hoped to not mess it up once again as I resigned myself to take a deep breath.

"There wasn't only your mom's pic in Grandpa's binder." My eyes stayed on Blade's, even from under my lashes, trying to prevent a tempest in the crystalline shades with my anxious electric green as I wetted my dry lips and continued, "Spencer found the mayor Thornton's, and he could be linked to Carrion's drug traffic."

'Carrion', 'drug', 'Thornton', 'your mom'... Even I could tell how bad it sounded. I wasn't the best with words, and in two sentences, I'd combined all the possible triggers of his outburst.

My heart was already thumping the countdown to the first blow, yet nothing came out, no punch, no curse, not even a chuckle, and only a shadow darkened the blue expanse with his creasing eyebrows as he seemed to slowly connect the dots, along with the freckles on my cheeks.

When he slowly nodded, Spencer surely took it as a sign to drop the bomb because he added, "Not 'could', he is, and deeply involved. From the pieces of evidence here, I think he's the one behind the whole traffic."

"What?!" Finally, I was the one threatening to explode as my gaze followed Spencer's pointed finger on the coffee table, and everything started to spin: photos, texts, graphs, the bangs of my heart, the new questions in my head, and the shivers to my guts.

"There is evidence of money laundering under the city hall, photos and testimonies describing him," Spencer explained slowly, and I tried to hold on to the familiar sound of his smooth voice like to the last thread of my sanity as everything appeared so surreal.

It had already been a shock when I'd discovered about Douglas and the way they were hiding his crimes, and I was aware now that the Thorntons were crooked and dangerous. But this... it was–

"It's huge." Spencer nodded, the wide look in his eyes telling me there was more. "People in the police are involved, other politicians, bankers, accountants, even gangsters. They're all making sure to erase all traces from the production to the benefits, and Grandpa Al has collected evidence at every step..." he breathed out, the shallow sigh sounding divided between admiration for Grandpa's impressive work and disgust at the matter, while I couldn't even know what I was feeling.

I was paralyzed and shaking too much. I was cold to the bone, while my brain and my blood were fusing, and the beats of my heart were expanding my ribcage, yet the oxygen was still struggling to reach me.

"And it's not only for the drug. There's prostitution and other illegal crimes, all linked because the buzzhead is really addictive, and they easily target young people with it, especially women who become addicted, and that way, they're manipulable. They hire them as prostitutes, and it's a win-win for the traffic because they get the money from prostitution and the drug that the women buy with the little they're earning.

"Here, there are even scientific tests showing the dependency rates." He pushed some papers in my hand, and I didn't even hear the rest.

I had enough; I had too much, as my gaze slid to the bank statements, chemical reports, unposed photos, testimony transcriptions, and all these documents Grandpa had always rested his articles on. I was used to those, and I barely skimmed them. Yet it was on the words 'Thornton' and 'buzzhead' scribbled in Grandpa's handwriting that my eyes were stuck, along with everything progressively slowing down inside my body.

"Wait, so your grandpa's investigation at Carrion was about the buzzhead, and that bastard of Thornton is the mysterious supplier?" Blade spoke up for the first time, his eyebrows set into a deep crease as if he'd just come to this summary.

Yet under his confused frown, he wasn't looking for an answer to the obvious question. He was searching for my eyes, and in his piercing gaze, I could glimpse the conclusion I was landing on too, the one that had been floating in the back of my mind since the moment Spencer had shown me that photo, those photos in Grandpa's binder.

Grandpa's investigation had been about the buzzhead, the drug that had killed Blade's mom, and the one behind this traffic was the mayor Thornton, the father of the man I'd shot down. Everything was linked; it had been all this time.

I'd sensed in my guts that there were missing puzzle pieces in all of this, yet I would have never imagined the image it would form, and even if it was currently a clutter of papers on the table, it appeared bigger and clearer than ever, all these pieces, sharp angles, curved hollows, large centerpieces, and forgotten corners slotting perfectly together no matter how you looked at it.

It felt like a surreal coincidence, so many surreal coincidences. But 'coincidences were just proofs waiting for journalists to find them', and as my gaze flickered to Spencer seated on Grandpa's brown armchair, his hands shuffling through all these pieces of evidence, I knew there was no coincidence.

What had led me to this hidden box in the attic, what had led us to Grandpa's cabin, what had led me to that courtyard at the same moment that Douglas, what had led me to Blade... everything flashed backward with every strong thud of my heart, as far as that forgotten memory of the little me stumbling upon the mayor Thornton and Blade's mom, to finally come back to the same crystalline blue when I nodded, a knowing smile stretching my lips at Blade's stunned expression.

I still couldn't comprehend it fully, how everything had depended on a second, an inch, an instinct, but as a shiver ran down my guts, I could only recognize that it was something bigger than us, and everything happened for a reason...

"I think it can help us." Spencer was the first one to say what the loud beats of our hearts were trying to form, as he'd had more time to digest everything. Though I could still hear the hint of breathlessness in his voice, even after all this time. "If it discredits the Thorntons and shows that they're far from innocent."

"Do you think the pieces of evidence are still valid after all these years?" I tried to calm down the hammering of my heart and think clearly, instinctively standing up and circling the coffee table with my gaze on all the proofs as if they would disappear, or maybe just to see things through Grandpa's acute eyes as I sat on the armrest of his chair.

After all, Spencer was seated on it, and he'd discovered a lot. Besides, I had a better view of the papers he was holding.

"Yes, five years isn't much, and most of these documents are still relevant, except for the delivery route since they've destroyed the road for the–"

"The beltway! That's what the fuckers of Carrion use for their delivery. It makes sense now that they've never been caught, and if Thornton's behind it, I wouldn't be surprised they're hiding some stocks under. I knew a guy in jail who did that with his loot." Blade clapped his hands once as something else clicked... The delivery, the police trying to catch the Crossbones but never Carrion's gang, which took me back to...

"That could explain why Douglas had tried to denounce you to the police for your own delivery at the Callum's farm, and surely that night..." I whispered, the words still sour in my mouth, though was it for my crimes or what could have happened?

He'd tried to catch Blade; he'd had plans to, killer plans.

"And Rye, do you think that's why they were friends? Because Rye wanted to deal the buzzhead? Do you think the Thorntons are still doing this?" Grandpa's armchair was really effective!

"Why would they stop?" Blade cocked an eyebrow like to remind me people in his world were bad, in our world. "The buzzhead's still going strong, and they're still bread greedy."

Power greedy too.

"And that was why Douglas was back to learn and take over his dad's 'business'." Spencer nodded, more puzzle pieces adding up to make the image clearer and clearer.

Douglas had learned a lot already, and he hadn't been far from his father, finally, because the broken look on the women's photos I glimpsed on the table resembled a lot the ones I'd seen in the innocent girls Douglas had raped. The only difference was that it was even more evident with their dark circles under and their thin features, exactly like the woman whose picture was still in my pocket. I could recognize the unmistakable powerlessness.

Blade had been wrong on one thing, and the scientific tests proved it: his mom hadn't had a choice. Like Douglas had trapped his victims in dark corners, his father entrapped them in an endless cycle of addiction with the buzzhead, and I could feel the freezing shivers down my guts at the thought of all the lives that had been destroyed, the families broken, the women and men taken away for their greed.

"We have to share it," I announced, barely recognizing the sound of my voice as it was pushed straight out of my chest with the bangs of my heart, and they grew even stronger as I lifted my gaze from the pictures. "Even if it doesn't help us, we have to do it, for all these people they've abused."

My eyes settled on Blade's, and for a second, I was sure I saw a 'thank you' written in the depths of blue, like a message from the broken little boy before it was washed away with the flash of glistening fragility.

"And for Grandpa." Now I was starting to understand why he'd sacrificed his life, and as my fingers skimmed his notes here and there, I could almost hear his quiet voice... 'It could change lives.' It still could.

"Okay, that's great, but how? We can't give it to the pigs when they're involved." Blade sighed, tired from the heavy talk, or maybe just of my stubbornness. "Do I have to remind you the Thorntons have all the powers?"

"No," I replied quietly, tightening my grip on the papers. "They don't have all the powers. There's something more powerful than the forces of order and money."

"The most powerful weapon?" Spencer's gaze met mine through a sideways glance, the knowing sparkle there telling me he'd once more read my thoughts.

"Yes, pens and papers, well, newspapers." And that was within reach for us. It was even in our hands literally as a tingle tickled the tip of my fingers against the paper, and it traveled until the smile on my lips, passing by my stomach.

The power was in our hands.

"There's just one problem... We don't have a newspaper to print it, nor a journalist to write it actually, because Grandpa Al didn't get to write more than a few notes." Spencer pulled me back down to reality before I could jump.

Yet it wasn't enough to take down my grin; on the contrary, it stretched even prouder, and a little mischievously as I held his gaze. "We do have a journalist."

Spencer was still following the path of my thoughts, and that was why the color was slowly draining from his face with it. "N-no... No, I can't do that. I've never done anything like that."

"You can do that. You're the only one who can do that with your talents, and it's your chance."

He might have known me enough to read my mind, but I knew him too, and I saw through his heart, that dream he'd had since he'd been little, that spark ready to ignite. I could glimpse it in the amber shades of his eyes that not even his creased eyebrows could shadow as he peered at me.

"No, I can't. It's Grandpa Al's work. I'm not as talented as he was, and I can't ruin his hard work..."

"He isn't here anymore." My smile twitched sadly, yet I didn't let my lips tremble, and I blinked away the tears to focus on the present and the papers he'd worked on that remained still. "And he wouldn't have wanted all his hard work to stay hidden in a box. The best way to honor his memory and his talent is to write down all his discoveries."

I was slowly convincing him as he nibbled his lips, rolling and releasing them again and again, and the 'yes' was just on the tip there, yet the tensions and insecurities in his features kept holding it back. He needed a little push, and as my gaze traveled beyond the coffee table, I knew exactly what could do it.

Grandpa had been right; this armchair had the best view on his crime board and desk, and I rushed there to grab the weapon laying there, my fingers and my smile tingling even more.

"He believed in you, and I do too. So since everything here is technically mine now, as May Emerald, I dub you journalist." I tapped the pen on his shoulders and head as if it was a sword, making a laugh loosen up his features, and I took the opportunity to grab the hand he was running through his curls to slide the pen into his palm, the sparks of power traveling through our fingers and shining until his eyes.

"You're sure?"

"Argh, if you keep going, I'm gonna do it myself!" Blade tilted his head back in frustration, though the hint of his dimple was peeking when his eyes came back down. "I already have a title: 'Thorntons: scumbags from father to son.'"

I knew exactly what he was doing, and I gladly joined. "Oh, I can help you! How do you spell it again? S-K-U–"

"Okay." Spencer raised his hand in surrender, or more exactly, his pen with power, shaking his head at our twisted convincing. "I will try."

"Yay! You'll do amazing!" I didn't give him time to protest, wrapping my arms around him. "And then, do you think Billy could print it?"

"That, I'm sure. He's been waiting for news like that for years! It could even end up on the What'Sub front page."

"So everyone will see it..." My gaze instinctively found the various documents and photos again, trying to picture them on the familiar beige paper and the chain reaction it would trigger, like a shiver of power spreading quickly and growing in intensity... all those gasps, whispers, and louder gossip, the same ones that had vilified the 'monstrous' murderer and cried the 'honorable' Douglas Thornton.

They would at least change sides on one thing, and it would make even more noise than the 'scary murder'. Yet would it be enough to cover it completely? Would we be there to hear this powerful chain reaction?

"And will it be enough to clear us?"

"Like I said, it can help us because Kenneth will probably be removed from the affair, and his dad will lose his powers over the police and courts. If we tell the truth, people will believe us and be more lenient. But..." Spencer paused for a second, searching for words to say it smoothly, although it was already echoing louder than all the possible gossip in the depths of my mind. "It's still a crime for the law, and even if we can open a debate and have enough people on our side in the jury to exonerate us, this kind of judgment takes a lot of time..."

"And we don't have it." My voice was barely above a whisper, but the silence following was loud enough as I fell back down on the armrest, a hand over my belly.

It was amazing if we could change many lives and stop the dangerous traffic, yet this life growing inside me was the most important, and we were still powerless to protect our baby.

Even though I still couldn't picture if she or he would have brown or blue eyes, red curls, or dark ones, I could perfectly hear the rumors that would follow this tiny silhouette in rompers. 'It's the kid of a murderer.' 'Her or his parents abandoned them.' 'She or he was born in prison, and it won't take long for this kid to go back there.' 'She or he's alone–'

"Who's said we would tell the truth?" Blade's voice rose above the cacophony with that same tone on which he'd once offered me to forget, silencing all the voices insides, and there was definitely something magical in it because it still worked, leaving only the bangs of my heart as I lifted my gaze towards the familiar bad intention at the corner of his lips.

"We'd agreed to pretend you were just a witness. So we stick to that, and the article will just help our version 'cause many people could've been after Douglas, and Kenneth and his crooked nose won't be here to nitpick."

"Yes... We could even find someone from the Carrion's gang, so they're not innocent, and their motive could be because Douglas was negotiating with a rival gang?" Spencer's eyes lit up, almost as much as Blade's mischievous grin.

I'd never seen them agreeing so easily, and as they nodded at each other, the air crackled with a new power, a lot like the sizzlings in the fireplace: their opposite forces coming together the same way as the flames and oxygen there.

"We just need to be sure they have someone of the same height as you in their gang, and with no alibi," Spencer thought out loud, always anticipating every detail, while Blade's lips slowly stretched into a sly grin.

"That's my call... I can talk to Pete. He still has connections in Carrion, and he can find us the info."

"Pete? I thought we couldn't trust anyone else?"

Oh, no... Had I talked too soon? I wouldn't let Spencer's frown put down the powerful crackling that was just starting to tingle my skin. "Pete is Blade's uncle, and I trust him as much as I trust Blade."

There was not an ounce or waver of doubt in me, and Spencer saw it in my gaze as he sighed.

"Then, I guess I trust him too..."

"Okay, so it's settled." I smiled as Spencer and Blade nodded again, and this time, the crackling was seeping under my skin, slowly making its way into my flesh and veins as I took in everything.

We had a journalist, a possible way for people to see Grandpa's investigation and take down the Thorntons and their inhuman traffic, but also a plausible and backed version to avoid crime sentences. For the first time, it really appeared possible; it really appeared like...

"Does it mean we have a plan?" My eyes traveled between the two men as I tried to hold back my smile, my hope, my heart, and everything ready to ignite.

I was ready to ignite. For months, I'd felt like we were missing something. It may have been just a faint instinct in the clutter of my guts, but we'd finally found the key to this mystery, as Grandpa would have said, and everything was untangling and aligning. Along with our bold ideas, own talents, shitty instincts, and broken memories, it all formed a long fuse, waiting for a tiny spark to trigger the most powerful bang.

"No, we have an evil genius plan." Blade flashed his Cheshire cat's smile, and somewhere in between, as I put a hand over my belly and extended the other that was quickly sandwiched between Spencer's warm palm and Blade's inked fingers, the spark lit up.

Who's ready to ignite too? 🤯 Did you see all of this coming? Or did I surprise you? 😏

Tell me all your thoughts in the comments! Do you believe this evil genius plan can work? 🤔 And what do you think of Grandpa's investigation?

I'm excited for what's to come! And if you are too, don't forget to vote ⭐! I love when you share your excitement, theories, and thoughts about the story with me! Your notifs are illuminating my days like Shooting stars 😘🌠✨💕