*Charlie's P.O.V*

This is not me. This is not me at age 13, winning school competitions. Nor at age 15, making and rekindling friendships like with Leo, Mia, and Harry.

This is me after capture. After Igor. I'm supposed to feel victorious, according to news articles.

Traffickers could control us 'special boys' via a gun. Yet, I feel so weak holding up one.

"Lower your arm a bit."

I heed my father. He fires, and I follow suit, striking my dummy's neck.

"Krypton Charlie Hunt," he eyes the hole on his dummy's forehead. I frown whereas he turns to me and adds, "Not too low. Try again."

I aim higher, so my father nods. As our headphones muffle shots, I feel my father's glance.

"Krypton?" He stops.

I do same. Sometimes, the tone he uses to utter my first name is a sign of serious talk.

"Your posture is perfect."

"But?"

That's when he sighs at me, "But it's useless if you don't have one of these -" He sets his rifle down.

"Please, I don't need one, Sir."

"A bat can't save you always. What if the intruder had a gun, huh?" My father holds his waist.

I mumble, "It's been two weeks now. Please stop mentioning it. Please."

I don't want to remember...

"I'll get the gun anyway," he says and strides out of the shooting range.

Our ride home is quiet. Sil meets us at the front porch in her sparkly shirt and jeans. Dad and I get dressed, so we reach a five-star restaurant by seven.

I thank Dad for making reservations, to which he chirps, "Well, we haven't been out as a family much, have we?"

"Nope." Sil snorts. I side-eye her, and she says, "So, Dad, when are you returning to the barracks?"

"You think I should go back?"

"Well, the warzone kids need you," she retorts. I side-eye her again.

Sil, stop.

"And my kids don't?"

"We're not kids, Dad."

Sil, please stop.

"Don't get too cocky, dear," Dad responds. "Maturity is not about age. It's what's up here -" He points to his head. "And you're only nineteen."

"Twenty." She smiles.

I hit her knee and correct, "Almost."

"So, I'm right," he says as the waiter reaches our table. After taking our orders, the waiter gets us champagne.

We drink and later eat silently until Dad asks, "Krypton, how's Leo?"

"He's better now, sir."

"Good." Dad's fork stabs his lettuce. Five seconds lapse for him to chime, "It's a shame he couldn't join us, but he"ll be coming for mass, right?"

Nodding, I tuck a stray strand behind my ear. As my fingers graze skin, I feel memories flooding in. I turn to my sister.

She glowers at Dad, like Syd used to, pupils transfixed on those long lashes of his we've inherited.

"You never told me how you met him. You weren't in his school, right?" Dad chirps in oblivion.

I say, "We met at a skateboard park," to which he implores, "What were you doing there?"

"Swimming."

Before Dad can catch on to Sil's comment, I tell him I was skateboarding. He tilts his head towards Silver. She shrugs.

"And your mother was sending you?"

I nod.

"When?"

"Ur, after school."

He frowns to that. "Shouldn't you have been studying? Was Sydney aware?"

"Urm-"

"Fuck off, Dad." Sil cuts me off. My jaw drops. Our father glares. Silver leaves. Her gait gives the impression that she said nothing - worse words are breeding in her mouth.

Once she vanishes among the classy tables near the entrance, Dad looks at me.

His attention to detail can ruin my resolve. I must remain calm.

Only after clearing his throat does he say, "Won't you go after her?"

I blink.

He frowns. I dip my chicken wing in sauce, and he asks, "Are you not well?"

"I am."

*

Thus initiates my search for Silver. Discovering her with her feet propped on the ledge of the restaurant's fountain, I exhale. She stares at the water till my reflection appears beside hers.

"Sorry," she says. I take off my suit, place it over her shoulders, and mumble, "What has he done?"

"Wrong question." She hugs the suit. "What has he not done?"

Confusion silences me. Sil slants her head, her eyes flickering under the moonlight, observing me solemnly.

"You don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"You already have enough on your plate."

"What is it, Sil?" I ask.

She puffs, "I'm only going to tell you if you tell me what's up with you." Then, her legs kick forward so fast that some stones fall into the water.

I lean back. "I'm fine. Just shaken up."

"About the intruder? I heard the cops think he's an Igor fan."

"Mhm." I gulp. "Came to kill me for ruining the poor man's life. "

"Damn," Sil snorts. "That intruder must be a bored old guy who probably has a bunch of child porn and sees nothing wrong with that, huh?"

"He's not old," I say, pulling out my phone. When I show her the picture Leo took before the police arrived, she smirks. "Bruv, you massacred his face. Look at his swollen jaw and that nasty -"

"Hm," I hum, so she doesn't use the bad word clearly on her tongue. A stone falls.

"Wait here," she says before running inside. Returning with a pencil and paper, she asks for the guy's features. I frown as she takes in my every word with severity, drawing eyes, beard, nose...

By the time she's done, her fingers are red. We both stare at the man's graphited face apprehensively.

"He looks familiar," I reckon. "But in a passive way. Like I could have seen him in a train or something."

"Mm." Her focus lifts to me. "Don't overthink about it. " Then, she rises again. "We should head back inside."

Agreeing, I touch a stone into the water. Aside from the splosh sound and murmurs outside, we are in the quiet. We can rest in the wings of silent grief.

Or we can talk more.

"What is up with you and Dad?"

"Oh, that," she sighs, "It's the usual. I do bad stuff, and Dad blames Sydney. I'm just... sick of it. Sydney, on the other hand, at least showed us how the real world works. She got me interested in acting, encouraged me to make new friends, sent us to the cinema and her parties and like - she wasn't great, but she was there. He wasn't. He just wasn't present whenever he got back home. And now he can bond with us, he's rather being a dick. I know you guys go to the shooting range every Saturday, but there are many more ways to bond. He's putting up a barrier, acting like a macho father. Sydney, on their hand, well, we have seen her in ways no one could imagine. She would break in front of us, get back up, wipe away her tears, and say, 'This is how you get through life, kids'."

"Sil, language," I chide.

She rolls her eyes.

"And we can talk to Dad rather than grumble here, so." I take a step forward.

She takes two.

*

As Dad requested, I bring Leo to mass. He acts so charmingly with my father, to the extent that Sil and I can't help but chuckle under our breaths.

When we head home, I tease Leo about it till he smirks. "You are a jealous baby now?"

"Oh, please. " I cringe. He puts some soup on fire while I cut vegetables. My phone rings, and he turns.

"Everything alright?"

"Just a minute," I say, picking up an unknown number. When a familiar feminine 'hello, Charlie' reverberates, I leave the kitchen. I am in the washroom before I respond, "Who is this?"

"Do you not know me, the great Pamela?"

*Sil's P.O.V*

Oh, ever-interesting-Sydney, your womb should have been removed.

For we did not ask to be born

Yet, blessed are we, they say.

We are consumed in gratitude.

We are at mass, listening, smiling.

Drenched in everything and nothing.

And when all eyes shut, mine widen. I turn to my brother and wonder how he feels about our lives so far. It's not going great, in my opinion.

Has it ever been great? Are we to blame for that? Maybe I am.

Our births brought our parents so much joy. There are a billion pictures of us playing on the beach, attending my recitals, visiting zoos, and whatnot. Who knew they would divorce?

The day it happened, I was happily drawing my future house for our third grade teacher. Krypton must have sensed it - he fell ill 'suddenly'. Our father picked us up and suggested that I spend Christmas with Sydney. I agreed. I didn't know we were making choices already.

Hence began my journey with Sydney. As an actress, she was never herself till she got home. I liked it, being the only one who saw her mumble lines and act them out, only to yell at space and try again. One time, she did this, and the neighbours got worried. I answered the door, telling them that art was being formed.

Art. Sydney was art. She could be listless. Then, at the sound of a camera rolling, her eyes would glimmer with new life. New organs. New home. New husband.

Looking back, sometimes I think I should have been in a film with her. I should have played the role of a new offspring - a sweet one, perhaps.

How would a sweet daughter act? I don't know. All I have seen is what a lovely son does.

My brother is an example; he did all the house chores whenever he visited. Krypton never complained, even when annoyed. He was his most cheerful self with me.

When I heard Dad was taking him to a boarding school, I knew he would curl deeper into his shell. The boarding school had a majestic outlook, with its greenery and archaic religious structures. It was perfect for the values our parents wanted to instil, not for what we needed.

Later, as I joined the girls' version of his school, I found myself alone. The girls were hard to befriend because they were so noisy, except for one nerd, Anna.

Oh, Anna.

Her unwavering focus reminded me of Krypton, so I approached her first. I told her she had lovely shoes. She ignored me. I think she felt that she was so clever that no one was above her.

Her demeanour changed only after seeing me with Krypton at a school event. I'm sure that when it dawned on her that she's not all that.

My brother was the student you never wanted to be up against. Always in the first place. Anna's grades were nowhere near his. He was even the first pick for that year's international math and science competition.

The second pick was Jamiel, a scrawny brunet with deep-set eyes. He liked sticking gum in people's hair and breaking curfews. I have no idea how my thirteen-year-old brain found him attractive.

My brother got Anna to tutor me, much to my disappointment. Anna was a good tutor, but I wanted Jamiel. It didn't help that he studied near us in the library. Sometimes, I pretended not to understand stuff so Anna would beckon Jamiel over.

One fateful day, his thigh hit mine as he explained some trigonometric stuff. I cringed, and he blushed.

Before I knew it, I was waiting for him past curfew time. He met me with books, to my disappointment. Our illegal study meetings were magical. I learned so much from him while he got more comfortable talking to me. He even told me about his impoverished family of eight and his scholarship. I, however, did not want to go into my soap story, so I ... kissed him.

It was for a nanosecond, but oh my - the butterflies in my tummy. Since then, we made a schedule for studying and kissing. We found an abandoned treehouse and arranged blankets, solar lamps, and snacks. It was our own tiny home - or so I thought till we found some pills stashed underneath the wooden floors.

"What is this?!" I yelped. Jamiel frowned at the stash, too, before quickly covering it up.

"We did not see it -"

"But -"

"Silver," he stressed, "We did not see it."

His eyes looked scared as shit, so I nodded. No word about the pills transpired between us again. We left the treehouse. Focused on studies in the library and kissed when Anna wasn't around. Then, a mock exam came up, and he disappeared. No one noticed since we wrote it in a different school. However, as we got on the bus back to Saint John, he appeared bruised.

I grabbed him the moment we got off. He tried to lie, but the swells and cuts all over his body spoke for themselves.

"What happened, Jamiel? Don't lie!"

"Ah, it's, ur-" He scratched his head. "The drugs are missing and... They are for some seniors and ur, they thought I stole them -"

I contend, "But you didn't. "

"Well, they found out we were at the treehouse, so, like, it doesn't matter to them if I'm telling the truth or not. Now, they want me to pay, or else they'll beat me again."

"Then, we should report -"

"Silver, that's going to make this a bigger issue." Jamiel stood up. "And we broke some rules that could kick us off the competition."

I shake my head, yet he finalised. "I'll just pay."

When he mentioned how much he had to pay, I contacted Dad for the money, claiming to be sick. Dad didn't even make further inquiries; he just sent it a week later. While I was counting the money giddily, Anna grunted at me.

"Whatever you have been doing, you better stop before I tell your brother."

"What?" I laughed.

She gave me a death stare and pulled out the pills. "This is yours, right? You think these will help you pass or what?"

"Anna, give them to me."

"No."

So I slapped her. Cradling her cheek, she stormed off to my brother, probably. I didn't care. I just held on to the pills.

When I gave the money to Jamiel, he was so grateful. His smile lit my mood. Little did I know that Anna's snitching would make my brother quit the competition. Little did I realise that I would report Anna for harassing my brother so that she would have to quit too.

I didn't imagine all of that then.

What mattered was that Jamiel was happy. His eyes glowed so bright that there was no way I would have forgotten them.

That's why I am certain that the intruder is Jamiel.