The next day went by in a blur of tears and file reading as I poured over each word, agonizing over the choice that was set before me. Sometime in between all that, I thought about what I'd said to Thor and how out of line I'd been. I might have been right to some degree, but my anger had exaggerated it. Part of me wanted to seek him out, to apologize, but part of lacked the strength. My emotions were drained and I had nothing left to give him in the wake of this trial and the impossible task I'd been set as I again received the information, mentally taking  a tally of it all as I paced incessantly around the apartment.

The Brigade's rap sheet wasn't as long as Ragnar's but theirs was more dangerous. The most recent Jotun attack had been one of three and they'd also unleashed Skoll wolves-fire creatures  that had started a blaze that had destroyed almost ten thousand structures and killed nearly one hundred civilians and fire fighters until they got it under control. Those were just the ones that had involved the use of monsters. Other times they'd resorted to going in themselves with weapons and their own fanatical viewpoint. They always managed a fair bit of destruction and death before finally being stopped, at least for the time being. Ten known offenses in all and each of them had high body counts.

To ignore a lead gave them an advantage that could easily turn into a mass-casualty situation and that gave me my conclusion. I hated myself for it, but this wasn't a risk I could take. Rangar was a slimy son of a bitch according to his record, but he didn't have the resources or brains to do the same level of damage the Brigade did. Even if he spent a lifetime causing chaos, he'd never be able to achieve the same level of destruction the Brigade did in a day. I had to make the trade-off. A lesser sentence in exchange for information.

I sat down on my couch with trembling needs as hot tears beaded up in my eyes once again. The deal was simple; a charge of second degree murder and a sentence of thirty years inside plus parole. On Midgard, that sentence was over a third of someone's life. On Asgard, it was a blip on the radar. It would never be enough for Talia and her family that I could offer. Thinking of them filled me with a brutal mix of empathy and disgust. In the face of their horrible loss, I was going to blindside them.

"The hell I will," I suddenly said aloud, spine stiffening like steel. I had to give Rangar a lighter sentence but I did not have to blindside his victim's family. There was no rule in this trial that said I couldn't speak with victims families and I was going to take full advantage of it. If I was going to do this, I owed it to them to look them in the eye and tell them why the person who tore a hole in their life wasn't getting exactly what they deserved. It was what I wanted at eleven years old and never got. I'd never be able to give them justice, but I could at least provide that.

My resolve to do that stopped my tears and I got to my feet, steady and strong. Or at least, the illusion of strength. It would have to do for now. After a quick stint in the bathroom to wash my face and a bit of makeup to try and make myself look human, I was ready. I slipped on my sneakers and headed out the door with the intention of going to Sif's apartment. Given the time of day, I was sure she'd be home.

I knew calling ahead on the closed-phone system of the castle might have been a wiser move, but then she would've teleported right to me. I wanted the time, however brief to compose myself a little more before I told her what I was going to do. Wrapped in my thoughts, I headed down the stairs with a heavy and determined heart. In my haze of emotion, I wasn't paying attention and was brought back to reality as my shoulder struck another person who exclaimed loudly as they lurched backwards.

Acting purely on instinct, I reached out and grabbed their arm, steadying them as I let out several rushed apologies. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay-?"

"Watch where you're going," a cold voice said and  I realized only then that it was Camila I had almost sent falling down the stairs. Of course it had to be her.

"I'm sorry," I repeated, letting her go as my blood pressure began to rise. My emotions were already frayed and running into Camilla (literally) did nothing to help me control them. "It was an accident."

"Of course it was," she said, her arched brows raise in an expression of clear skepticism.

Normally, I could've brushed it off but I didn't have the strength anymore. "What the hell is your problem?" I growled.

"Problem?" she repeated, tugging at the pearl bracelet around her wrist again and again. I wasn't sure she was even aware of it. "I don't have one."

"You've been antagonist to me since the moment we met!" I fired up again, blood pounding in my ears. Being a bitch was one thing, denying it was another. "You accused me of withholding information about Jotun threats from the others to get ahead in the trials and you seem to think I intentionally walked into you today."

Camilla's red lipped-smile faltered if only for a moment. "Maybe today was a mistake, but the Jotun attack you decided to hide certainly wasn't."

"There was no reason to believe-!" I tried but I never finished.

"No reason to believe you're not like every other cop I've met." Camilla said coldly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

She side-stepped around me and as the pieces fell into place, I called after her. "Camilla?"

"What?" She turned at the sound of her name, scowling at me just like I expected.

"I don't know what experience you had, but I'm sorry you saw the worst of us." I doubted she'd believe that either but I at least wanted to offer it. It was something Matthew had taught me; even if I was a good officer, the bad ones could and did break the trust of the people we were sworn to protect. It was the responsibility of those of us left to repair the damage.

With nothing more to say, I continued on and arrived at my destination shortly. Even outside the door, I could hear Sif snoring. Rolling my eyes, I banged on the door twice, calling her name and I heard a sleepy groan in response.

There was a click and Sif stood in the door. Her newly shortened hair was stuck up and frizzy on one side and my name elongated as she yawned while greeting me. "What's up?"

I explained what I wanted to do. It was a mark of how serious the situation was that Sif became increasingly alert with each word I said. "With or without your help," I finished, "I'll be doing this."

Sif smirked. "I expect nothing less of you." She raked her fingers through her messy hair which helped a bit but it was still noticeably puffy on one side. "Let's go." She looped her arm through mine and the castle walls blurred to nothing before turning into  a quaint little street. With the large , manicured lawns and nearly incidental houses, I was reminded sharply of Harvard. A pang of grief shot through me at that and Sif's grip tightened like a vice on my arm.

"Did that spell on your bracelet wear off?" she demanded, hazel eyes zeroing in on my face. "Should I step back in case you puke?"

I shook my head. "I'm not motion sick." Sighing, I looked at the house nearest us. It was simple, a white home with two windows and a red door. Even from the distance on the street, I could see the family moving around inside, however indistinct.  A simple and innocent sight but it filled me with foreboding. "Is this it?"

"Yep."

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

Her offer was touching but I slid my arm out of her now loose grip. This was something I had to do alone. "Could  you just wait here?"

"Of course."

"Thank you."

I walked towards the door, my ears ringing and hands shaking. Grandpa Hamada had spoken to me at length as a child about Bushido, a code of honor that had been written into his home country by samurai warriors in the feudal era. I'd barely paid attention to the lectures then, but now, I could recall all eight virtues of the code as I walked up to the house. Justice, courage, benevolence, politeness, honesty, loyalty, self-control and honor. I'd need all of those virtues to get me through this.

I reached out and knocked on the door. The red paint warm under my fingers from the late afternoon sun. There was a moments pause and then I heard footsteps. The door clicked open and a woman with russet colored skin and cornrows answered the door. "May I help you?"

I tried to breathe past the lump in my throat. "My name is Lady Suzume, we need to talk."

*******************

New chapter! Suzume has decided her verdict but the price isn't cheap. Thanks for all your support everyone, I know I don't say it often but truly, it means the world to me to know that people are enjoying my work. That somehow, I was able to make someone's day a little more enjoyable because of the voices in my head (kidding! Only slightly...) You are the best readers any author could ask for!

Write on! :)