"𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓈𝓈𝓊𝓇ℯ, 𝓅𝓊𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃' 𝒹ℴ𝓌𝓃 ℴ𝓃 𝓂ℯ"

"So, the Walcott's were the first. At least, the first that we know about. Four murders. Sean, his brother, and their parents. They were killed by a professional assassin called The Mute. Weapon of choice, a military tomahawk. But then The Mute was killed by Peter Hale, after he tried to blow up Derek with a claymore mine. Next was Demarco. He delivered a keg to the party at Lydia's lake house and got decapitated outside his car." Stiles sighs. "And then last night, twenty-three year old Carrie Hudson."

Two days have passed since the full moon. And across those forty-eight hours, an alarming number of bodies had been discovered. The common denominator? They've all been supernatural.

"It's a dead pool," Scott emphasises anxiously. "A hit list of supernatural creatures." He pulls out the folded pieces of paper from his jacket and hands them to Sheriff Stilinski. "This is only part of it... The rest still has to be decoded."

Noah scans the list and nervously looks back up to the three teenagers stood before him. Two out of the three are on the dead pool. "Who found this list?" he asks.

"Lydia," Ophelia answers. Her heart breaks for her best friend. Lydia's trying so hard to get a handle on her banshee abilities. Sure, she's had grimoires and ancient books Freya has passed along to her, but books can only do so much. To really understand how to use her powers to their full potential, Lydia needs another banshee at her side.

"How?"

The hybrid sighs. "Well, she wrote it."

"Actually, she transcribed it," Stiles corrects. "Without realising it..."

"Banshee?"

Ophelia nods. "Banshee," she confirms.

"Beautiful." The man returns to the list, asking possibly one of the most important questions. "All right, what are these numbers next to the names?"

"We're getting to that," Stiles responds with a nod. "First, you need to know that the code was broken with a cipher key."

"Wait. You mean, like a... like a key word?"

"It's actually a name," Stiles replies hesitantly. He casts a glance over to the brunette to find her jaw clenched tightly.

"Allison," Scott says softly.

The office is silent for a few moments as they let Noah process the information. Even just mentioning the fallen Argent's name is like a punch to the gut for all of them. Ophelia finds it fitting, really. She's the reason Allison is dead, and now Allison could be part of the reason why she would take her last breath.

Stiles clears his throat. "Her name broke a third of the list," he continues.

"And now we think that there's two other cipher keys," Scott adds quietly.

"Which will give us the rest of the names," the Sheriff finishes with a nod. "Okay. So, how do we get the cipher keys?"

"The same way we got the code," Stiles replies.

"Lydia," Ophelia states. "She stayed at the lake house over the weekend trying to figure them out." When the Sheriff glances to her questioningly, she sighs. "Nothing."

She, Malia, and Kira had watched the banshee kneel by the record player for hours on end as she had listened to the whispers provided by the vinyl, whispers that of course only she could hear. Lydia was silently becoming more and more frustrated, and they could all tell when it was time to stop. So, Ophelia had driven her best friend home and stayed the night with her, trying to take her mind off the pressure of discovering the cipher keys.

The Sheriff rifles through the crime scene photos of the related murders, each more graphic than the previous. It makes them all realise that these people, these assassins, will do just about anything to complete the kill. "You didn't know about Demarco or Carrie," he checks. "Hm?" The teens shake their heads. "And what about these other two names on the list? Uh, Kayleen Bettcher and Elias Town. They werewolves, too?"

Both Ophelia and Scott quickly share a look with each other. "No clue," she responds. "I've never heard of them."

"But Deaton did say that the Nemeton would draw supernatural creatures here," Scott points out.

"Here being Beacon Hills? Or Beacon County? The population of Beacon Hills is just under thirty thousand."

"And dropping," Stiles comments.

Ophelia snorts a laugh and Noah turns to look at his son with an unamused expression. "But if we're talking Beacon County, then you're looking at closer to five-hundred thousand." He drops down into his desk chair. "Look, how many werewolves, banshees, vampires, kitsunes, and whatever the hell else is out there are we talking about? And what happens if the next cipher key uncovers not twelve names, but one hundred?"

"We don't think there would be that many," Stiles insists, attempting to ease his father's worry. "There's a limit."

"Because of the numbers," Scott adds. "We think that once we decode the names, the numbers will add up to a hundred and ninety-seven."

Noah looks between them all in disbelief. "A hundred and ninety-seven what?"

"Million."

"Personally, I think we should kill everyone on this thing," Ophelia states bluntly. Stiles rolls his eyes. "Make a bit of side cash."

Scott turns to her with a blank face. He's finally getting used to her murderous side comments. "When did you become the official spokesperson for Beacon Hills?" he asks dryly.

"Pretty recently, actually. I'm like the Lorax, but I speak for all of us instead of the trees."

Stiles grabs a pen and begins to assign letters next to each number on the list: T for thousand, and M for million. Once he writes the M beside her own name, her eyes are unable to remove from it. Ophelia Stone is worth eighty million dollars.

"One hundred and ninety-seven million dollars, Dad." He places the cap back on the pen.

The girl grins. "Peter was robbed," she says with a snicker.

Noah's eyes widen and Stiles tries to expand on her simple wording. "It was stolen from the Hale vault and is being used by someone to finance all these murders."

"Someone who wants every supernatural in Beacon Hills dead," Scott adds gravely.

"The Benefactor."

The Sheriff then points out the obvious. "I think the most alarming part is that Fi is sixty million higher than Scott," he says, glancing between the two with a grim expression. "That's a big jump."

Naturally, the prospect of a dead pool with herself holding the number one spot doesn't scare Ophelia Stone at all. Almost her entire life she had grown up with her family being the most wanted in the world of the supernatural. The Mikaelsons had been sprinting away from the grasping hands of death for as long as they could remember. She's not scared of someone trying to kill her; hell, she's more than used to that. What she's scared of is someone trying to kill her friends.

"I'll be fine," she states confidently. She sighs at the apprehension they all look at her with. "Really, I've survived this long without dying. That should say something." Stiles reluctantly nods to acknowledge her point. "Plus, they're all gonna be humans. Easy targets." Her eyes flick over to the Stilinskis. "No offence."

Noah sighs. "So, the list goes out," he begins. "And somehow these professional assassins get that list."

"And a cipher key."

"And then they go after the names on the list. They being... killers with no mouths, tomahawks, thermos-cut wires that can take your head off..."

Suddenly, Stiles notices a strange hexagonal shape that has been imprinted in the skin surrounding the stab wounds on Carrie's body. "What's this mark?" he asks his father, pointing to the photo.

"We're not sure yet," Noah replies. "We're still waiting on the ME's report. There's one other thing I don't get," he says as he shuffles through the photographs. "How did this new assassin know that Demarco was going to be at the lake house?"

Scott shrugs. "Everyone knows he delivers kegs to teenagers for a little extra cash."

He squints his eyes at the information. Atop of all the added supernatural murders happening in his town, there's also plenty of people still committing regular illegal crimes. "Ah." He looks back down to the list. "So, whoever ordered that keg killed Demarco."

"Yeah, it was someone at the party," Stiles confirms.

"A student."

"We really can't catch a break, can we?" she mutters.

Stiles raises a brow at her. "Just move back to wherever your family is, then."

Ophelia Stone smiles. "Nah, I can't leave you guys," she admits. "You'd all be dead after a day without me."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Malia and Ophelia had been watching Lydia stare at a blank sketchpad in the art room for half an hour. The goal is to try and see if the banshee can attempt to try automatic writing again. It's not working very well. They had sat in silence to give Lydia the space she needed until Malia became so impatient that she finally moved up from her chair.

As Lydia slowly brings the pencil to the paper, Ophelia watches in amusement as Malia moves behind the banshee's other shoulder, standing with her face just inches away from Lydia's. "Please stop hovering," the strawberry blonde finally requests.

"I'm not hovering," Malia defends herself. "I'm waiting. Draw something. Write something. We need to know who else is on that list."

Ophelia raises a brow. "You mean that you need to know if you're on the list," she corrects.

Malia sighs and she turns around to look at her pointedly. "If someone's coming to take my head off, then, yeah, I'd like to know."

Lydia takes a deep breath and returns the pencil to the paper. However, Malia moves with her, her chin hovering straight above the girl's shoulders. Lydia screws her eyes shut in frustration. "Can you please just sit down? Be like Fi." she snaps irritably. "You're making me nervous."

"Fi knows she's on the list," Malia argues as she returns to her chair next to the hybrid. "And it's not like she cares she's on it!"

"And Fi is right here," the girl in question states. Malia glances to her apologetically. "Lyds, take your time," she tells her best friend softly. "It's okay if you need a break." Lydia's eyes flick over to her and she nods.

Ophelia briefly turns her attention over to Malia who is aimlessly flipping through one of the books to try and distract herself from the want to intensely watch the banshee. Ophelia's lips lift into a smile as she watches Lydia's eyes close once more and she moves the pencil back. But right before she's about to mark the paper, Malia calls out her name. "Lydia."

"What?" When she doesn't respond, Lydia looks over to the girls impatiently. "Oh, my God, what?"

Malia moves the book over so she can see. "Maybe we need help," she suggests.

Ophelia glances down to the picture of a screaming woman, then back up to Lydia. "From another banshee," she says quietly.

She sighs as she meets Ophelia's green eyes. "Meredith." After a phone call to the reception of Eichen House, they quickly discover that visiting Meredith isn't going to be as easy as they initially thought. "Eichen House says Meredith can't have visitors without permission from a family member," Lydia explains as they all walk down the staircase.

Malia, remembering her time back in the facility, adds, "That's not gonna be easy since her whole family is dead."

Lydia sighs. "Perfect," she proclaims.

Ophelia loops her arm through the banshee's and gives her a small smile. She can sense the sheer anger and frustration radiating off the girl related to the involuntary nature of her powers. "I'll go and compel the entire building if that's what it'll take to speak to her," she says firmly. Lydia's eyes soften slightly as she looks to her, silently saying, Thank you.

However, Malia isn't aware of how much resilience Lydia has left regarding the situation. "Okay, maybe we go back to the art room?" she suggests.

"Take it easy," Ophelia murmurs to her.

But Malia doesn't hear her. "Or music room?"

Lydia whirls around to face the werecoyote. "I'm not plucking piano strings for two hours waiting for some supernatural inspiration."

"Fine," she concedes. "What else do banshees do?"

"You think I know?" Malia raises her eyebrows. Lydia closes her eyes for a few seconds. "I can't just turn this on! I'm not like you guys. I don't have claws, or fangs, glowing eyes, or super senses." Ophelia feels her heart fracture at how distressed the girl is. "I just have voices in my head."

Malia immediately feels incredibly guilty for having pushed her too far, and as she glances around, she notices that multiple students have paused after hearing Lydia's last sentence. When the banshee walks off without another word, she quickly goes to follow her, but stops when Ophelia places a hand on her arm. "Let me talk to her for a minute," she says softly. "It's okay, you didn't know. Come find us in five, okay?" Malia swallows and nods.

Ophelia rushes after her best friend, following her through the double doors and outside. The fresh air whips through her hair as she frowns in concern upon hearing Lydia's short breaths. She sounds like she's almost hyperventilating. She watches Lydia suddenly stop by a tree and hears a sob catches in her throat as she drops down to the ground.

And Ophelia falls down beside her. Instantly, Lydia knows who it is. Tears fall down her flushed cheeks as the older girl pulls her into her lap, running her fingers through her hair as she quietly cries. "It's okay," the Stone whispers. "It's okay, Lyds. You're okay."

Lydia Martin is one of the most important people in her life. Ophelia would slaughter a hundred people if it meant she could give the girl just a sliver of happiness. Seeing her so distraught makes her feel horrible. And the worst part about it is that there's not much she can do to help. All she can do at the moment is just be there for her. To support her. To remind her that it's okay to fail or not get something right. Lydia is being weighed down by a mountain of pressure from the people around her; they're all counting on her to discover the remaining cipher keys. Ophelia can't even imagine what that must be like.

Meredith seems like the natural next step. And Ophelia would do just about anything for both banshees to talk.

On her journey to find Scott and Stiles to fill them in on their current situation with the cipher keys, Ophelia walks past the boys' locker room and hesitates once she hears familiar voices inside Coach's office. She pokes her head inside the room to find the boys along with Kira frantically searching through all the lacrosse sticks. "Uh, what the hell are you doing?" she calls out in confusion.

Stiles barely looks her way as he answers, "The killer's on the team. They used a lacrosse stick, that's why there were those weird marks on Carrie's body."

Ophelia closes the door behind her, still not fully understanding their intentions. "And... they, what, stabbed her with the stick?"

Scott nods. "Exactly."

She blinks. "Okay and was there some sort of dagger attached to the end of the stick?" she asks sarcastically.

"Yep."

Her eyes widen. "I mean, at least they're creative assassins."

Scott pulls the rubber off the end of the final lacrosse stick and sighs in frustration upon finding no sharp weapon. "This... this is pointless," he voices. "Most of the team plays with their own gear."

"Maybe instead of trying to find a lacrosse stick with a hidden dagger in it, we should be trying to get the game cancelled," Kira suggests.

"The game's the best way to catch them red-handed," Scott argues.

"But what if they're red-handed 'cause their hands are covered in the blood of the person that they just stabbed to death?"

The hybrid nods to Stiles. "That's a good point."

"Which, by the way, could be any of you guys," he continues.

"Or Liam," Scott realises quietly. "We don't have the whole list and he could be on it." Ophelia arches a brow at his use of 'could.' To her, it's certain that Liam Dunbar is on the dead pool. They have to expect that all of them are.

"We don't know anything about the list," Stiles retorts with a gesture of his hands. "How it's made, how it's updated." Scott shakes his head tiredly. "I mean, who's been out taking a supernatural census anyway?"

"That's actually a really good question," Ophelia admits in confusion. "Is that even a thing?"

"How do they even know about me?" Kira asks.

"They know about all of us," Scott states.

After a moment of careful consideration, Stiles sighs. "I think Kira's right," he admits. "I think we should stop the game."

Scott turns to look his best friend in the eye. "I'm not afraid," he says.

"Neither am I," Kira replies.

Ophelia blinks. "You should be!" she shrieks. Kira and Scott glance to her. "All of you are going to die way before me, so yes, you both should be scared shitless!"

Stiles vigorously nods in agreement. "Well, I'm terrified," he exclaims. "And I'm not even on the list! Guys, these are professional killers. It's their profession!"

Scott's brows furrow as he turns back around to the girl. "Fi, are you really not worried about this?"

She shrugs. "Not at all. Welcome to a day in the life of the Mikaelson family." Her lips purse for a second. "But I am scared for you. None of you can fight, except for Kira. She's bloody awesome." The kitsune sends a bright smile her way.

Stiles shakes his head incredulously at how even something as dire as a dead pool doesn't make her slightly, just slightly, terrified for her life. "One of them has a thermal-cut wire that cuts heads off!" he stresses. He turns to look pointedly at the hybrid. "That's one of the only two ways you can die!"

"Bold of you to assume they'll get the chance to use it on me."

"Look, the point is, who knows what else they have?"

With the school day finally over, Ophelia heads outside with the boys to go to her car. She had promised Lydia they would spend the night together, just them, and take some much-needed time to eat junk food and watch movies. However, as soon as they walk outside, they're immediately drawn to the crowd of students beside the rival lacrosse teams' bus, Devenford Prep.

The three teens stop to watch Liam talk with one of his ex-school mates. "I just wanted to say... have a great game."

However, when Liam extends his hand as a peace offering, the boy, Brett, bursts out laughing. "That's cute, Liam! Is that what they told you to say in Anger Management?"

"Oh, I do not like this bastard," she mutters. As she glances over to Scott, she finds his jaw clenched, restraining himself to let his Beta deal with the situation on his own.

"Apologise and everything's fine? You demolished Coach's car."

Ophelia suddenly stills. Stiles nudges her side gently. "What's wrong?" he questions, all of their eyes still on the two boys who continue talking heatedly.

"Blood," she replies. Scott's eyes follow her own to find Liam's fists clenched tightly, his claws digging so deeply into his palms that blood drips onto the ground.

And that's when they all jump into action.

Both Scott and Ophelia take one of Liam's arms to guide him backward as Stiles quickly jumps in front of them to talk to the lacrosse players. "Hey, what's going on prep students?" he greets cheerfully. "Welcome to our little public high school. How you doing?"

Ophelia tries to keep her breathing shallow so she doesn't inhale the scent of blood for too long. "You're okay, Fi," Scott murmurs to her.

She nods to reassure herself and tries to focus on Stiles' hilarious attempt to be the welcome mascot but is once again distracted when realising that Brett's eyes are trained solely on her. Looking at him with a deep scowl, she meets his gaze. "You look at me for another second, I'll rip your eyes out of your bloody skull," she snaps.

Stiles' eyes widen in alarm and he quickly holds his hand out to the student, not letting his smile falter even when it's not taken. "Stiles," he introduces himself. "That's a firm handshake you got there! Uh, we're very excited for the scrimmage tonight. Uh, but let's keep it clean, all right? No rough stuff out there. All right, see you out on the field." He spins around to the three behind him and as calmly as he can, says, "Go."

The second they get inside the locker room, the shower is turned on and they push Liam under the ice cold water. As Ophelia watches Stiles and Scott struggle to keep the partially wolfed out Liam still, she rolls her eyes and strides over. "Move," she instructs. Once they step aside, she grabs onto both of Liam's shoulders and shoves him against the tiled wall to keep the water on his face. But she grimaces when the younger boy roars directly into her face, and she blinks the spit out from her eyes. "Disgusting," she mumbles.

"You calm yet?" Stiles speaks over the sound of the running water.

In response, Liam roars again. However, despite his best attempts, he's unable to remove himself from her tight grip. Liam falls back against the wall breathing heavily as he manages to say, "Okay! Okay."

Cautiously, she removes her hands off his body and takes a few steps back to give him space as Stiles hurries over and turns the shower off. Liam slides down the wall and onto the floor, giving the girl a thankful nod as she throws him a towel.

"That car you smashed," Scott begins with furrowed brows. "I thought you said that was your teacher's?"

The newly turned Beta looks between the three as he admits, "He was also my coach. He benched me for the entire season."

Stiles shares an uneasy glance with Scott. "What did you do?" the True Alpha questions.

"I got a couple of red cards."

Ophelia's eyes widen. Yeah, she had underestimated just how much anger he had harbouring inside him.

"Just a couple?" Stiles chides.

Whilst Liam briefly looks at the Stilinski with guilt and shame, Scott crouches before him. "You gotta be honest with us," he tells the boy. "What else happened?"

"Nothing," Liam exclaims defensively.

Ophelia points to her ear. "The truth, please."

He swallows and lowers his head to look at his hands. "I got kicked out of school," he reveals quietly. "They sent me to a psychologist for an evaluation."

"What did they call it?"

"Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

Stiles shakes his head in disbelief. "I.E.D? You're literally an I.E.D? That's great. That's great!" He turns to Scott. "You gave superpowers to a walking time bomb," he says with a wink and a thumbs up.

Ophelia's eyes narrow and she walks over to him. "Hey, Stiles?" she calls out.

"Hm?" When he looks to her and takes in her visible irritation, his eyes widen in alarm.

And then she slaps him.

"Ow!" he shrieks, clutching his cheek in pain as he stumbles to the side. "Fi, what the- son of a bitch!"

Ophelia's eyes twinkle and she looks to Liam who has a small smile adorning his face. "Sorry, kid, just ignore him. He's a real asshole."

"Did they give you anything for it?" Scott asks, ignoring how Stiles continues to curse in pain in the background.

"Risperdal," he answers. "It's an antipsychotic." Sensing what is about to be said, Ophelia's head whips over to Stiles and she gives him a strong glare. He pales slightly at the combination of disappointment and anger still etched on her face and nods. "But I don't take it," Liam continues.

"Sometimes pills do more harm than good," she says in understanding.

Liam nods his head. "I can't play lacrosse on it," he explains. "It makes me too tired."

Scott sighs. "Okay. I think you should bail out of the game," he tells him honestly. "Tell Coach your leg is still hurting."

"No!" Liam immediately protests. "No." When he stands up, shoes squeaking against the wet floor, Scott follows. "I can do this," he states confidently. He looks to his Alpha. "Especially if you're there." Stiles rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead in frustration.

Although, wanting to keep Liam out of any potential danger, Scott is still adamant on his answer. "But, Liam, it's not just about the game." He glances to his friends. "We think whoever killed Demarco... might be on our team."

Liam shakes his head in confusion. "Who's Demarco?"

"The one who brought the beer to the party," Stiles responds. "You know, the guy who was beheaded. Remember?"

"We think the person who ordered the keg killed Demarco," Scott adds.

Liam's eyebrows knit together as his eyes flick to the ground, like something inside his brain has clicked. Ophelia takes a step closer to him. "Liam? What is it?"

The boy hesitates for a second. "I don't know who ordered the keg," he confesses. "But I know who paid for it."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Due to having promised Lydia that they would spend the rest of the day together, neither of them was going to the lacrosse game. Which, to Ophelia, was completely fine because then that meant she was keeping the banshee out of the firing line from teenage assassins. They're half a tub of ice-cream and two Harry Potter movies into the evening before their time is interrupted by a call from Noah Stilinski. He quickly informs them that Meredith Walker had escaped Eichen House (again) and walked all the way down to the high school where Parrish had intercepted her. Apparently, she had confessed that she was looking for Lydia. It's like she knew they wanted to see her.

So, after calling Malia to meet them down there, the three girls walk into the station. "I'm aware this is probably about the dead pool," Noah greets them. "But I can't let her leave the station. And in about a minute, I'm gonna have to call Eichen House and let them know that she's here."

"Give us an hour," Lydia pleads.

"You got fifteen minutes."

Whilst Lydia refrains rolling her eyes, Ophelia gives the man an appreciative glance before following the two girls inside the office. They find Meredith seated on the leather couch. She looks up when they enter, eyes lingering on Ophelia's face for a moment before they flick over to Lydia's.

A minute later, Stilinski and Parrish join them, the latter shutting the door behind him. "Ask what you need to ask," Noah tells them.

Remembering what Ophelia had told her a while ago about how Meredith had used phones to access her banshee abilities, Lydia hands her phone to the girl with a small smile. With a nod, Meredith takes it from her with her own knowing smile in return. After a moment of just watching her hold it, Lydia asks, "Meredith, aren't you going to answer it?"

The curly-haired girl slowly stands up and moves closer to Lydia's ear. "It's not ringing," she whispers kindly.

Ophelia's eyebrows furrow. Malia leans over to her to mutter, "Isn't she supposed to-"

"Yeah, I thought so," the hybrid murmurs in respond. "Apparently not." She hears Lydia inhale a sharp breath as she tries to keep herself together, and Ophelia knows that she's frustrated about the amount of patience that will be required to work with Meredith. She gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.

The strawberry blonde takes another deep breath and crouches before the fellow banshee. "Meredith, you came here to help us, remember?"

"You called me," Meredith says. All three girls stare at her.

"What do you mean I called you?" Lydia asks in confusion.

"I heard you!" she replies simply.

"Meredith, can I ask you a question?" Everyone turns to look at Deputy Parrish. She nods. The man kneels beside Lydia so he can talk to Meredith at eye level. "When you need help, when you need to find something, is there someone you reach out to? Maybe someone you call?"

"It depends," Meredith responds. "Different people for different things."

"So, maybe there's a number that can help us," Parrish continues. "Someone we can call."

"Yes."

"Would you be okay telling us?"

"Yes." Lydia gently takes her phone out of Meredith's hands, prepared to enter the digits. "It's two... four." She squints her eyes in concentration. "Three... six."

When she stops speaking, the trio of girls stare at her. "Meredith, we need a couple more numbers," Ophelia says.

She looks between them. "No," she states. Lydia closes her eyes. "That's the number."

"Phone numbers are ten digits," Malia tells her.

"That's the number," she repeats insistently.

"Meredith," Lydia interrupts. Ophelia's eyes fill with worry as she realises that her best friend is incredibly close to snapping again. "Phone numbers always have ten digits."

"That's the number."

"Meredith-"

With a collective nod, Ophelia and Noah move forward to the girl. "Lydia," he says. She reluctantly lets Ophelia pull her off the floor. "Hey, come here." He leads them a few metres away from Meredith. "I think that's the best we're gonna get."

Lydia shakes her head slightly. "No," she whispers. "There has to be more."

Ophelia shares a look with Malia as she places a hand on Lydia's arm. "Love-"

The banshee whirls around. "What's the rest of it, Meredith?" she presses impatiently. "Hm?" Meredith flinches. "Just concentrate!"

Visibly distressed, Meredith stutters, "But that's- that's- that's the number."

"Just concentrate!"

"That's... That's the number."

Whilst Parrish and the Sheriff comfort Meredith who continues repeats the sentence over and over, Ophelia takes Lydia's hand and leads her to the other side of the office, Malia close behind them. "Love, she's telling the truth," she tells her softly. She feels her heart clench at the tears of frustration watering in Lydia's eyes. "Stop beating yourself up about this."

Lydia meets her eyes and a tear falls. "I just don't get it," she replies quietly. Once Meredith has been escorted out and they are finally left alone, Lydia drops down onto the couch in defeat.

As Ophelia lets the girl curl up in her lap like earlier that day, Malia stares intensely at the four numbers they had written down on a piece of paper. Two, four, three, six. She grabs it and scrunches it up into a ball, but then her gaze falls onto telephone sitting on the desk. "Lydia, what if it's like algebra?" Both of her friends look up at her in confusion. Malia brings the landline over to them. "What if the numbers are actually letters?" she suggests.

Lydia quickly shoots up and grabs her notebook off the desk, jotting down the letters belonging to each respective number. Her friends stand over her, watching as realisation dawns upon her. "Oh, God," she murmurs. And Ophelia works it out after the A and I are circled.

Lydia grabs her laptop, allowing the code to load for a second before she quickly types in the cipher key. AIDEN. She gives the girls a nervous look before she hits enter, immediately unlocking the next third of the dead pool. Malia breathes a sigh of relief when she realises that she's not on the list, whilst Lydia, naturally, looks horrified.

But what shocks Ophelia Stone the most is the name printed at the bottom. She looks out the blinds of the window to the bullpen of the station, finding both the deputy and Sheriff still with Meredith. Feeling eyes on him, Jordan Parrish turns around and offers Ophelia a small, awkward smile. She doesn't reciprocate it. He's worth five million dollars. How the hell didn't she see that coming?

𝘞𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘍𝘪 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘰𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯