A/N: This is probably one of the longest chapters I've written. But I feel like I owe it to you guys, since I made you wait this long for an update 😅 anyways, enjoy!

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Like any overprotective father would do when he and his child were being hunted by ninja assassins, Seth drove Talia to school this morning. He didn't even wait for his daughter to have her say in the matter; it wasn't a request, but a requirement. Talia knew that there was no changing his mind, so she went along with it. Besides, maybe it wasn't all bad. Now that she was alone with him, she could take advantage of the few minutes she had to talk about the things they didn't get the chance to last night.

"Abba, can I ask you something?" Talia asked when her father made a left turn.

Her father gave her the side-eye before replying, "You already did."

Talia made a 'pfft' sound. "No, I mean, like, an actual question."

"An actual question? There are no actual questions. Just questions."

"I. . . this may sound a little bizarre and unexpected, but. . ."

Talia took a moment to collect the words she was going to say out loud inside of her head. Her father was clearly waiting for her question.

Finally, Talia asked: "Are you okay?"

Seth blinked a couple times. He was not expecting that question in particular. He was so taken aback, that he didn't know what to say for the first few moments.

"Why do you ask?"

Talia frowned. Her phone vibrated from inside her backpack. She checked it, and it was a message from April, asking of her whereabouts. Talia sent her a quick reply before setting her phone aside.

"Abba, with the things that have happened in our lives so far. . . losing our home, losing Imma, and now being hunted by a ninja leader and his assassins. . . this is as hard for me as it is for you. I just want to know how you're feeling."

Seth looked straight ahead of him, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Of all days, why did there have to be so much traffic today? "What about you?" He turned Talia's question against her. "If I had to guess, the nightlights in your room are because you have nightmares— nightmares about her. Her death follows you."

Talia couldn't help but sigh when her father completely ignored her question. "I did say that I've been having trouble trying to make peace with sleeping. But you did not answer my question. Are you okay?"

The light turned green. Seth almost immediately slammed his foot on the accelerator. "I am fine, dewdrop. You don't have to worry about me; it should be the other way around."

Talia folded her arms in disbelief. "You're my father. How can I not worry about you? You won't talk about Imma, especially not with me, and you lock yourself away at work. I really think you should talk to someone and that's why I say that we should try grief counseling."

Seth gripped the wheel once hearing the word 'grief counseling'. "I don't need to talk to a therapist about my feelings. This is my problem and my problem alone."

"But you shouldn't go through it alone," Talia said in an almost whisper-like voice. "We both lost someone dear to us, did we not?"

Seth remained silent after that. For some reason, him not inputting anything to the conversation hurt Talia even more. Those once fuzzy gray eyes that she took after him were now as hard and dull as a stone; he was cold and closed-off.

They pulled up in front of the school. Talia saw April waiting for her near the steps, so she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door. She would've expected for her father to say 'I love you' or 'Have a good day at school' or some other farewell, but he didn't.

So she got out and slammed the door shut.

April jogged up to her, taking off her beanie. "Hey, so you know the other day when we read the summary of my dad's old case, right?" she said when she approached Talia. "Well, after you left, I continued digging deeper and I think I know why your mom took an interest in that case, so—" she abruptly stopped when she heard Talia sigh— something that Talia never did in all the years that they knew each other. If she did sigh, it was usually because she was happy.

But today wasn't the case. "We should get going, April," Talia said glumly. "We'll be late for class."

***

It was always easy for Talia to daydream and almost never come out of it. It would happen multiple times when she was on the road, at home, and at school. Either she would be fantasizing about some silly crush she had, living her dream as a historian, or what life would be like once she got married and had kids. This often placed her at the receiving end of her teachers' scolding, even complaining one time to her parents that her head was 'in the clouds.' So Talia had to be less like a balloon and more like the hand that kept her here on Earth.

Only now, she found herself falling into her whirlpool of thoughts, with none of those thoughts about past crushes, careers, or future families. She was thinking about her dream from last night, or rather, memory. She didn't look too young, so she deduced the memory was from a few years ago— one or two at best. But that was the problem. If that memory took place not so long ago, then why couldn't she remember? Why was she wearing clothes she never owned before? Why couldn't she remember being in the car with her mother and driving on the Brooklyn Bridge? Her life was beginning to look like a complicated puzzle she would never figure out.

"Miss Talia? Talia Elbaz?"

The voice sounded like it came from far away, but it became louder and louder until. . .

SLAP! Something smooth and hard hit against Talia's desk. It turned out to be her teacher, Mrs. Hensley, arms crossed over her chest, staring down at her with a disapproved look on her face, and holding a yardstick in her hand.

Talia was now the center of attention. She said, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hensley, what?"

Mrs. Hensley's disapproving frown made Talia sorry she ever said that. "Were you even paying attention to anything I said?"

"No, Mrs. Hensley. I apologize."

"And why not?"

"I. . ." Talia could only look at her hands. She couldn't just explain to her teacher that she was thinking about other matters at hand. Her teacher would not take that for an answer. "I was. . . um. . ."

"Hmph. I expect all of my AP students to keep their head in the game, since it is what you signed up for. Today you might be #1 in my class, but tomorrow you could very well be at the bottom of the line. You got that, Miss Head-in-the-clouds?"

Talia blushed as she heard some of her fellow classmates snicker. Mrs. Hensley wrote a few things on the chalkboard (which, Talia thought her teacher was the only one in the entire school to still use chalkboards. She had heard that Mrs. Hensley was a little 'old-fashioned')— questions the class had to answer pertaining the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade.

Still, part of her was half-heartedly working on the assignment. Her thoughts were starting to drive her crazy. Just what could she do to figure this all out?

***

The school day was almost coming to an end, and Talia officially broke the record of how many times she could get scolded for daydreaming during class in a day: ten times. It had never gotten this bad before. The most amount she got was three. She feared one more strike and her teachers were going to contact her father.

This is all because of this unsolved mystery. . .

She shook her head. The sooner she found the answers, the better.

Talia entered her seventh class, which was English III, and saw Raph already in his seat. When he noticed her, he quickly motioned with his hand to sit down at the empty desk next to him. She was a little confused, but she did so anyway. Besides, she needed to talk to him.

"Since when did you have the same class as me?" Raph questioned.

"All juniors have to take English III," Talia said.

"That's not what I mean. Like, I thought you had it a different hour?"

"I've always had it seventh hour."

"Then how come I. . . argh, nevermind. It seems I'm getting stalked these days," he muttered his last sentence.

Talia heard it, though. "Stalked? What do you mean?"

Raph glanced at the doorway. "Dude coming in. Look discreetly."

And so Talia did. She was a little surprised when it turned out to be a somewhat familiar guy with earbuds jammed in his ears.

"I thought he was a freshman," she said.

"Wait, you know him?"

"Well, no, but I did bump into him on the first day. I think he thought I was going to pick on him."

Raph and Talia saw how the earbuds guy sat in the very back and paid heed to no one. It was like nothing else existed except him and the music he was listening to.

"He's in every single one of my classes and he always sits next to me, even if there are other empty seats," Raph spoke in a way only he and Talia could hear. "I mean, what do you call that?"

"That doesn't sound like a stalker to me," Talia frowned.

"Really? What are the odds of seeing the exact same guy in all eight of your classes? Like Donnie would say: 'one out of ten that shit would happen'."

"Coincidences can happen." Talia shrugged. "Us humans tend to hang out or be near people who look similar in appearance in order to bring a sense of comfort— especially in a new environment. If he's new, then seeing another Asian like yourself in a school predominantly full of white kids makes him feel like he's not alone."

Raph stared at Talia in stunned silence. "How do you know all this?"

"I learned about it in psychology. You have to admit— the way the human psyche works sometimes is fascinating to learn."

"For a minute there, you sounded like somebody else."

"I did? Who?"

Raph waved his hand dismissively. "In due time, you'll see. But anyways, it doesn't change the fact that the guy gives me weird vibes. I can't prove it yet, but I think he was spying on me in the bathroom the other day."

"Spying? Him? What makes you say that?"

"Like I said, I can't prove it, but I know it was him. The only question is why."

"Aww, maybe he wants to be friends with you." Talia broke into a little smile.

"Then he's got a funny way of showing it," Raph scoffed.

"Talk to him, then. Be the first to approach. Communicate."

"Communicate?"

Talia cocked her head, like she was trying to figure something out, and pointed her finger at herself and then at Raph. "You know, like what we're doing. You spark a conversation and if it flows nicely, then-"

"I know what communicate means," Raph grumbled. Talia could tell he was trying not to blush. "But why would I do that? There's no way he and I are going to be friends."

Talia quickly looked over her shoulder at the guy. He was now humming a tune of some sort.

"Only time will tell," she decided. She then realized it was her chance to ask him, so she said: "now that we're talking, I have to ask you-"

She was cut off by the sound of the bell, indicating that class had started.

"On second thought, maybe later." Talia took out a pencil and a notebook.

Raph was about to say something, but their English teacher beat him first. Everyone started their bellwork, with their teacher breathing down their necks to make sure they were doing the task at hand.

I have to find a way to ask him. This can't wait. For her sake, Talia pretended to put all of her energy into writing her answers on her paper.

Today was a continuation of the discussion over one of the famous short stories known to man: Rip Van Winkle by Washington Irving. Talia didn't know what it was about at first, but soon enough, the story about a man returning to his town after a drunken slumber and finding it changed, along with its recurring themes, intrigued her. Change was inevitable, but just because something may not look like how you remembered it, didn't mean it wasn't the same— just like how Van Winkle realized that, although the town's inn now had a picture of George Washington rather than King George, the inn still remained in the same place.

But when she uncovered the symbolism in the story, she somehow felt that it resonated with her. Rip Van Winkle symbolized the American Colonies living under British rule, while his wife represented Great Britain. Talia read that after Van Winkle woke up twenty years later, his wife is finally dead, thus freeing him from his misery— just like how the thirteen colonies were finally free from the English. Anyone could have something or someone bothering them for as long as they lived on earth, but nothing lasts forever; eventually, one would be freed from their turmoils. No one could say for certain how long it would take, whether it be years or if it would happen when you were long dead, but at some point in time one would be free.

Talia looked at the copy of her Rip Van Winkle in her hand. Would the dust ever settle with The Foot? Would she ever have all the answers to all of her questions in her own bare hands? Would she ever get Oroku Saki out of hiding and give him justice for taking her mother's life?

Time was both her salvation and destruction.

She gingerly glanced at Raph, who was busy writing away.

"I get the feeling they're not being honest with us. Like, come on. Why else would your mom keep that flash drive hidden in a secret- let me emphasize, secret compartment?"

April's words from the day they discovered the warehouse came back in order to make Talia think twice before going ahead with her plan. For a second, she went ahead with April's theory. Even if the Hamato family weren't being honest with her about the drive and they probably would withhold information about the ketamine, she still had to ask. It was all she could think about. If she didn't get an answer, she would probably go mad.

Talia took an exhale and made her decision. She wrote, 'Make up an excuse and meet me in the hallway. We have to talk' on a blank sheet of paper coming from her scribble pad and, as discreetly and quickly as possible, passed it to Raph's desk. She even tugged at his blazer's sleeve in case he didn't see.

He turned to look at her before noticing the note. He skimmed it over and then wrote something quickly, passing it back to Talia.

Raph's response was: 'Now?'

Talia wrote back with: 'Yes, now.' She passed the note again to Raph, praying that nobody, especially their teacher, would notice the note-exchanging party happening in the back.

Talia got up from her seat, smoothed out her skirt, and did her best formal walk to her teacher's desk. Her teacher, Mrs. Ripley, who was typing at a Godspeed pace on her laptop, said without looking up, "Do you need something, Miss Talia?"

"I need to go to the nurse's office." Talia didn't have time to rack her brain for an idea, so she came up with the first one that popped in her head. She then clutched her stomach and faked a pained expression. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but she had to roll with it. "It's an emergency."

"You seemed fine a few minutes ago. Why now?"

"Um, er, yes, but. . ." Talia leaned her body forward, as if wanting to share a secret with her teacher. "As you see. . . the red peony bloomed," she whispered, signaling with her eyes to get her point across.

She figured if there was a lie any teacher (especially a female teacher) would fall for, it was 'the time of the month' lie. April would always use it to avoid certain activities in P.E., but Talia could never do it. Not only because it would be lying (something she was highly uncomfortable doing), but because she didn't get her period. Or at least, she didn't have a normal cycle. In fact, the last time she got her period was six months ago— something that Talia saw no reason to worry over. When she confided this with April, her best friend looked outraged. The redhead claimed it wasn't fair her menstruation cycle was so unfair to her.

"Oh, my." The teacher widened her eyes a bit. "Yes, yes. Run along. Don't take too long!"

Talia smiled. She hoped she wouldn't have to do this again. On her way to the door, she met her eyes with Raph, telling him her final message with one look. Now all she had to do was find a good talking spot. . .

***

"Okay, what gives, Talia? I had to lie saying I had to some chronic intestinal disease that causes my bladder to act up every thirty minutes!"

Seeing that there was no other place where they could resume their conversation in private, Talia and Raph had no choice but to settle in the janitor's closet. It reeked of bleach and toilet bowl cleaner. There was a rack with various cleaning supplies strewn on each shelf, with even liquid oozing out of the few uncapped bottles. In the corner, a broom and mop kept each other company.

"I'm sorry, but this is important," Talia said. "I wouldn't know when the right time to talk to you would be because I don't know your schedule. And I couldn't do it at lunchtime because April was there. I couldn't ask this in front of her."

"What's wrong with her, anyway?" Raph frowned. "She's being more passive aggressive than usual and she's acting as if Mikey and I have something to hide."

Talia stared at an empty bottle of windshield wiper. "Are you?" She asked.

"No! What would we hide, anyway?"

"You've known her longer than I did. So you know that if she suspects you're lying, then she won't let it go unless there is hardcore evidence that you aren't. Like my mother's flash drive, for instance."

There was a shift in Raph's posture when the words 'my mother's flash drive' were said. However, he did his best to recuperate and replied, "Yeah, what about it? We said there wasn't anything on it."

One half of Talia's lips twisted into a frown. "Do you know why I specifically came to you instead of Mikey? Donnie? Leo?"

Raph smiled sarcastically. "Because I'm such a nice person?"

"The youngest of siblings tend to differentiate themselves from their bigger, faster, and smarter older siblings by being rebellious. I think you're no exception. You have a different streak than your older brothers and sister."

"I didn't strike you as a psychologist."

"As said, it is nice to know some facts in that area. But going back to what I said, I could see it when you were arguing with Leonardo after you chased that Foot soldier. Something tells me obedience doesn't come naturally to you."

"You know," Raph said, chuckling sardonically, "why bother paying several fucking dollars for therapy when you're literally right here? And free, too! That's something you don't see everyday."

"April guessed that you guys are deliberately not telling me about what you found on the flash drive," Talia continued, "and that if I were to ask about the ketamine, you wouldn't tell me, either. So let's just say it's true, right? If you and your siblings had your way, you would've told me and April by now. But you didn't. My guess is that the orders came from your father. Now, maybe your siblings would never tell a peep, but maybe you would."

Raph didn't know whether to be impressed or shocked. He was left dumbstruck. It was a little scary to think about it, but he imagined if Talia were a completely different person, she would put those skills to good use for nefarious reasons— stealing deep, dark secrets for blackmail didn't seem far out of reach.

"If you don't want to say, then you don't have to. I won't force you to tell me. But that won't stop me from trying to find the truth myself." A fire of determination blazed in Talia's eyes. "If your mother was murdered, leaving behind unanswered questions because you didn't know her as well as you thought you did, wouldn't you want the truth? If it meant you could protect your family?"

Raph tightly gripped the cuffs from his blazer. Talia feared she might've stepped out of line with her last paragraph, given that his mother really was dead. How could she say that without thinking? Now she felt terrible.

But Raph knew Talia was right. It wasn't like he could lock Talia in a cage to stop her from swimming deeper into the sea. Eventually, she would find out— potentially at the cost of her own life. Did he really want her death to be on his conscience? Did any of his family members? Besides, it wasn't like he wouldn't do the same thing, either. He and Talia shared a common enemy, and so working together could bring them the answers they desperately wanted. Everyone could be satisfied at the end.

"Okay, look," Raph said, which surprised Talia. So he was going to talk after all? "I'm only going to tell you because I don't want to be responsible for you being reckless and it results in your death at the hand of The Shredder. My dad would beat my ass. Which, he'll still beat my ass if he ever knew I passed this information to you, but it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?"

Talia nodded, barely containing her excitement. "What do you know?"

"The ketamine didn't turn out to be useless," Raph began to explain. "Turns out your mom ordered enough ketamine to build her own hospital from some shady pharmaceutical company. Donnie tried to trace it, but no dice. So he looked deeper and found another location that was also stocking on ketamine— a brownstone in Brooklyn. Your mom visited it frequently, actually."

"She did? Who was she visiting?"

"That's the thing— no one was living in that brownstone. According to your mom, some kind of drug operation is ran in there. She didn't say what specific drug is being manufactured, but I think it has something to do with the ketamine."

Ketamine is mainly used as an an anesthetic, Talia thought hard. If someone used it illegally. . . no, it couldn't be. . .

"You say 'is' and not 'was'. Who runs it?" Talia questioned.

Raph parted his lips, but no words came out. He crossed his arms. "I don't know if I should tell you or not."

Talia thought she misunderstood something. "I thought you said you were going to tell me everything you knew."

"If I tell you, you might get more scared than you already are."

Fair point, but she wasn't going to say that. She didn't want Raph to think she couldn't handle it.

"If it involves my mother, I have to know," she insisted. "Does The Shredder run it?"

Raph rubbed his neck. "Not him. A drug lord— Russian. Irina. . . Michael. . . something."

Talia took a step back. "A drug lord? But. . . my mother despises drug lords! She told me that all they do is poison communities with their drugs!"

"Then why the hell was your mom knowingly and willingly at a drug lord's laboratory? If you ask me, that is the complete opposite of what a person who 'despises' drug lords would do."

"How do you know she went willingly? What if she was forced? Threatened?"

Talia didn't like the way Raph was looking at her. It almost like. . . he felt sorry for her— like he was about to confirm a horrible news story.

"We can't do this here." Raph shook his head. "It's too much to process."

"But I have to know! Please."

"Talia, you look like you're going to faint."

The best thing for Talia would've been to sit down, but she couldn't. The truth was more important. "Then. . . hand me your phone," she said.

Raph raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

"I'm not going to break it," she promised. "But this conversation isn't over. You owe me that much."

Raph sighed. In any other situation, this kind of persistence would annoy him, but it was understandable coming from Talia. The poor girl lost her mother and was only trying to to sort out the pieces that had been left in Genesis's wake. Was it fair? Of course it wasn't. But did Talia seem to think it was her responsibility? Absolutely.

"It smells like shit in here and you're too stubborn to even argue with you." Raph gave up. He took out his phone and handed it to Talia.

"Um. . . it's locked." Talia held up the phone. "Do you think you can. . . unlock it?"

"Right." He punched in his passcode.

Talia immediately went for the phone app— where all of Raph's contacts were stored— and after some typing, returned the phone to Raph.

Raph regarded his phone suspiciously, as if Talia had given him a plate of dynamite. "What did you do?" he questioned.

"You officially have my number now." Talia smiled. "Feel free to call anytime."

"Oh, in case you need me?" That was meant to be sarcastic, but Raph thought Talia missed out on it.

"No, to communicate," Talia said. "Common interests bring people together. In our case, it's to learn more about the connection between my mother and The Shredder. And who knows? Maybe through this ordeal, we can be friends."

Raph shrugged. "We'll see."

Talia nodded. "We should probably head out now, right?"

Raph was already way ahead of her. He went straight for the door and flung it open. "God forbid one of the hall monitors see us leaving together. They like to think all kinds of things."

Talia laughed awkwardly. It wasn't like he was wrong.