𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘔𝘺 𝘍𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵

THE WHITE GLOW OF THE full moon shines above the girl as she rushes through the bushes and dense trees around her. Her eyes squint as she struggles to see directly in front of her; the only source of light available was from above. It could almost be described as serene. Ignoring the chill that went down her spine as the temperature decreased, the girl's heart rate does the opposite. A deafening roar in the distance crushes the tranquil ambiance of the woods, and she yells out, "Scott, hold on!"

She pushes her legs to go faster, and takes a deep breath in through her nose and exhales out through her parted lips. Just like Coach had taught them for cross country. However, as soon as she reaches the source of the sound, she skids to a stop, almost tripping over her own feet.

Her eyes widen in horror at the scene before her. "Allison, stop," she cries out desperately. Her throat burns from the tears already welling in her eyes. But it's too late. She's too late. Her best friend pulls the trigger on the pistol and the bullet goes cleanly through Scott McCall's forehead. The gun drops to the ground, and the girl soon follows. Her knees give out beneath her and she collapses, her eyes refusing to leave the corpse of the boy despite how much she wills them to.

Then an ear-shattering scream of despair leaves her mouth.

"Charlotte! Charlotte, wake up!" Natalie and Lydia Martin frantically try to wake up the screaming girl from her nightmare. This wasn't unusual for them. It used to happen around once a week. First, it was just the nightmares. But then they developed into night terrors and sleep paralysis. Charlotte Martin had been plagued by the disturbances for as long as she could remember. Strong sobs wrack through her body as Natalie pulls her shaking daughter into her lap. She threads her fingers through the blonde hair as she whispers soothing comforts. "It's okay, baby, I'm here."

Lydia watches from the door frame with tears streaking her cheeks. It never gets any easier, watching your loved one go through so much pain yet not being able to do anything to help them. They aren't sure what Charlotte would dream about, they never were. She never told them. The next day it wouldn't be brought up again, and if asked, she would say she was fine. Then it would be left alone.

But something about this was different. Something had triggered them. Something had triggered Charlotte so strongly that this was the fifth occurrence this week that she was waking up screaming.

»»———-　　———-««

The ride to school the next day is silent. Lydia had practically forced her sister to let her drive. It isn't an awkward silence, but it isn't comfortable either. The question that the younger twin wants to ask lingers in the air like a storm cloud above them, just waiting to burst. Sighing, Charlotte turns in her seat and raises her eyebrows at the girl. "Okay. What is it?"

Lydia clears her throat and momentarily takes her eyes off the road. "Are you okay?" she asks softly. "I know you don't like us asking, but last night, you really scared Mom and I..."

Charlotte focuses her eyes on her hair tie as she creates shapes. This one's a butterfly. "It's not my fault, you know," she voices quietly after a minute of silence.

Eyes widening, Lydia looks to her in shock. "Hey! No, I know," she reassures her gently. "I'm sorry if that's how it came across."

She sighs again. "Lydia, don't look at me like that, like you feel sorry for me." She swallows. "You know I don't like to make a big deal about it."

The strawberry blonde pulls the car over to the side of the road and fully turns to face her. Charlotte's eyes widen in surprise when she is pulled into a tight embrace. Lydia couldn't possibly understand what her sister was going through, so she didn't try to. The funny thing is, even if you go through the same situation as someone else, you experience it completely differently. The emotional aftereffects could look so divergent, an outsider wouldn't even know that both of those two people had gone through the same event together. Everyone processes things differently from one another. Because no human is the same.

Their father divorcing their mother years ago had been the beginning of many problems. It could be what started the siblings' psychological issues. They had trauma. But they didn't like to talk about it. In fact, they never talked about it.

And in this moment, Charlotte completely understands the saying that you don't need to talk to be understood by someone. All she had needed was someone to just be there. Right now, her sister is that person. "Thanks," she whispers as a single tear slips down her cheek. Wiping it away before Lydia can notice, she pulls back.

The car starts up once again and the siblings go on with their day as if nothing had happened.

Lydia wouldn't ever know, but just that one single action, that one hug, brought Charlotte more comfort throughout the day than anything else possibly could have.

»»———-　　———-««

It's eight at night later that day when Lydia had dragged her sister along to come with her and Jackson to rent a movie. In Lydia's words it was so she could 'have an extra vote towards her choice.' Without a doubt Charlotte knew it would be The Notebook. It's always The Notebook. Always. Shockingly, she wasn't sick of the film yet. She wonders if she ever would be...

"No."

Jackson's eye twitches. "I swear to God, you're gonna like it."

"No."

"Lydia, I am not watching The Notebook again."

Charlotte looks up from her phone and raises her eyebrows at the boy from the backseat. "Dude, c'mon, you're definitely watching The Notebook again." With his cheeks scarlet from vexation, once again, she swears on her life that she sees steam trailing out of his ears. It's a wonderful sight.

Without another word, Jackson Whittemore gets out of the car, slams the door so harshly that the vehicle shakes, then stomps off to the store. The girls take one look at each other then burst into fits of giggles.

Twenty minutes pass and Jackson has still not returned to the car. Charlotte looks up to her sister in the front and immediately ducks as a reflex as the girl tries to take a selfie with her in it. Lydia pouts. "Lottie, come on!"

"Over my dead body," she retorts. It's silent. Then again, they burst into laughter. However, the joy only lasts for a few seconds as their attention is drawn to the video store when the doors burst open.

Something that looks like what should only appear in folktales and children's nightmares runs out of the building. Its piercing ruby eyes bore into their souls as it runs out on all fours, and heads straight toward them. Both girls let out loud screams of terror as the creature jumps on top of the car, then gallops off into the distance.

Breathing heavily, Charlotte grips onto Lydia's hand tighter. "What the flying fuck was that?" she shrieks.

It's not long before the ambulance pulls up. Paramedics escort the two shell-shocked teenage girls over to their emergency vehicle and check them over for any physical injuries. Sitting beside her sister who is wrapped in a blanket, Charlotte barely notices the Sheriff's car arrive at the scene. Dozens of people have crowded around the taped off area, trying to get a better look at what had happened. But she does look up when she hears Noah Stilinski, and of course, he who will not be named, arguing. It's something about not being able to leave until getting checked by paramedics, and in the process, unsurprisingly, he manages to insult her best friend's father's job.

"Woah. Woah! Is that a dead body?" Charlotte scans the area to find the familiar voice and she spots Stiles standing next to his dad's car. They lock eyes and he rushes over to her in worry. "Hey, what the hell are you doing here?" He turns to see Lydia next to her and stammers out, "He- Hey Lydia..."

When she ignores him, Charlotte gives him a small smile. "We're okay, Stiles." He frowns and a more serious demeanour takes over her. Once making sure Lydia has walked off and can't overhear, she continues. "But what happened here isn't. I think we saw the Alpha."

"You?" he questions incredulously. "You saw the Alpha? As in, werewolf Alpha?"

"Yep, just said that."

"As in the Alpha?"

"I'll say it again, emphasising the 'think.' I think that Lydia and I," she motions to her sister who has now joined a still pissed off Jackson, "saw the Alpha."

He scoffs. "Of course it was you."

»»———-　　———-««

Today was special. The Martin twins had recently learnt that it was Allison Argent's seventeenth birthday. So, naturally, Lydia had crafted an exceptional plan to deliver her a surprise before school. It involved with her and her sister getting to Beacon High an hour before everyone else. Charlotte had never hated balloons more than right now. She despises them with everything in her. But, to her credit, she had inflated twenty in ten minutes. Then the hammer hit the nail. Lydia pointed out that twenty balloons obviously wasn't going to fit in a locker. In any locker. Hence the current anger toward any and every balloon.

However, as Charlotte watches from a distance as Allison arrives to the scene, it's all worth it. The brunette opens the door and is immediately greeted with multicoloured balloons leaving the confines of the locker. With wide eyes of shock, Allison frantically shoves them back inside as quickly as she can. Charlotte giggles and joins her. "Happy birthday," she drawls out cheerfully.

Allison spins around with a playful glare on her face. "How did you even find out?"

The girl clears her throat. "I know you don't like celebrating... But you know Lydia and I..." She grins. "We had to make a little bit of a big deal... Plus it's part of the code to know when your new best friend's birthday is."

Allison breaks into a large smile and wraps her into a hug. "Thank you so much," she whispers into her ear.

"I only found your combination; Lydia did the rest."

She pulls away from the embrace with surprise etched across her soft features. "My code?" she questions. She waves a hand in dismissal. "You know what? I'm not even going to ask."

Charlotte rocks back and forth on her heels as she nods. "Good call." Her eyes flick down to Allison's neck and she smiles. "Is that new?" She points to the necklace. "I haven't seen you wear it before."

Allison reaches down and picks up the brass pendant in her hands. "This? My aunt Kate gave it to me as a present."

Charlotte's eyes widen as she gently grabs it with her fingers and studies the detailed engraving in the centre. Funnily enough, it looks like a wolf. She hides her frown with another smile and pushes the discovery aside. "Well, I'll see you later Miss Seventeen! Scott wants to take you somewhere," she adds, raising her brows up and down suggestively.

Allison laughs and gives the girl one last hug, "Thanks, Charlie, and tell Lydia the same. Really, it means a lot."

Charlotte nods and sends her a wave as she passes Scott down the corridor, the boy making his way over to where she had just left. "Have fun," she winks at him. He sends a large, beaming smile to her. Turning back, she sees Allison greet him with a kiss and she watches them walk away. She smiles as to herself and continues down the hall to chemistry.

»»———-　　———-««

"Just a friendly reminder: parent teacher conferences are tonight. Students below a C- average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self disgust should be more than enough punishment." Charlotte turns to Stiles seated beside her and stifles a laugh at how his highlighter lid in his mouth whilst he highlights a paragraph, then the next. Adrian Harris stops before the pair and narrows his eyes. "Has anyone seen Scott McCall?"

They glance at each other, look up to the man, and innocently shake their heads.

The door opens and Jackson enters. Charlotte watches Harris walks up to him, places a hand on his shoulder and whispers something. She rolls her eyes at the dramatic late entrance. As their teacher walks back to the front of the classroom he calls out, "Everyone start reading chapter nine. Mr Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a colouring book." This time Charlotte does laugh, and she slaps a hand over her mouth when the class turns to look at her. "Miss Martin, is something funny?"

"No," she quickly says. "No, no, it's all good here."

Stiles spits the lid out and catches it, leaning over the girl to reach Danny who is sitting in front of them. "Hey, Danny, can I ask you a question?"

"No," he replies instantly.

Charlotte pushes Stiles away from her, only for him to lean over again. She scowls. "Well, I'm gonna anyway. Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?"

"No."

"Stiles, you could have asked me that."

He scoffs and continues. "Can I ask you another question?"

"Answer's still no." Charlotte grins at Danny's response as she tries to read.

"Did Jackson tell you what happened last night?"

"Didn't Charlie tell you what happened last night?"

Nodding her head slowly, she whispers, "He's got a point."

Stiles rolls his eyes impatiently. His fingers drum against the surface of his desk. "Well?"

Danny hesitantly replies, "He wouldn't tell me."

The two behind him look to each other briefly in surprise. "But he's your best friend!" Stiles points out in confusion. Danny shrugs. The boy with the buzzcut purses his lips together. "One more question."

"What?"

"Do you find me attractive?"

She watches Stiles' mouth stay open after speaking and he leans forward closer to Danny. She barks another loud laugh, not even bothering to hide it this time, as Stiles falls off his chair. Mr Harris looks up to her from his desk and glares. Charlotte sighs, sends him a thumbs up, and nods. "See you in detention, Mr H."

»»———-　　———-««

Detention was filled with one of the most gruelling hours of silence Charlotte had ever sat through in her entire life. It was so uncomfortable that she considered jumping out the window. She decided that the school probably didn't need to deal with another body on the premises. As soon as Harris' timer rings, she gives him a mocking smile, grabs her books, and sprints out the classroom as fast as possible. Once she gets outside, it doesn't take long to spot Stiles leaning against his Jeep and waiting for her. "Have fun?" he asks.

"Oh, it was a blast. Today we reached a new record." He raises his eyebrows, and she grins. "Fifteen minutes of solid glaring."

He hums. "And what was the previous time?"

"Fourteen and ten seconds."

The boy snickers and high-fives her as they jump into the car. Now on the way to the Stilinski residence, Scott is placed onto speaker phone when he finally returns Charlotte's many missed calls. "What?"

She scoffs at his impatient, snappy tone. "All right, calm your farm," she scolds lightly.

Stiles waves a hand in the air. "Finally!" he yells. Charlotte smacks his shoulder at the volume. He winces apologetically. "Have you been getting any of our texts?"

"Yeah... Like nine million from the both of you combined."

Charlotte grins at the phone. "Having fun with Allison?" she teases.

They can practically hear Scott roll his eyes. "Shut up," he retorts shortly.

"Do you have any idea what's going on down here, Scott?" Stiles begins to quickly explain their current situation. "Lydia is MIA, although Charlie says she's at home, Jackson looks like he's got a fucking time bomb inserted in his face-"

Charlotte snorts. "When does he not," she says.

Stiles nods. "Good point. And another random guy's dead, and the point is, you have to do something about it!"

"Like what? What could I possibly do?"

"Something!" his friends echo.

"Okay! I'll deal with it later- left, left, left, left, left!"

The phone hangs up. The driver momentarily looks to the girl beside him in confusion. "Any idea what the multiple lefts mean?"

"He's with Allison," she replies.

His mouth gapes open. After a few seconds, he nods. "Of course. Girlfriend before dead bodies."

Charlotte kisses her teeth. "The boy's got priorities, man. Priorities."

The following five minutes consist of Stiles incessantly protesting to go visit Lydia and see how she is doing. Charlotte had agreed after the first thirty seconds, but apparently he hadn't heard her. She'd decided to let him continue. It was entertaining.

She takes the key out of her pocket to unlock the front door. "Mom's not home and Lyds is upstairs," she tells her best friend. Stiles nods at her words. "Hey, Dee," she calls up the stairs to her sister as they venture to the first floor. "Stiles and I are here to see you." Swinging the bedroom door open, the pair are greeted by the girl with strawberry blonde hair sprawled across her bed on her stomach. Charlotte shakes her head at the revealing pyjamas clinging to her twin's body. She takes a single look at her best friend, and she sighs. "Oh, man, here we go," she murmurs.

Lydia's eyes flick between them. "What the hell is a 'Stiles'?" she slurs out in confusion.

Another look at Stiles, and Charlotte has to bite onto her lip to stop a laugh from slipping out. "Mom said she took some meds for the anxiety," she mutters to him. She pulls the desk chair over to the bed and frowns at the state her sister is in. "Hey, Lyds," she says softly.

"What are you doing here?" the girl retorts.

"We wanted to make sure you were okay," Stiles replies for the both of them.

Lydia looks up and pats the bed next to her. "Why?"

Charlotte stays silent and lets Stiles take over the conversation. He sits down where Lydia had gestured him to. "Because I was worried about you today."

A smile lifts at her lips when Charlotte hears the 'I' instead of 'we.' She wishes her sister could see how much he genuinely cares about her. She'd much rather Stiles to be with her instead of Jackson. She clears her throat. "How're you feeling?"

Lydia's hand waves into the air before landing on Stiles' shoulder. Charlotte grins at his expression when her sister leans up to him, her face close to his lips as she answers, "I feel... fantastic."

Charlotte raises her eyebrows. "Really?" Her smile falls as she grabs the pill bottle on the bedside table and notices how many are actually left. She sighs. "Great..."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "I bet you can't say, 'I saw Susie sitting in a shoe-shine shop' ten times fast."

They watch the girl try to complete the challenge. "I saw Shuzy... I shaw..." It's as if Lydia suddenly snaps out of her high and her voice is clearer as she slowly says, "I saw..."

Stiles and Charlotte glance at each other. Maybe Lydia does remember what they saw last night. The older Martin twin had thought she had forgotten, maybe due to the shock, as her sister didn't mention a single thing about it this morning. Their mother could obviously see how much of a toll the event had taken on her mental state, so Lydia was politely yet firmly told to stay home. Upon being offered the same, Charlotte had to decline. After all, she was in the known of what had jumped atop of their car...

"Lydia, what did you see?" Stiles questions her urgently.

"Not now," Charlotte mutters warningly.

"Something..."

"Something... like a mountain lion?" Stiles presses. His friend shakes her head at what he had come up with.

Lydia dazedly responds, "A mountain lion..." She nods. "A mountain lion."

They look to each other again, and after sighing, Charlotte grabs Raff off the bedside table; her sister's stuffed giraffe. "Dee? What's this?" she asks the girl.

"A mountain lion..."

Charlotte stifles her chuckle. "You are so high."

Lydia lays a hand on Stiles' thigh, and Stiles turns to his best friend in bewilderment. Muffled laughter leaves her lips. He stands up and Charlotte swaps with him, now the one seated on the bed. "Are you gonna be okay by yourself? Mom's coming home soon." She brushes a strand of hair out of Lydia's eye and pockets the almost empty pill bottle.

"Mhm..." Charlotte stands up, not before placing a kiss to her head, and she nods to Stiles for them to leave. "Stay," Lydia suddenly calls out. The almost closed door suddenly flies open and Stiles strides in, leaving the blonde in the hallway with an amused smile as she watches the interaction.

"Me stay? You-you want me to stay?"

Lydia sits up and pats the bed again. "Mhm. Yes please, stay." The girl trails her hands up to Stiles' cheeks. Pursing her lips, Charlotte goes forward to grab the boy but pauses when Lydia adds, "Please, Jackson. Stay."

Charlotte snorts as Stiles abruptly stands up. "And we're done here," he deadpans. Looking back, Lydia has passed out on the bed.

"So close, bud. So close." He glares at her until their attention moves over to Lydia's phone that vibrates next to Raff. Stiles slowly turns back over to his friend.

She shakes her head vigorously in disapproval. "No," she says firmly. "Stiles, no."

"Do you want me to get that?" he asks Lydia. When he receives no response, he grabs the phone, ignoring Charlotte's continued protests. "It's a text, I don't know how to..." When he falls silent, the blonde huffs a sigh and motions for him to walk over. He throws the device into her hands and Charlotte watches a video on the phone.

The video pauses on a frame. The image is blurred, but it doesn't matter. She would recognise that thing anywhere. "That's it," she whispers. She swallows. "That's what we saw," she tells him. "She must have accidentally recorded it." Stiles grabs the phone from her and puts it in his pocket as he drags her out of Lydia's room. She sighs and drags a hand down her face. "Fine. But you deal with the consequences."

He shrugs. "Obviously."

»»———-　　———-««

Now in Stiles' bedroom, Charlotte lies on her back on his floor whilst listening to the boy leave yet another voicemail to the absent werewolf. "Scott, it's me again-"

"With Charlie!" she yells.

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Look, we found something, and we don't know what to do. So if you could turn your phone on right now, it would be greatly appreciated. And I get being with Allison is important, yes, Lottie told me. Or else-"

"We'll kill you, McCall!"

"What she said. And right now, I'm too tired to come up with an incredibly descriptive example of exactly how I'm go-"

"We!"

"Yep, how we are going to kill you, but it's going to happen, okay? Ugh! Goodbye. God!" Stiles groans and she breaks into laughter.

However, both of the teenagers immediately freeze when they notice the sudden presence leaning on the doorframe. "Charlie," he greets her.

Charlotte smiles. "Hey, Sheriff!"

Noah narrows his eyes at his son. "Please, please tell me I'm gonna hear good news at this parent teacher thing tonight."

"... Depends on how you define 'good news,' Dad."

"I define it as you getting straight As with no behavioural issues."

Charlotte's eyebrows raise in amusement. "Yeah right," she mutters, but she quickly covers it up with a cough when Stiles turns to glare at her.

"You might wanna rethink that definition," the boy hesitantly tells his father.

The Sheriff sighs. "Enough said."

As he walks out, Stiles looks to his best friend with a scowl. "Thanks."

She gives him a thumbs up. "You're welcome."

He picks up Lydia's phone from the desk and deletes the video and screenshot of the creature that Charlotte is almost one-hundred percent sure is the Alpha. She looks pointedly at him and he sighs. "What?"

"You're returning that to my sister. And if she finds out you took it, I had absolutely nothing to do with it."

»»———-　　———-««

"Let me tell you, there is plenty to say about Charlotte and Lydia."

Natalie Martin's ex-husband sighs. "Did I not predict this?" he tells the woman.

"Here we go! Total nuclear meltdown as usual," she replies with a scowl. She turns back to the teacher with a smile before the man continues on,

"What is it this time? Their grades? Concentration issues? Reckless behaviour? Skipping classes with those two boys?"

"I'm not the one who told them they had to choose who they want to live with! As if that wouldn't warp a sixteen year old girl."

"Just tell us what the problem is."

The teacher chuckles slightly and awkwardly smiles at the parents. "I wasn't aware there was a problem." Natalie sends a smug smile to her ex. "Academically, Charlotte and Lydia are two of the best students I've ever had. Both of their AP scores push their GPAs above a 5.0. Actually, I'd love to have their IQs tested. Socially, Lydia displays outstanding leadership qualities. She's a real leader. And Charlotte? I could almost describe her the same way. Sure, there is the occasional detention or two with Mr Stilinski and Mr McCall-"

"I told you!" the man jeers.

"But in the social aspect, Charlotte is just like her sister. The few negative comments are outweighed by everything else. You both have some remarkable girls."

»»———-　　———-««

Knocking on the door to her sister's bedroom once again, Charlotte softly calls out, "Hey, Lyds?"

Footsteps pad on the carpet behind, then the strawberry blonde opens the door. She motions for her to come in. "Mom still at the school?" she questions, returning to her previous place at her mirror.

Charlotte nods and flops down onto the bed. "Yup." It's quiet for a minute. "Hey, about earlier with Stiles..."

Lydia turns around with her lips dipped into a confused frown. "Earlier? Stiles?"

Right, she was high. "Oh, never mind," she dismisses casually. Trying to turn the conversation around with the only way she currently knows how to distract her sister, she reluctantly asks, "How's Jackson doing?"

Lydia drops the bottle of moisturiser on the dresser and comes over to sit cross legged beside her sister. "I don't know," she honestly answers. "He won't talk to me about anything."

Charlotte frowns sympathetically and Lydia lies down, her head in her sister's lap as a loose strand of hair begins to be plaited. "Maybe he feels like he can't?" she suggests quietly. "Sometimes if people are struggling, they can't exactly understand what they're feeling, so how could they possibly put it into words for someone else, you know? Maybe Jackson doesn't know what to say to you. Maybe he feels like he has to maintain this 'tough guy' imagine to everyone, so he doesn't end up worrying them."

At her ramble, Lydia looks up to her sister with wide eyes, the girl unaware of the shock on her face as she continues staring at the wall. "Are you feeling okay?"

Charlotte's eyes flick down. "Yeah, why?"

"It's just, I've never heard you talk about Jackson so much in a week. Let alone defend him? And actually call him Jackson?" Lydia gets up to grab the tub of ice cream that is already open on her bedside table.

"Because it's exactly how I feel," she mutters.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦'𝘴. 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘩𝘢