Juniper's eye twitched as blue light strained her vision. Her right hand ached from constant, rapid motion, her head shifting as the camera oscillated from left to right. Her left middle finger pressed hard onto the key while her right hand moved the mouse like a fifth limb.
Ping
A sound from her phone. Something she didn't want to hear, an annoyance, a problem for later.
She focused, trying not to lose her fading concentration. Every kill, every experience point, every weapon she picked up gave a fleeting sense of fulfillment. Every loss, every point of damage, only mirrored the pain she felt. Constant, annoying, fidgeting, nibbling pain...
Ping
It rang again, louder this time and sharper, much clearer as her phone vibrated. But it sounded wrong, like the notification shouldn't be going off. She turned her head toward the beeping phone. Her face fell when it made a whirring buzzing sound, and she instinctively tabbed out of the game.
She leapt from her chair, grabbed the phone lying on the bed, and unlocked it with her fingerprint. She stared at the incoming message, and her heart rate spiked.
Government Message: Juniper Pinewell. Important notice. Routine remote medical check for subject Remy Pinewell overdue by 24 hours. Complete within the next 6 or risk a punitive Welfare Audit.
The government mandated alert wasn't the only one that made her read twice. A message from a dreadful witch awaited her and put her in a state of immediate unease...
Avery Reyes: Juniper, I've warned you about this a dozen times. If that code goes red, I will be forced to take action against your family. You get marked every time this happens. There are punishments, especially when you involve individuals like your sick brother. You're not immune to the system. Get him his medical needs, or we will have problems. You know what will happen to you. Be responsible.
"Fuck."
She palmed her face, rubbing slowly at her tired eyes. She knew this would happen, and she'd done nothing to prevent it. It had happened twice before, and every time, she felt too dead inside to get the job done early enough. But it was also the world's fault. Why the fuck was it her problem? Why her? It shouldn't be on her to handle three people at once, it shouldn't. But it was, and there was nothing she could do to change things, as things stand now. So she let it eat at her. She could have done something, anything, that could get her out of this situation, but she didn't.
No. No time for that time fo thinking.
She fled her room, urgently.
Juniper ran to the kitchen and flipped open the cabinet overhead. She stood on tiptoes, searching awkwardly for a medicine package: pills, syringes, anything. She found nothing.
Fudgebasket, I really fucked up.
She'd forgotten. It was her fault. She'd meant to do it yesterday morning, sometime during the day. She never got to it. One game led to another, and then snacks—then her anxiety hit. Then Euphemia and her grandmother, both constantly needing attention. It had gotten to her head.
She slammed the cabinet door shut and ran to Remy's room in frantic panic. Juniper opened his door slightly and peeked inside. She found him slumped on the bed, curled in a fetal position, eyes yellow and glassy, breathing shallow but frequent. Alive but possibly dying.
He blinked at her, then gave a weak smile.
Juniper knew that smile, and she hated it. She hated what he did to himself. He didn't seem to even care about his own wellbeing. She walked over, sat on his bed, and put her hand over her forehead. He was warm but not feverish, all things considered. Her hand on his chest felt his heart beating faster than it should. Finally, she lifted his hand: weak, almost limp.
"Remy... Remy, why didn't you say anything? Did you take all of your medication off schedule? I know I'm responsible for stacking up, but I forgot," she said. She knew it was wrong, knew she was trying to shift blame.
"I didn't want you to worry," he rasped. He coughed, then spoke again. "You need your time too, Juniper. I don't want to bother you every second of your life. I'm sure Ms. Reyes won't give a fuck."
She shook her head. "Remy, no. I'm getting your meds right away. Stay here, don't leave the room. If you need the bathroom, let Effy take you to the door at least. I'm leaving right away."
She stood up, ready to leave. He grabbed her hand before she could. His curls flooded his face, hiding his eyes.
"You should just leave a thing like me, Junie. I'm not worth the weight. You need to get out of the house, Juniper—get Effy into foster care, Naan into retirement. You can't waste your youth like this."
Foster home for Effy? Fuck no.
"No. No. No. Shut up. Just shut up. These are withdrawal symptoms speaking. You don't talk like this, Rem." She stared at him one last time and sighed. "Just stay there, okay? I'm running to the pharmacy."
Juniper hurried out, making sure to close the door behind her. She stopped for a moment, listening to him cough over and over, as if he had been holding it back when she entered. Things should have been different. It should have been her who got sick, not him.
But fate wasn't kind to any of them. She needed to get to the pharmacy quickly, and that meant...
She jogged into the living room. A pudgy and wrinkly old woman sat there with a cheap bottle of beer, taking micro-doses of alcohol, one minute at a time. Her face was expressionless, effectively dead. She may as well have been, at least that's what Juniper thought. It was a horrible thought. Every moment she stood next to the old lady, the smell of tobacco and what was probably "medical" weed burned itself into her nose.
Her grandmother sprawled on the couch, barely lucid enough to notice her. She preemptively waved Juniper off and grunted. "What ya want, dearie? Is it time for dinner yet? These beers aren't filling my tummy."
Juniper looked at what she was watching, still debating whether to rely on this old woman.
On screen was a news report: a barrage of capes stood in front of a collapsing building, all in colorful uniforms. Three of their members held a pair of civilians. They were Hope Division, a group of young adults known for heroics but also as the baseline and excuse for model superheroes. A reporter in a helicopter addressed the camera, mentioning an infiltration, a public delegation, and an attack on a group of apartment blocks.
She wasn't conscious enough to pay attention. She tuned it out. Juniper never liked their cape PR; something about it felt wrong, and she wasn't even a conspiracy theorist. Even their actual work seemed tampered with.
She stepped towards the alcoholic vegetable on the couch.
"Nana, Remy needs his meds, like, soon," she said, hoping her grandmother's maternal instinct might kick in. The woman barely stirred.
"Well, I can't drive, dearie. I'm way past the alcohol limit now. They'd lock us both up by tonight."
Juniper furrowed her brows and swore under her breath. This woman. She had nothing against her grandmother, but the woman's moods oscillated between highly functioning and a total rootplant. Call her a bitch if you want, Juniper was still reliant on her. While it was unfair to expect her to drive, she didn't have much choice. Foot traffic could be fatal under certain circumstances. She hated the idea of walking during busy days.
"Grandma, it should only take a moment. That's your first beer, right? I need you to take me to the pharmacy so I can get his prescription sorted."
The woman snorted. "Oh, silly child. He doesn't need that stuff. I already told you, the government uses it to control its patients. That's why they locked up your parents. They saw the truth of it all. Nothing will happen, dear." She put the bottle down. "Also, you're way overdue for a driver's license, Juniper."
That was a nightmare in itself. She couldn't imagine driving their car; it had seven gears, and the driver's seat was on the opposite side of the vehicle. And who would be sane enough to actually drive here.
Okay, she was being a hypocrite. Yes, but—
"But grandma..." Juniper stopped herself. She was being childish. The closest pharmacy—the specific pharmacy she was supposed to retrieve it from—was a few blocks away. The issue was that she felt uncomfortable maneuvering the frying pan that was the streets of Serraton City. It didn't help much that they lived in a rough neighborhood.
Her grandmother shook her head. "I really can't drive in this state. Call a cab if you have to. I'm too weak. Don't be a baby Juniper."
Juniper knew that wasn't true. She'd seen this woman fully drunk, many times, never making an accident. In fact... never mind. Dammit. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Juniper swallowed the hard truth. She'd messed up, and now she was trying to pass her responsibility to someone else.
She checked the time. It was 12:30 pm. The pharmacy wouldn't shut its doors until 3 pm. Okay, don't panic, Juniper. You can run the way.
Dashing into her room, she grabbed a coat. Slipped it on without a second thought. The weather was chilly, and with a chance of rain, possibly a storm, a shirt wouldn't suffice. Any storm was cozy indoors, uncomfortable when there was a horde of people outside, and at least one-in-ten were opportunists. Shadows could be her cover, but she would be jogging anyway.
She entered the kitchen again, only to find her younger sister moping at the table, fake crying. Her arms were sprawled out, and the fridge, the microwave, and all the kitchen cupboards were open. Juniper just didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with her now. They were on heavy welfare checks. Effy wanted to be spoiled, like all the other kids she knew.
"Juuunipppeeer!" Effy shouted. "I want something nice. Maybe something good to eat."
"Euphemia, there's ice cream in the fridge. I can even make you something sweet when I get back."
Juniper fixed her hair into a bun, grabbed the folder where the rest of the medicine had been placed, and pocketed a very sharp kitchen knife, stuffing it into her jacket.
"I'm sick of plain old ice cream. I can't wait that long either. I want fast food—I need a bucket of chocolate, at least," Effy moaned. "I'm sick of milk and grains, Juniper."
"I get it, I get it. Maybe when I get back, I'll grab something along the way. What do you say?"
Effy stuck out her tongue. "Maybe doesn't mean yes."
Juniper walked away, trying not to let the little goblin take too much of her attention. Effy wasn't satisfied with the answer. She ran in front of Juniper and barred the front door.
"Wait, where are you going?" Effy asked, distressed. "You didn't tell me where you're going!"
"To the pharmacy. I have to walk there. It's going to take me an hour and a half to get back, don't hold me up, please."
The little girl held her arms up. "Nuh uh, you leave when you've helped me."
Juniper pointed at her. She didn't say a word, but her finger was enough. She sidestepped the girl, who kept staring, and thankfully didn't cling to her today. When she got back, she was going to lay some ground rules again.
For the umpteenth time.
"Stay inside. Keep the door locked at all times. Help Remy if he needs something."
"What? He's a walking corpse and he can barely open his eyes. He's hopeless. How do you help someone who's hopeless? And Nana just sits there all day. You're leaving me with zombies, Juniper, and you expect me to help him. How do you help someone who can't help themselves?"
Juniper giggled. "Exactly. Ask yourself that question."
The logic wasn't lost on Euphemia. She frowned and shoved Juniper out the doorway, slamming the door shut. "I hope you get robbed!"
"Me getting robbed means no treat! Just keep that in mind."
"I take it back, I hope the lightning scares you."
"No takesies-backsies!"
Juniper shook her head. What a horrible little girl. She checked her pockets, reassuring herself: she had Remy's documents, a printed prescription, her ID, and her bank card, some on-hand cash, in case she needed it. A knife for protection, just in case. Just in case whatever happened to her in the past never happened again.
She didn't want to relive it.
She had barely taken a step outside, and rain had started drizzling. The clouds were already thundering miles away. She jogged out of the yard and onto the pavement. Their yard was unkempt, and neither she nor her grandma had called anyone in to tend to it. Not that she was lazy. She just didn't want the neighbors to stare at her. She didn't want to be seen. Being seen means getting judged for it.
The fault was hers. She neglected herself, and she was paying for it.
She didn't jog into the commercial center as she intended. The wet pavement made the walkway too slippery. The rain had intensified. The good thing was that the streets seemed to have cleared. Gang members apparently didn't fear capes, but they did fear catching the common cold. It was ludicrous to her. When it rained, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to commit crimes—sound was muffled everywhere by the rain, and the dark sky could obscure even the most advanced intelligence systems. Not that she would ever turn to gangbanging. She had morals, unlike most people.
At least, just barely.
By the time she got there, she was wet, shivering, and cold. A line had formed inside the drugstore, a long line, in fact. Their wet, muddy shoeprints were the first thing that caught her attention, the janitor working in sixty-second cleaning rounds. People didn't seem to care where they stepped.
Drying her shoes off at the entrance, she stepped inside, taking great care not to make a mess. Everyone in line was stoic, blank-faced and emotionless, except for a fidgety kid on the second line. This was normal, and yet it was off-putting. She fit right in with the crowd, but let the jacket's hood keep her face obscured.
Meds. Meds. Meds, she whispered to herself. The man in front of her seemed annoyed. He eyed her, unsatisfied by her mild irritation, but said nothing.
ZOOM
A car going three times the speed limit made everyone in the store turn their heads. The roaring engine was followed by a trail of smoke as the car blitzed by. Maniacs stuck their heads out cackling like imps.
A magenta streak blurred past, in the direction of the car, followed by a golden blur tearing through the streak. The light blinded her. Two heavily armored PARSEC enforcement vans followed. A whole of nonsense, and maybe a conundrum or two.
Another Cape brawl. You didn't bring capes and two squads of PARSEC goons for a normal car chase.
What was most surprising to Juniper was how no one seemed sensitized enough to take emergency cover or prepare for an escalating block that could blow up. No. They all stood in awe, hero worship.
"Was that Heliogirl? And Velocity?" a little boy shouted in the back, practically hopping up and down.
His assumed mother shushed him. "Be quiet. Don't be an attention whore."
Juniper wondered what it was like, the thrill of not having powers but being able to defy what was normal. Physics, reality, even. There was no point in hoping she had powers; the wrong kind was a death sentence. You were either born with it, horribly traumatized with it, or spontaneously developed it.
She listened to the conversations around her. Information on the street—gossip—traveled like lightning when the internet kept most of everything censored. High strangeness was abuzz with the things in the sky she couldn't dream of displaying.
"You hear about the blown transformer near Myrtle High? They say it wasn't even a cape."
"What then?"
"Something off-grid. Unregistered. Apparently, it's alien, maybe. Didn't sync to the Press information."
"You're bluffing, we haven't seen a Zed in 5 months. And nowwhere near Serraton"
Juniper stiffened. Zeds, Xenos, aliens, invaders. They were a touchy subject, something she didn't pay much mind to, but was affected by all the same. She'd seen them before, from afar, coming down from the outer atmosphere in all shapes and forms, causing havoc, total destruction, and then walking away like nothing had happened. It unnerved her.
But that was in the Inner core, in the Cape of Pacifica—This was Serraton, things like that didn't happen here, plain and simple.
The man in front of her tapped her shoulder before walking away. She blinked; it was her turn already. She'd barely paid attention, the line had thinned, and the person behind her wasn't amused.
She stood in front of the pharmacist, whose eyes were dead and droopy—probably from overwork. She presented the folder with her ID and said, "Here to pick up a prescription for my brother. NHRS patient."
The pharmacist pulled something from below the counter—a face scanner. He pointed it at her and clicked his fingers as if expecting her to read his mind.
"Name and surname, reason for picking up, and occupation."
She scratched her head. Did she really have to do this every time? "Um... Juniper Pinewell. Unemployed. Picking up a prescription for my younger brother, Remy Pinewell, who suffers from Neuroadaptive Harmonic Response Syndrome."
The scanner flashed yellow and the pharmacist frowned. "Says here, on record, you're a full-time student?"
Juniper flashed a fake grin. "Yeah, I dropped out. I have to take care of three people, you know how it is."
"Uh huh."
Her heart started beating faster. Usually, they didn't ask about out-of-date information. His facial expression only elevated her unease.
The man frowned again. "Ms. There's a major issue here. Your ADO identification has been flagged. You've been suspended. A full review is pending. I'd take it up with whoever placed you in charge of Mr. Pinewell. That's about all I can do. I can't authorize any medication."
That meant going through Avery Reyes.
"What?"
Her heart sank. If she didn't administer Remy's meds by tonight, she was going to have serious problems—court-level problems. "No, there has to be some kind of mistake. Check it again. Please."
"Ma'am, the system is clear. Unless there's a system-wide error, there's nothing I can do until it's fixed. Take some responsibility. Your pickup cycle ended a week ago. If I were you, I'd call your social handler and sort it out from there."
Juniper raised her voice, panicking. The last time, they'd threatened to take Effy from her and throw Remy in a medical cell. "No! Please, can't you call someone? I need those meds today."
"No. You need to leave." He said bluntly, droopy eyes now awake and tense.
Juniper didn't move an inch. The person behind her, an older man, started pushing her aggressively. "We got shit to do—get a fucking move on, lady."
She didn't budge. A blue-jacketed security guard stepped forward. "Ma'am, you need to leave the premises or we'll have to escalate the situation."
Juniper forgot to breathe. She shook her head. A dark-haired girl with a wolf-cut bob stepped forward, yanked Juniper by the arm without hesitation, and held her hand out to the security guard. Her eyes widened, and reality seemed to bounce a bit.
"Look, my friend is just distressed by what's clearly a system error. We'll leave the issue here and come back when her affairs are sorted out later."
Both the guard and the clerk were tense, but they let her go.
She barely registered what had happened. Her arms locked, to a stranger, she got dragged out before things even escalated. The security guard tailed them until they left the pharmacy. The girl pulled her through the rain; Juniper didn't know why she let herself be taken, but she did.
The faces of every worker and every public member had seen her face. Burned it into their heads. She'd live with eternal shame, had she come across these people again.
Stranger girl, had an umbrella that covered them.
Her attention turned to her "savior." She was barely dressed in this cold, arms bare, and just wearing what Juniper could barely describe as a sleeveless shirt. The tattoo on her shoulder caught her eye, a capricorn to be specific.
"They typically wait until the last refill shipment, then cut you. It's quota games. You're not being singled out, nor are you irresponsible, you're just late."
Juniper was breathless and didn't know what to say. She thought for a moment. That was a major claim, a claim worth suing over—however, she didn't have the funds to even think of proving such a thing. Meaning to say she was still powerless in the face of this problem.
She forced herself to speak. "Um, you're talking about the medicine? Right?"
"Yeah, and? The point stands. It's a standard practice."
"I need that medicine—I... my brother needs it. He has—"
"No need to explain. I heard everything."
"Then why'd you drag me out!"
"Maybe, just maybe, I know a way out."
"What?" Juniper didn't know what to think. Or if she even had the time to. Panic had turned into a minor breakdown, and now she was being dragged into something shady. "But I haven't explained much of anything. You don't know me."
"Nonsense," Tattoo girl smirked. "I know a guy—who maybe knows a guy—who can get you any kind of medicine, for a small price. Maybe even cheaper than normal."
Illegal. Stolen shipments. Raided goods. Juniper knew what she meant. No secret there. Black markets, stolen and resold meds, illegal scalpingçjust daily business in Serrington.
"Um... I don't know about all this."
"Calm down. Not pressuring you. Just saying, you have a way out. You gonna take it? That pharmacy will be closed tomorrow, if you can manage to sort whatever the fuck is wrong with the system, don't expect to be helped."
"What, no." She said it, but she knew it was probably true.
Juniper closed her eyes. Her panic had led to this, and now she was being given a sudden choice. An illegal choice. The girl with the Capricorn tattoo waited.
"Look, no pressure. But I saw what happened in there. One more minute and they'd have locked you up, slammed you away for a week. Take my suggestion or don't, just don't go back in there for your own safety."
The girl walked away. Then her guilt started eating at her, she needed to do this not just for her or for them but so Remy could walk again. So Effy could live a proper life, and so that Avery Reyes could stop terrorizing her.
Juniper blinked in surprise when she finally got a good look at her face. She was strikingly beautiful, but that wasn't why Juniper stared. She didn't know how to speak properly, and was letting an opportunity slip away.
"Which way...? My hands are tied. I'm probably fucked anyway, but I could use a way out."
She answered without hesitation, her voice echoing.
"Clearglass Avenue. Thirty-second. There's an alley near the last house on End. Walk in, tell the guards what you need, pay, get out, go home. Don't overcomplicate things. Good luck."
She turned back one more time before walking off and never looking back. Winking at Juniper.
"Oh, I forgot, try and bring some cash with you."
Capricorn girl turned and didn't look back. She disappeared into the rain, down the street. Juniper had tried calling after her—she needed to know her name—but the girl was gone.
****
Juniper made a choice.
She had half-limped her way to the alley, legs aching. She had walked more than she could really manage, it was only a couple more miles but she was where wits typically ended. The place she stepped into was heavily guarded by shady individuals: muscular men, possibly armed criminals. She was stepping into a predator's den.
Why? Because she'd gotten ahead of herself. Because she saw no other way out. Her choice to come here was conscious, but didn't everyone skirt the lines, everyone below the poverty line and even a little above?
What was she saying. Corpos didn't care about the law, why should she? Why should she?
Her escort took her through the alley. The place smelled of copper, resin, and burnt chemicals. There were posters of capes on the walls, graffiti-tagged, painted salamanders on forearms and biceps. Everything was warped, stylized—broken beer bottles stacked like target practice. Dark-tinted windows. A sewer or two with flashing neon lights inside them, probably used for tunnelrat things. Various folks moving in and out, all sketchy.
One person caught her eye: a dark-skinned man with a buzz cut, a metal arm where his real one used to be. She could only guess how he'd lost it. He lit a cigarette and eyed her, raising his chin.
Oh god. It's dangerous here. She thought to herself. Get in and get out Juniper. Get in and get out.
The guard who escorted her forced her through a small backdoor that opened into a tunnel. Another guard at the door eyed her down. There were people inside. She'd have thought it was a clinic by the way the hunched figures sat. Drug addicts, impossible to miss, even for someone as aloof as she was. A man at the door stood over her, and her nerves started to tighten.
He was doing more than standing over her.
"You don't look like you belong here. Quite the bit of weight you have on your behind." He tried touching her chest. Juniper slapped his hand away in response, a reflex. That was not allowed.
He laughed, and everyone in the clinic turned to look. He reached for her hip, before the person who had led her here shoved him away.
"Back the fuck off. Don't mess with customers." The enforcer dude had stated.
He clicked his tongue and disappeared into one of the hallways. Juniper breathed a sigh of relief, the devil was gone.
"Don't worry Miss, he can't hurt you or touch you, I'll see to that."
How reassuring, the noble thug.
The guard led her down another passage. She could smell chemistry, small booms, sizzling containers, burning and aflame. This was a drug den, or a trading post. or something fucked up and illegal.
She was brought to a room, and then he pointed to a desk at the center. Two chairs stood facing each other. A man entered behind them, mid-forties, salamander tattoos all over his body, tribal markings, a cheap suit, no costume. He didn't raise a hand, just pointed to a small cardboard box in the corner and snapped his fingers. The box combusted. She flinched, afraid.
A CAPE! A FUCKING CAPE! Her eyes were wide, and googly.
Juniper, you dumb, dumb bitch. You walked into a cape gang's asshole. Oh fuck, can I turn around? Can't I turn around?
"Take a seat, Ms.?"
Shit. Do I give my real name? No. That would be horrible.
She tried to think of something. A name not from her family, something familiar but distant, something personal.
"P—Paige," she shivered.
She reluctantly pressed herself into the seat and took a deep breath. She was in the devil's hole now. The man approached, his face rough, a scar beneath his eye. He'd seen his fair share of battles, Juniper bet.
"So, what can I do for you? You're here to buy."
"Yes—" she started, stopped, thought it over, and spoke again. "Yes. I need Hexdrine-3Lr, Halpryline, Neurectra."
The man whistled, very loudly. He kicked his feet onto the desk. "That's some very specific stuff. And I already know why you're buying it—and by the looks of it, it isn't for you. Why all the effort to walk into a Salamander base. Answer me."
She took a deep breath. "A girl with a capricorn tattoo sent me here, I was in need and she noticed. And no, it's for a family member."
The assumed leader of these supposed Salamanders gave a knowing glance to his "employee."
"Everyone's got a sob story. Don't worry, I'm not here to judge. Just here to do business." He gestured at the guard. "You got all that?"
"Yeah. E-chems. We get them in batches. Everyone who comes here, similar problems. Business as usual."
"Well, fuck, go get it then," the man said, raising his voice. "What do I pay you for."
He turned his attention to her, as the escort left. "Willing to sell it for you for eighty percent of the original price, with a catch."
Oh no. Of course, something sketchy is involved.
"I—I'm listening."
"Next time you come buy, I'll only sell it for you at full price. That means market value, stock value."
She nodded. "I understand." She had no intention of coming back here. Zero intention.
"One last caveat. You're not familiar with the crime world, and guess what? You already fucked up. You came in here without a disguise, without concealing your face. 'Ms. Paige.' But we're ethical folks. We care for our people, for this neighborhood. We have your face—if you go snitching, we've got a couple of heads in the police, one or two in PARSEC. We'll know, 'Paige.' We'll know."
Dammit, Juniper, how could you fuck up so badly.
"I know that look on your face." He held up a finger, and it burst into flame out of thin air. "If you're not a cape, a spy, a rat, or a pig, you shouldn't have anything to worry about. Seriously, you have my assurances."
The guard came back and put a pack on the table. He held out his hand, and she placed the notes in it. A total of 1,910 Pacen. That was food money gone in one swipe, for something she should have gotten with a prescription. Effy was going to hate her when she came back with nothing; she'd have to cut down on spending to make it up.
She took the bag, standing up but waiting for a reaction from them. There was none, just mild irritation.
"You can go now, 'Ms. Paige.' Go on."
Taking the bag, she exited the room, retraced her steps into the alley. Its denizens stared at her. She just robbed herself, twice. She could manage, she could swindle, she'd find a way to get that money back, somehow. She was almost safe. She just needed to leave the alley and get home quick. Give Remy the medicine under the monitor. Then go to sleep for a while.
Almost.
A hand grabbed her shoulder, and she froze.
Her heart nearly stopped.
She instinctively remembered, she'd brought a knife along, she held it tight. Ready to slash away.
A man whispered a name. The voice, it was someone's she recognized. "Juniper?"
She turned, and her face dropped. A familiar man stood behind her. Greyed out beard and hair, and a beer gut to boot. Her uncle stood over her. The "bad" one, the one she was taught to avoid. Here, of all places.
"Uncle Vincenzo?"
He grabbed her arm and started half-jogging with her out of the alley. The guards ignored them, making it clear he was familiar with the place. He was well-dressed compared to the others, car keys in his hand.
When they were out of earshot, she couldn't bear to face him, buying a black-market dosage of drugs. He was going to have a lot of questions, he was going to have problems with it, and they'd get nowhere.
"Juniper, what the fuck are you doing here?"
Her voice died down. She couldn't speak. She didn't know where to start.
"Come with me, quick!"5Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJql8mt2mKT
