[✔️] 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝑂𝐹 𝑀𝐸 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐒, 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓
"𝑅𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑙."
—𝑊𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆𝑐𝑜𝑡𝑡, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑖𝑑-𝐿𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑎𝑛

𝐈
— 𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 —

𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎'𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 as he peered through the window of the car, seeing that there was a storm cloud reigning over a farmhouse, from which snow was quickly falling.

Snow covered the grass that was within a fifty-foot radius of the farmhouse, and while, yes, it was November, there wasn't snow anywhere else, so . . . that wasn't good.

Vanya quickly parked the car, and all seven of them rushed out, their eyes glued to the cloud that seemed to only be growing larger.

"You think whatever's going on inside is causing the cold front?" Diego questioned as he stepped forward.

"Well," Five replied drily, "the correlation is high."

Their gaze was shifted downwards as a blonde, middle-aged woman sprinted out of the farm, a long gun grasped tightly in her hands as she came in their direction.

"Sissy!" Vanya shouted. "Sissy!"

"Get back!" Sissy yelled at them as she cocked her gun and pointed it towards them. "All of you, just get the hell back!"

"Sissy! Hey! Hey!" Vanya lifted a hand of defence as Sissy stopped a few feet away from her. "What's wrong?"

Sissy panted as she shifted her gaze from sibling to sibling, clutching her gun tightly. After a few moments, she turned back to Vanya and breathed out, "Carl."

Vanya's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she questioned, "What did he do to you?"

"He's . . ." Sissy shook her head before confessing, "He's dead. Harlan tossed him aside like a rag doll, same way you sent those policemen flyin'. What did you do to him?"

Vanya quickly shook her head. "No—"

"What the hell did you do to my son?"

Diego glanced nervously at the storm, and began to walk forward as he muttered, "We don't have time for this, Vanya."

Sissy turned the gun in his direction, causing Mara to grab Diego's hand and pull him back.

"Where you think you're going?" Sissy demanded.

Shaking Mara's hand off him, Diego raised a hand in defence and reassured her, "To help your son."

"Look, Sissy," Vanya said swiftly, "I found my family. These are my brothers and my sister."

Sissy tried to steady her breath as she lowered her gun, and, her voice trembling, she asked, "Were you lyin' to me the whole time?"

"Of course not," Vanya replied gently, shaking her head as she took a step forward. "Look, I didn't know who I was. But I do now. And we are not the monsters that they say we are. We did not kill the president. We are not terrorists. We're not here to hurt anyone."

"Then . . ." Sissy swallowed, looking around at all of them once more as she asked, "Who are you?"

"The only one who can help Harlan," Vanya answered firmly.

Her clutch on the gun loosening, Sissy nodded in agreement, and, now without the threat of being shot, the family immediately sprinted towards the farm.