She looked different. Her previous brass blonde hair was now brown, and her piercing blue eyes were now a shade of honey. The work of contacts and hair dye. Her face had matured into a young woman and not that same 15-year-old girl that she once knew.

"Quid dissimulo?" she asked, her voice softening.

(Why hide?)

Erin, or Tate, huffed a laugh and looked down at the cold concrete. Midnight stared -or more like glared- at her old friend. Could she even call her that anymore?

How did she not recognize her from all those times they made eye contact in the halls? And why did Erin stay quiet for so long? Why did she sell out Midnight's location so that the Ricci Cartel could attempt to assassinate her? Why would someone who was once her friend do something like that? What was she missing?

"Same reason why you did," she responded in English.

"I needed a new face for a new life," she told her. Midnight got out her gun and hesitated before cocking it back.

"Et instar eum. Vos semper habetis," Midnight muttered, her voice low and unwavering.

(I thought you were dead)

"Et mortuus est multis temporibus. Omnes per diversas nomina," Erin responded, smiling sadly as if reminiscing.

(I have died many times. All of them under different names.)

"Nos omnes nos habuimus retro tum. Cecidit seorsum -Everything fell apart- postquam reliquit," Midnight said, her voice barely above a whisper.

(We were all we had back then. I fell apart -everything fell apart- after you left.)

Her voice broke the slightest bit as if she was angry but heartbroken at the same time.

"Puto ego dicam tibi gratias. Nam questus me ex ut Hellhole" Erin mumbled, tears springing to her eyes as her gut twisted.

(I suppose I should say thank you then. For getting me out of that hellhole)

"You're welcome," Midnight said, eyes dark as her fists clenched at her sides.

"Vos should've ad me, et vivit et nunc, te obtinuit ad infernum multum explicandi facere," Midnight sighed.

(You should've told me you were alive and now you've got a hell of a lot of explaining to do.)

"Bonum quia ego have multus est dicere," Erin laughed.

(Good, because I have a lot to tell.)

This woman...this changed woman that kneeled in front of her knew her when she was just a naive and a helpless girl who did everything she could to survive. She couldn't kill the person who had been through hell with her.

She walked over to her and undid the chains, and helped her get up. Everyone had their mouth's ajar behind the glass. They all thought this was going to be the most brutal and bloodiest execution.

But they were very wrong.

She helped her walk out of the room, out of the building, and to her car. Everyone stared in surprise and all eyes were focused on them as they walked out. She helped her into the passenger's side of her car and disappeared into the streets of New York.





~


They waited for her to come back. She never did.

But he returned at 12 to fight. Blade was just as confused as anyone else. Even though he knew her better than anyone else -and that's not saying much- he still couldn't figure out what was going on and how she was feeling.

But anyone could tell that she was distracted in the arena. Her mind was else-where as she snapped necks and stopped hearts. She didn't waste time starting by killing one at a time, instead, she told the guards to release all 53 people at once.

They were dead faster than anyone had ever seen.

She walked out of the arena fast, not wanting to face anyone, but Luca shot down that plan. Just as she sat down on the motorcycle, he went in front of it and blocked her way.

"Move," she grumbled, her voice low and threatening. He chuckled and stood his ground.

"I still get to ask my question for today," he reminded, flashing his swoon-worthy wink that would send people fainting left and right. She narrowed her eyes under the helmet and stared daggers into his head.

This man knew all the ways to annoy her.

"Who was that girl to you?" he asked, his smirk fading and forming into a worried frown. She gulped and memories of them together came into play.

"Someone I knew once," she responded curtly. He frowned deeper, more questions invading his mind.

"Did you kill her?" he asked once more. She took a calm breath and looked at him through the helmet. her body visibly tensed. She knew he wouldn't back down without an answer.

"I had to. She was the traitor," she told him. She started the engine, and he moved out of the way. She instantly sped past him, not leaving him more time to ask questions.

"I hope you know that I don't believe you for a second," Luca said into the silent air as if she was still there.

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