Ceilings

Caitlyn laced up her skates with mechanical precision, her mind already ticking through the lesson plan. Today’s focus was speed and control. Specifically, quick turns. Vi had potential, Caitlyn couldn’t deny that, but her lack of finesse grated on Caitlyn’s nerves. Every movement Vi made was raw and forceful, as if sheer power could replace precision.

Caitlyn straightened, brushing invisible dust from her leggings. She was tightening her gloves when Vi skated over to her, looking slightly winded and uncharacteristically annoyed.

“You’re late,” Caitlyn said curtly, glancing at the clock. “Again.”

Vi threw her hands up. “Yeah, well, not all of us have chauffeurs and shiny cars to get us here on time, Princess. My truck crapped out this morning. Had to walk.”

Caitlyn blinked, caught off guard. “You walked? How far?”

“Not that far,” Vi lied, her tone casual, but the exhaustion in her voice betrayed her. “Just a couple miles. No big deal.”

Caitlyn frowned, her annoyance softening despite herself. “You could’ve rescheduled.”

Vi snorted, her tone sarcastic. “And miss the chance to be yelled at by you? No way.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, ignoring the strange warmth creeping into her chest. “If you’re done making excuses, we have work to do.”

Vi dropped her bag by the bench and pulled on her skates, taking her time despite Caitlyn’s obvious impatience. When she finally joined Caitlyn on the ice, she grinned. “Alright, what’s the plan, Cupcake?”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened at the nickname, but she ignored it. “Quick turns. You’re fast, but your transitions are sloppy. If you can’t turn sharply and keep control, speed is useless.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying I need to skate like you?”

“Precisely,” Caitlyn replied without missing a beat. “Watch.”

She pushed off, skating to the far end of the rink before accelerating into a tight curve. Her body moved like clockwork, every muscle and joint working in perfect harmony. She came to a stop in front of Vi, her breathing steady.

“That,” she said simply.

Vi whistled low. “Not bad, Princess. But let’s see you teach me to do that.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “We’ll see if you’re teachable. Start with a wide circle and gradually tighten your turns. Focus on your edge control.”

Vi took off, her movements powerful but unrefined. She attempted a tight turn, only to lose balance and stumble.

“Too much speed,” Caitlyn called out. “Control your approach, then accelerate through the turn.”

Vi tried again, slower this time, but her footing faltered halfway through. She kicked the ice in frustration.

“Relax,” Caitlyn said, skating over to her. “You’re overthinking it. Shift your weight more evenly and trust your edges.”

Vi looked up at her, sweat beading on her forehead. “Easy for you to say. You’re a natural.”

Caitlyn’s expression hardened. “There’s no such thing as ‘natural.’ It’s work. Discipline. Now, again.”

Vi groaned but pushed herself upright, her determination flaring. She tried again, this time managing a cleaner turn.

“There,” Caitlyn said, her tone grudgingly approving. “Better. Now do it again.”

For the next hour, Vi practiced, her turns gradually improving under Caitlyn’s sharp eye. By the end, she was sweating and breathing hard, but her movements had a newfound precision.

“You’re getting it,” Caitlyn admitted as Vi skated up to her. “Not perfect, but passable.”

Vi grinned, wiping her brow. “High praise from the ice queen herself.”

Caitlyn crossed her arms as she watched Vi clumsily attempt another turn. The girl had power, sure, but it was as if she thought brute force alone could fix her technique. When Vi finally skidded to a stop in front of her, slightly off balance and breathing hard, Caitlyn sighed.

“You’re not a bulldozer, Vi,” Caitlyn said sharply. “This isn’t about smashing through obstacles; it’s about precision.”

Vi rolled her eyes, brushing a strand of sweaty hair out of her face. “Not all of us were born with perfect posture and a stick up our…”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Caitlyn interrupted, her tone icy.

Vi smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Relax, Princess. I’m just saying, not everyone gets to grow up in a mansion with lessons and fancy coaches.”

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened. “And not everyone wastes their potential by treating this like a joke.”

Vi’s smirk faltered for a moment, but then she grinned, leaning casually on the boards. “You think I’ve got potential, huh?”

“That’s not what I said,” Caitlyn snapped, though her face warmed under Vi’s teasing gaze.

“It’s exactly what you said,” Vi countered, stepping closer. Her voice dropped, just slightly, as she added, “You must like something about me, Princess, or you wouldn’t be wasting your time here.”

Caitlyn felt her pulse quicken and hated herself for it. “I’m here because I was asked,” she said stiffly, skating a few feet away to put some distance between them.

Vi followed, easily keeping up with her. “Sure, sure. But admit it… you’d miss me if I stopped showing up.”

Caitlyn spun around, glaring at her. “I’d be relieved.”

Vi laughed, the sound echoing in the rink. “You’re terrible at lying, you know that?”

Caitlyn huffed and turned back to the center of the ice. “Focus, Vi. Again. And this time, try not to embarrass yourself.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Coach,” Vi said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I live to impress you.”

Caitlyn ignored the flutter in her chest as Vi skated off to try the drill again. She’d never met anyone so infuriating, and yet, she couldn’t deny that Vi’s persistence was starting to chip away at her carefully built walls.

When Vi returned, she executed the turn with more control, sliding to a stop right in front of Caitlyn.

“Well?” Vi asked, leaning forward slightly, her grin impossibly smug. “How’d I do, Princess?”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, refusing to give her the satisfaction. “Marginally better. But you’re still sloppy.”

Vi clutched her chest dramatically. “Ouch. You sure know how to flatter a girl.”

Caitlyn’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t let it show. “Maybe if you spent less time talking and more time skating, you’d actually be decent.”

“Maybe I’d skate better if you weren’t so distracting,” Vi shot back, her grin widening.

Caitlyn blinked, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?”

Vi shrugged, her tone casual but her eyes gleaming with mischief. “You heard me. Hard to focus when you’re over there looking all... graceful and perfect and stuff.”

For a moment, Caitlyn was speechless. Her usual sharp retorts failed her, and all she could do was stare at Vi, her face heating.

Vi laughed, clearly reveling in Caitlyn’s flustered state. “Relax, Princess. I’m just messing with you.”

Caitlyn finally found her voice, though it was weaker than she liked. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” Vi said with a wink, skating away before Caitlyn could respond.

Caitlyn watched her go, her emotions a confusing tangle of irritation and something else she didn’t want to name. She sighed, rubbing her temple. This was going to be a long partnership.

Caitlyn was about to call Vi out for another clumsy attempt at a quick turn when she noticed Vi skating toward her, her phone pressed tightly to her ear. Her usual smirk was gone, replaced by a tense, panicked expression.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Vi said hurriedly into the phone. “I’ll be there as fast as I can. Just… I’m on my way.”

She hung up, her hand trembling slightly as she shoved the phone into her pocket. Caitlyn frowned, skating closer. “What’s wrong?”
Caitlyn barely had time to process Vi’s words before she noticed the way her shoulders were trembling, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Vi wasn’t just upset, she was unraveling.

“My sister’s in the hospital,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking on the last word. She rubbed at her face with both hands, as if trying to steady herself, but her breathing was shallow and ragged. “My dad wouldn’t even tell me what’s wrong. He just said to get there. What if…”

Her voice cracked, and she stopped, squeezing her eyes shut as if the thought alone was unbearable.

Caitlyn felt a pang of something she didn’t quite recognize. Concern, maybe, or guilt for every time she’d dismissed Vi as nothing but brash and invulnerable.

“Vi,” Caitlyn said, her voice softer than usual. “Come on, let’s get you there.”

Vi opened her mouth as if to argue, then seemed to remember her truck. “I—I can’t. My damn truck’s dead, and I—I can’t…” Her words came faster now, panic rising with each one. “I can’t just sit here while she’s…”

“You’re not sitting here,” Caitlyn interrupted, her tone firm. “I’ll drive you.”

Vi blinked, her red-rimmed eyes locking on Caitlyn. “You—what?”

“I’ll drive you,” Caitlyn repeated, already heading toward the benches to take off her skates. “You’re in no condition to wait around or figure something else out. Come on.”

Vi hesitated, standing frozen in the middle of the ice. “Caitlyn, I…”

“Stop wasting time,” Caitlyn snapped, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness. “Let’s go.”

That seemed to break through the fog of panic. Vi nodded stiffly and skated over to the bench, yanking her skates off with trembling hands.

Caitlyn led Vi to her car, trying to suppress her discomfort as she unlocked the sleek black vehicle. Vi trailed behind, her posture stiff and her breathing uneven. Caitlyn hadn’t expected to see her like this. shaking, vulnerable, her usual bravado stripped away.
When they reached the car, Vi hesitated, standing by the passenger door as if she wasn’t sure she should get in. Caitlyn cleared her throat.

“Come on,” she said softly. “The faster we leave, the faster we get there.”

Vi nodded quickly, wiping at her face with the back of her hand before climbing in. Caitlyn slid into the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly as the tension in the air seemed to press down on her.

The engine purred to life, and Caitlyn pulled out of the parking lot. Vi sat beside her, staring straight ahead, her hands gripping her knees like she was trying to hold herself together.

Caitlyn wasn’t sure what to say. Comforting people wasn’t exactly her strength, and the sight of Vi, so clearly falling apart, made her feel awkward and unsure. She could sense the weight of the other girl’s worry, could feel it hanging in the silence between them.
“She’ll be okay,” Caitlyn said finally, her voice quieter than usual.

Vi didn’t respond at first. She kept her gaze fixed on the windshield, her jaw tight.

“You don’t know that,” Vi said eventually, her voice raw.

Caitlyn winced. “No, I don’t. But she'll have people there for her. That’s important.”

Vi’s hand twitched against her knee, her grip tightening. “She’s just a kid. She’s got no one but me and our dad Vander. And Vander wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone. Just ‘get here.’ What the hell does that mean, Caitlyn? What if…”

Her voice cracked, and she stopped, her breath hitching as she turned to stare out the window.

Caitlyn glanced at her, unsure of what to do. “You’re going to see her soon,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “You’ll know what’s going on, and you’ll be there for her. That’s all you can do right now.”

Vi let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Great. Just sit here and wait while she’s…” She cut herself off again, shaking her head.

Caitlyn pressed her lips together, keeping her eyes on the road. She didn’t know what else to say, so she settled for driving as quickly as she could without risking a ticket.

The hospital came into view a few minutes later, and Vi sat up straighter, her expression a mix of fear and determination. Caitlyn pulled into the parking lot and found a spot near the entrance.

As soon as the car stopped, Vi was out, slamming the door behind her. Caitlyn got out more slowly, watching as Vi started toward the entrance, her pace hurried but unsteady.

“Vi!” Caitlyn called after her, jogging to catch up.

Vi stopped, turning to look at her. Her eyes were red and tired, but there was a spark of something else there. gratitude, maybe.
“Thanks,” Vi said hoarsely. “For the ride.”

Caitlyn nodded, unsure of what to say. “Do you want me to come in?”

Vi shook her head quickly. “No. It’s... it’s family stuff. I’ll be fine.”

Caitlyn hesitated, then nodded again. “Okay. Take care of her.”

Vi turned and headed into the hospital, and Caitlyn watched her go before leaning back against her car, exhaling slowly. Whatever was happening, she hoped Vi would find the strength to face it.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
Vi rushed through the hospital doors, her boots squeaking on the polished floors as she weaved past nurses, patients, and visitors. Her heart pounded in her chest, every step feeling slower than it should be, like she was running through water.

The fluorescent lights above cast a harsh glow, making the emergency room waiting area seem even colder than it was. She scanned the room, her breath catching when she spotted Vander sitting in a chair near the corner, hunched over with his face in his hands.

She froze. Vander was always the strong one, the one who never cracked no matter how bad things got. Seeing him like this, his shoulders shaking, his hands trembling, it sent a spike of fear straight through her.

“Vander?” she called out, her voice hoarse.

He looked up at her, and her stomach dropped. His eyes were red and swollen, his face pale and lined with worry. She had never seen him cry before.

“Vi,” he said, his voice breaking as he stood.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, though her voice wavered. “What happened to Powder? Is she okay?”

Vander hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to steady himself, but it didn’t work.

“She... she didn’t want to go to school today,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “She couldn’t face them again, those kids. She’s been holding it in, trying to stay strong, but...”

Vi’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. “But what?” she whispered.

Vander’s voice cracked as he continued. “She tried to take her own life, Vi.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She stumbled back a step, her legs threatening to give out beneath her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head violently. “No, she wouldn’t—she wouldn’t do that. She’s just a kid. She’s—she’s—”

“She’s hurting,” Vander interrupted, his voice breaking. “And we didn’t see it. I didn’t see it. God, Vi, I should’ve…”

Vi clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall. Powder couldn’t be gone. She couldn’t.

“Is she alive?” Vi asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Vander nodded quickly, his own tears streaming down his face. “Yes. They got to her in time. She’s stable now, but...” He trailed off, his voice faltering.

Vi exhaled shakily, a mix of relief and despair washing over her. She sank into the chair beside Vander, burying her face in her hands as the weight of his words settled over her.

“How could this happen?” she muttered, her voice muffled. “How did we not see it?”

Vander put a heavy hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we’re going to be there for her now. Whatever it takes.”

Vi nodded, though her mind was spinning with guilt and anger. at herself, at the kids who bullied Powder, at the whole damn world for making her sister feel like this was her only option.

She had to be strong. For Powder. For Vander. For their family. But in that moment, all she wanted to do was scream.

Vi swallowed hard, forcing herself to steady her voice. “Can I see her?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

Vander hesitated, his face tightening before he nodded. “Yeah, you can. But she’s... unresponsive right now. They’ve got her hooked up to all sorts of machines, trying to stabilize her. It’s gonna be hard to see, Vi.”

Vi clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. “I don’t care,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “I just need to be there. She needs to know I’m there.”

Vander sighed, his shoulders sagging, and motioned for her to follow. They made their way through the sterile halls of the hospital, the sharp smell of disinfectant filling the air. Each step felt heavier than the last, but Vi pressed on, ignoring the tightness in her chest and the sting in her eyes.

When they reached Powder’s room, Vi hesitated at the door. Through the small window, she could see the faint rise and fall of her sister’s chest, the steady beep of the heart monitor the only sign of life. Powder looked so small in the hospital bed, her face pale and fragile, tubes and wires snaking around her like a cruel mockery of the vibrant girl Vi knew.

Vander placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. “We can sit with her,” he said quietly. “Just being with her is important.”
Vi nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, and pushed the door open.

The room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the machines. Vi sank into the chair beside Powder’s bed, her hand hovering over her sister’s before finally taking it gently.

As she sat there, memories started flooding back. Ones she hadn’t let herself think about in years.

She remembered how they used to run through the crowded streets of the Undercity, laughing and dodging vendors who shouted at them for stealing scraps. Powder’s smile had been brighter than the sun, her laughter infectious even in the darkest corners of their world.

She remembered Powder clutching her arm tightly during thunderstorms, whispering, “Don’t let go, Vi,” and how Vi had promised she never would.

She remembered teaching Powder how to skate on the frozen puddles that dotted the Undercity during winter, the both of them tumbling to the ground in a heap of giggles. Powder had always looked up to her, trusting her to keep them safe, to make the world less cruel.

But Vi had let her down.

“I’m so sorry, Powder,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she gripped her sister’s hand tighter. “I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been there for you.”

Vander sat in the corner, his large frame hunched over, his face buried in his hands. He looked as lost as Vi felt, the weight of his guilt hanging heavy in the air.

Vi’s gaze flickered back to Powder, her chest tightening at the sight of her fragile form. “You’re gonna get through this,” she said firmly, though she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Powder or herself. “I’m gonna make sure of it. I swear, Powder. I’m not leaving you.”

The only response was the steady beep of the heart monitor, but Vi held on to her sister’s hand, refusing to let go.

The quiet hum of the machines filled the room as Vi sat by Powder’s bedside, her hand gripping her sister’s limp fingers. She barely registered Vander’s footsteps as he stood behind her, his presence heavy with unspoken words.

“Vi,” Vander said softly, his voice hoarse.

She didn’t look up. “She’s going to wake up, right?”

There was a pause, and then the chair beside her creaked as Vander sat down. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together tightly.

“She will,” he said carefully, “but... it’s not going to be easy.”

Vi’s stomach churned. “What do you mean?”

Vander rubbed a hand over his face, his shoulders sagging. “The doctors think it’s best if she gets more help. Not just for her injuries, but for her mind. They’re recommending she go into psychiatric care for a while.”

Vi’s head snapped up, her eyes wide and disbelieving. “Psychiatric care? Like a hospital?”

Vander nodded grimly. “Yeah. They say she needs to be somewhere safe. Somewhere she can get the help she needs to heal.”

Vi shook her head, her grip tightening on Powder’s hand. “No. She needs to be home. With us. She’ll get better with us.”

“Vi,” Vander said, his voice firm but gentle, “this isn’t something we can fix on our own. She tried to... she thought there was no other way. That’s not just gonna go away because we love her. She needs professionals to help her through this.”

Tears stung Vi’s eyes, and she blinked them away furiously. “So what? We just send her off? Leave her with strangers?”

“It’s not about leaving her,” Vander said, his voice breaking. “It’s about giving her a chance. A real chance. We’ll still be there for her, every step of the way.”

Vi’s jaw tightened, and she looked back at Powder. Her little sister looked so fragile, so lost. The thought of her being alone in some sterile hospital made Vi’s chest ache.

“She’s just a kid,” Vi muttered, her voice cracking.

“I know,” Vander said. “That’s why we have to do this. Because we owe it to her to make sure she gets the help she needs.”

Vi didn’t respond. She just stared at Powder, her thoughts a whirlwind of guilt, anger, and helplessness. How had it come to this? How had they missed the signs?

After a long silence, Vander placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’re gonna get through this, Vi,” he said softly. “All of us. Together.”
Vi sat frozen in the sterile hospital room, Vander’s words echoing in her mind. Psychiatric care. The phrase felt heavy and hollow, like a prison sentence. Powder was just a kid. Her little sister, and now she was supposed to trust strangers to fix something Vi hadn’t even realized was broken until it was too late.

She looked at Powder, her fragile form barely moving under the hospital sheets, and something inside her cracked. The tears she’d been holding back spilled over, but they weren’t just from sadness. Beneath the grief was something darker, hotter, and far more consuming.

Rage.

It wasn’t just anger at the world or at herself anymore. It was fury at the kids who had pushed Powder to this point, the ones who made her feel like there was no escape. Vi had spent so much of her life trying to believe that fighting wasn’t always the answer. Vander had taught her to control her temper, to find other ways to deal with problems.

But he’d been wrong.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw a couple of texts from Sevika asking why she’d skipped practice. She ignored them. Instead, she opened instagram and pulled up Caitlyn’s profile.

Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before she started typing.

Vi: Can you pick me up from the hospital?

A few seconds passed.

Caitlyn: Are you okay?

Vi stared at the question, her jaw tightening. She didn’t have time to explain.

Vi: Just come get me. Please. I need a ride.

There was another pause, and then Caitlyn responded.

Caitlyn: I’m on my way.

Vi slipped her phone back into her pocket and stood, her fists clenching at her sides. Vander glanced up at her, his brows furrowing.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“For air,” Vi said, her voice colder than she meant it to be.

Vander studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Don’t go too far.”

Vi didn’t answer. She stepped out of the hospital room, the walls of the corridor feeling like they were closing in on her. Every step felt like it was carrying her closer to something she couldn’t name, but she didn’t care.

She wouldn’t let this go unanswered. Those kids had taken Powder’s light, her laughter, her trust in the world. Vi couldn’t fix what had already happened, but she could make sure they never did this to anyone else.

Vi paced outside the hospital’s entrance, her fists jammed into her jacket pockets to keep from shaking. The cold air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed it, her thoughts spinning like a storm. Every second felt like an hour until she finally heard the low purr of an engine pulling up to the curb.

Caitlyn’s sleek black car came to a smooth stop in front of her, the driver’s side window rolling down. Caitlyn leaned over, her brows knitted with concern.

“Vi,” she said cautiously, “what’s going on? Are you…”

Vi didn’t wait for her to finish. She yanked open the passenger door, slid into the seat, and slammed it shut behind her. “Drive,” she said sharply.

Caitlyn blinked, her grip on the wheel tightening. “Drive where?”

“Zaun Middle School,” Vi said, her voice clipped.

Caitlyn frowned. “Why? What’s going on? Are you okay? Is your sister…”

“Just drive, Caitlyn,” Vi snapped, cutting her off.

Caitlyn’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t push further. The car hummed to life as she pulled away from the hospital.

The silence between them was heavy, the air in the car thick with unspoken questions. Vi stared out the window, her knee bouncing restlessly. She could feel Caitlyn glancing at her every few seconds, the tension radiating from her like a storm cloud.

Finally, Caitlyn couldn’t hold back. “Vi, I don’t know what’s going on, but I need you to tell me. What’s at Zaun Middle School? Why…”

“Caitlyn,” Vi interrupted, her voice low and dangerous. She turned to meet Caitlyn’s gaze, her eyes blazing. “Not now. Just get me there.”

Caitlyn hesitated, clearly torn between pressing for answers and respecting the raw edge in Vi’s voice. With a soft sigh, she focused back on the road.

Vi’s hands clenched into fists in her lap as she tried to calm the storm inside her. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw Powder lying motionless in that hospital bed, and her fury only grew.

She didn’t know what she was going to do when they got to the school. But she knew one thing for sure: those kids weren’t going to walk away from this unscathed.

Caitlyn pulled the car to a stop near a run down park on the outskirts of Zaun Middle. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the cracked pavement and rusted playground equipment. Vi’s eyes scanned the area like a hawk, and her breath hitched when she spotted them. A group of kids loitering near a bench, laughing and shoving each other around.

Jordan and his pack.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat fueling the fire raging inside her. She flung the car door open and stepped out, ignoring Caitlyn’s startled voice behind her.

“Vi, wait, what are you doing?” Caitlyn called, but Vi didn’t answer.

Her boots crunched against the gravel as she approached the group. The boys noticed her immediately, their laughter fading into wary silence. Jordan, the ringleader, smirked and crossed his arms, his cocky posture making Vi’s blood boil.

“Well, look who it is,” Jordan said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Powder’s big sister. What, you here to cry about her, too?”
The words hit Vi like a slap, but they didn’t stop her. If anything, they pushed her over the edge.

Without thinking, without hesitating, she swung.

Her fist connected with Jordan’s face, and the force of the punch sent him stumbling back, his smirk replaced by a look of shock. His friends froze, their bravado evaporating as Vi closed the distance and shoved Jordan hard enough to send him sprawling to the ground.
“You think it’s funny?” she growled, her voice shaking with fury. “You think you can break people and walk away like it’s nothing?”

Jordan scrambled to his feet, clutching his nose, which was already bleeding. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he shouted, but Vi didn’t give him a chance to recover.

She landed another punch, then turned on the others when they moved to intervene. They didn’t stand a chance. Vi’s fists flew, and they were too stunned, too scared to do more than try to shield themselves.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Caitlyn get out of the car, her face pale. “Vi! Stop!” she yelled, but Vi couldn’t hear her.
The world narrowed to just her and these kids, the ones who had tormented her sister, who had pushed Powder to the brink. They deserved this. They deserved worse.

By the time she finally stopped, her knuckles were raw and bleeding, her chest heaving as she stood over the boys. Jordan was on the ground, groaning and clutching his stomach, while his friends scattered like frightened animals.

Vi turned to see Caitlyn staring at her, wide eyed and horrified.

“What the hell was that?” Caitlyn demanded, her voice trembling.

Vi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just wiped the blood off her knuckles onto her jeans and walked back to the car, her heart still pounding.

She slid into the passenger seat, her hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. Caitlyn got in beside her, but she didn’t start the car.

Instead, she stared at Vi, her expression a mix of anger, fear, and something else Vi couldn’t place.

“Vi,” Caitlyn said, her voice quiet but firm. “What did you just do?”

Vi stared straight ahead, her jaw tightening. “What I had to.”

Caitlyn shook her head, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. “That’s not…” She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and tried again. “That’s not how you fix things.”

Vi’s hands clenched into fists in her lap. “They deserved it,” she muttered, her voice thick with emotion.

Caitlyn didn’t respond right away, but the silence was louder than any words she could have said. When she finally started the car, the ride back was tense and suffocating, neither of them daring to speak.

The ride was quiet, the hum of Caitlyn’s fancy car the only sound between them. Vi stared out the window, her hands resting on her lap. Her knuckles throbbed, blood smeared across her skin and jeans. She didn’t care. The pain felt right, like it belonged.

Caitlyn was silent, her lips pressed into a thin line as she gripped the steering wheel. The tension in the car was thick enough to choke on, but Vi couldn’t bring herself to break it. At least not yet.

When they stopped at a red light, Caitlyn let out a sharp breath. “What happened back there, Vi?” Her voice was clipped, controlled, but there was an edge of something else underneath. Fear, maybe.

Vi swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight, her chest heavier than it had been even after Powder’s hospital room. “It was My sister, Powder.” she muttered, not looking at Caitlyn.

“What’s going on?” Caitlyn asked, her voice softening slightly.

Vi pressed her back against the seat, trying to find the words. Her nails dug into her palms as she forced herself to speak. “She’s in the hospital... because of them. Those kids. They’ve been tormenting her for months. Maybe longer. She didn’t want to go to school and face them again, so she...” Her voice broke, and she clenched her jaw to stop the tears from falling. “She tried to take her own life.”
The car fell into silence again, but this time it felt heavier, more suffocating. Caitlyn’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, her knuckles white.

“I…” Caitlyn started but stopped herself, her voice catching. She glanced at Vi, her brows furrowed. “Why didn’t you just tell me that earlier?”

Vi turned to her, her eyes blazing. “And what would you have done, huh? Told me to calm down? Told me to let it go? They didn’t let Powder go, Caitlyn. They pushed her until she didn’t see a way out. I’m not just gonna sit there and let them get away with it.”

Caitlyn’s lips parted, but no words came out. She blinked, her expression softening as she looked back at the road. “That doesn’t mean what you did was right,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vi scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Right or not, it needed to be done.”

Neither of them spoke after that. The rest of the drive felt endless, the air in the car thick with everything they weren’t saying.
When Caitlyn’s mansion finally came into view, Vi barely registered it. The towering gates, the sprawling lawn, the pristine facade. It all felt like it belonged to a different world. A world she didn’t fit into.

Caitlyn pulled into the driveway and parked, cutting the engine. She sat there for a moment, her hands still gripping the wheel, before turning to Vi.

“Come inside,” Caitlyn said, her voice gentler now. “We need to clean those cuts.”

Vi hesitated, her pride screaming at her to refuse. But the sting in her knuckles reminded her that Caitlyn was right. Reluctantly, she pushed the door open and followed Caitlyn toward the manor, her thoughts still swirling with anger, guilt, and an overwhelming ache she couldn’t quite name.