Olt, Rebecca, Mariah, Cristina, Jeffrey, and Ganjo all stood on the porch. The tension was palpable. Omar, drawn by the rising voices, emerged from the shed in the yard. He looked concerned, sensing the brewing conflict. Hannah, carrying a tray laden with pastries, stepped out of the farmhouse but froze at the edge of the porch. Her anxious eyes darted between the figures.

  Ganjo gestured emphatically. His voice, however, was urgent and laced with a dismissive edge. He addressed the group.

  "Look, after an attack like last night, staying here is just asking for more trouble. Random or not, it doesn't matter. You need to use these visas. Get out."

  He gestured first towards the farmhouse, then back towards the road, emphasizing the danger.

  Jeffrey stepped forward, confronting Ganjo directly.

  "I understand your reasoning, Ganjo. But you can pull strings. You need to find out who was really behind this. Not just offer us an escape route."

  Ganjo's annoyance flared.

  "Pull strings? Jeffrey, I already pulled strings! I convinced Veronica to get you these visas!

  His tone intensified..

  "Did you fill out the paperwork I gave you?

  Cristina remarked, her voice sharp and laced with sarcasm.

  "Paperwork? Ganjo, do you even understand? We almost lost our lives last night! Paperwork wasn't exactly a priority."

  Ganjo waved a hand impatiently.

  "Look, I have errands to run before the mock trial with Veronica tomorrow."

  He turned back to Jeffrey, his tone abrupt.

  "Jeffrey, can I go now?"

  Challenging him, Jeffrey stepped closer to Ganjo.

  "Is that it, Ganjo? That's all you're going to add to this conversation?" His voice hardened, becoming a demand. "If you want Olt and Rebecca's help in all this, you need to act like a team player!"

  Ganjo exploded in anger.

  "Team player? None of this deserves a team effort, Jeffrey. It's all deals. Deals to stay alive!" He gestured dismissively. "Stop being so righteous. No one owes you anything! All of this is random! The only connection is that we all happened to work for Oliver!"

  The anger boiled over. Jeffrey, impulsive, grabbed Ganjo by the shirt, his face inches from Ganjo's.

  "I'm surprised you're still alive, you piece of shit."

  Ganjo retaliated instantly, grabbing Jeffrey by the neck, matching his aggression.

  "We're all still standing because of my damn deals, Jeffrey!"

  Omar stepped forward quickly, attempting to intervene, to separate the two men. But their combined strength, fueled by adrenaline and anger, unintentionally pushed Omar backwards. He lost his balance, stumbling back, but managed to remain upright.

  Rebecca reacted instantly. She ran down the porch steps, summoning her Aether. Her eyes turned bloodshot red. She thrust her hands out, pushing a surge of energy between the two men, forcing them apart.

  Everything… everything is falling apart, Olt thought, his mind reeling.

  Ganjo and Jeffrey stumbled back, separated by Rebecca's unexpected intervention. Ganjo, still angry but regaining a semblance of composure, straightened his clothes.

  "My deal with the Dasa Vech isn't just protecting me, Jeffrey. It's protecting you and your family too!" He paused, then blurted out. "If I don't help Veronica, every deal I made with Ves goes down the drain! Then we won't just have Hadic to worry about, or some random red-headed chick, but we'll have the entire Hanover family on us!"

  Almost as an afterthought, revealing his own vulnerability, he added.

  "And by the way, you righteous fuck,” Ganjo said, pulling up his sleeve. “I was attacked last night too!”

  Shock overcame the group’s expressions as they saw the bandages wrapped around his arm. Light red stains were printed on them.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Freddy… that punk Freddy is threatening me! If he gets his way, we’re all in deep trouble!"

  Rebecca turned off her Aether, her eyes returning to normal. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly, inhaling deeply to regain composure. She opened her eyes, and turned to Jeffrey.

  “Jeffrey, Ganjo’s right.” Her voice was controlled. “You can't remain in this house alone. With everything that’s happening, it can just make everything worse.”

  She continued, explaining her own plans, demonstrating she was also taking action.

  “I also have to run some errands before the big day tomorrow, but I'm going to see if I can find someone to help guard the household while you think over what you’re going to do about the visas.”

  Jeffrey looked at Rebecca, his voice still laced with suspicion.

  “Why are you taking Ganjo's side, Rebecca?”

  Rebecca explained her reasoning. "I'm not taking his side. But you need to understand…" She elaborated. “When my father was killed and everyone was running for their lives, deals had to be made.”

  She challenged Jeffrey to understand her perspective.

  “Or how do you think that I managed to continue living a normal life and working at the Institute?” Rebecca became personal, revealing a vulnerability. “I also had to make deals, or did you forget about my sister, Olivia?”

  Jeffrey was taken aback by Rebecca's directness and the mention of Olivia.

  Rebecca continued.

  “And although you were gone from the life, you should know that once you’re part of it, you never leave it.”

  She reminded Jeffrey of his past.

  “You were a Guardian, too. Our whole purpose was to keep Hadic's intelligence operations in check, even if it meant psy-ops on our own men. We were Hadic’s biggest threat. We needed to make those deals if we wanted a semblance of normalcy, Jeffrey.”

  Rebecca concluded, trying to convince Jeffrey of Ganjo's truthfulness.

  "I don't know all the details, but I know Ganjo isn't lying. You and your family managed to survive these past two years because of him. That job that Olt got at the institute - what, you thought you had influence? That was because of Ganjo.”

  Embarrassment grew among the family. They realized the unspoken truths Rebecca was laying bare.

  The righteous fire that had animated Jeffrey moments ago was gone, leaving behind a hollowness that Olt found deeply disturbing. Olt watched, pained, as the man who had always been their shield, their unwavering protector, was forced to confront his own powerlessness. A bitter truth settled upon Olt: their survival now depended on the whims of others. It depended on deals and favors offered with good intentions, perhaps, but with an underlying current of condescension that was hard to ignore. The shift in power, from self-reliance to dependence, was a bitter pill to swallow.

  Ganjo scoffed, a sound of pure exasperation, at the aftermath of the argument. He turned to walk towards his sleek black sedan left parked from the night before. He opened the car door and sat inside. He inserted the key into the ignition.

  Please start, Ganjo prayed silently, not wanting to endure the wait for a tow truck and the inevitable awkwardness of more time spent around Jeffrey.

  The engine turned over, then started successfully. Ganjo got out of the car, visibly relieved.

  “Rebecca, we should meet tomorrow at the gym around 6 pm,” Ganjo said, businesslike. He paused, then added, gesturing generally, “Do you mind picking up Olt?”

  Olt interjected quickly, “Rebecca doesn't have to do any of that. I'll make sure I get there. I'll take the bus.”

  Jeffrey, his voice slightly defeated, offered without looking at Ganjo or Rebecca.

  "I'll loan you the truck, Olt."

  He turned and walked away from the farmhouse, his posture dejected.

  Cristina, realizing Jeffrey was upset, followed him with concern.

  Rebecca looked at Jeffrey’s retreating back, frowning, and whispered to herself.

  “…Sorry, Jeffrey.”

  Then, she turned back to Ganjo, replying to his request.

  “I’ll be there at 6 pm.”

  She turned to Mariah.

  “Mariah, we should get going too.”

  Mariah, her own emotions frayed by the confrontation, looked at Rebecca.

  "I'll stay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll make my way back."

  Rebecca sighed and nodded.

  "Alright."

  Within moments, the porch emptied. Only Olt and Mariah remained.

  …

  The day, despite the approaching noon sun, was surprisingly cool. Olt sat motionless in his rocking chair, fixed on some distant point, lost in a world of his own.

  The earlier outburst had clearly stirred something within him. A quiet resentment simmered beneath his surface, a sense of protectiveness towards his family. He wanted to protect their pride, which he now felt had been unfairly diminished.

  The memory of childhood taunts, of being the boy without parents at school events, resurfaced. They brought with it a familiar ache. He understood that it was just foolish commotion that children did to each other. But it hurt. Thankfully, his family had always been there for him.

  He saw himself as a child, walking home from an event with Omar. They stopped at a street vendor and Omar bought two steak sandwiches and two ice-cold passion fruit juices. The worries vanished in those moments, as his grandpa told him stories of great champions, humble leaders, and bizarre relatives.

  They did not deserve to feel so helpless.

  Mariah’s gentle voice interrupted his thoughts.

  “It's a beautiful day, Olt. And it's only noon.” She paused, then suggested. “Do you want to go for a walk? The fresh air will do you some good.”

  Olt hesitated for a moment, then replied, taunting her.

  “You’ve been sweet and calm lately. It scares me.”

  Mariah frowned.

  “Don't be an ass!”

  She quickly smiled knowing it was a tease.

  “Sure, let’s go for a walk.” Olt said softly, with a tired smile.