Leona bit her lip hard, the sharp sting just enough to keep a distressed whimper from esg.

  “It’ll be fine, I promise. Be brave, my girl,” Goonie murmured, ing her arms around her. Leona nodded, f her lips into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  At that precise moment, the nurse slid the needle into the crook of Leona’s right elbow. Her rea was immediate—a yelp that echoed through the small room. The nurse offered a practiced, reassuring smile, but Quinn’s smirk was anything but kind.

  “Geez, Leona,” her cousin chortled, leaning ba her chair with a grin. “She barely touched you, and you acted like she skewered you with a sword!”

  Goonie rolled her eyes a out an exasperated sigh, leveling a firm look at Quinn. “Hush, you,” she said, but then a spark of mischief glinted in her eyes. “Though, now that you mention it, I think we’re overdue on your vaations, aren’t we?” She tapped her as if thoughtfully sidering.

  Quinn’s grin faltered, her bravado crag at the edges. “You wouldn’t…”

  The nurse, now pressing a gauze ball against Leona’s puncture wound, gnced up with a spiratorial smile. “Actually,” she said, her tone light and casual, “I just heard there’s been a celtion today. I’m sure we squeeze in a quick vaation for your oldest daughter.”

  The shift was instantaneous. Quinn’s eyes widened, and without another word, she bolted for the door like her life depended on it. The nurse chuckled softly, and Goonie shook her head with a rueful smile. “That one always talks big until the tables turn.”

  Leona sat frozen on the couch, her hands ched into tight fists as she stared at the television. The room felt impossibly quiet despite the hum of the TV and the faint noise of life outside the window. She couldn’t take her eyes off Mistral, her favorite superhero, standing there on the s during the live interview.

  Mistral was alive. That much should have brought Leona fort, but it didn’t—irely. The woman on the s wasn’t the fident, rger-than-life figure who once soared through the skies, wielding the weather like aension of her will. There was something broken in her gaze, a hollowhat chilled Leona to her core.

  “My nemesis held me against my will,” Mistral said, her voice cold and deliberate, each word sharp enough to cut. “I won’t speak of what she did to me, but I will say that I will never agai her best me, let alone uimate her. I wao speak out today to make it known that the search for this heinous vilin is ongoing, and I beseeyone, anyone, who has information about her to e forward as quickly as possible. Too long has this evil roamed free, and while it may take time, I will put ao the threat she represents to this p before it’s too te.”

  Leona bit her lip as she watched. Mistral’s voice was resolute, but there was an unfamiliar edge to it—a rawness, a fury that wasn’t there before.

  “Very resolute and powerful words,” the reporter, Joe Christensen, chimed in, his smile polite but tinged with uainty. “Are you certain that you tell us nothing further after setting up this interview?”

  “There is something else,” Mistral replied, her tone growing colder. “I ot overstate her cruelty and maniputiveness. She’s uable in many aspects, but absolutely dependable in at least ard. Namely, she always finds a way free, no matter what happens to her. I merely say that this endless cycle must end ond for all.”

  “Are you saying what I think you just did? Are you saying that you io kill this S-ranked supervilin? That clearly goes against the policy of The Society of Sentinels.”

  “That need not be the way it ends, per se. But I will no loay my hand if needs must—” Mistral said firmly, her jaw tightening. “And I’ll do what I must to protect this world. As the Great Manitou teaches and my old friend aaruo says—” She cut herself off abruptly, shaking her head. “That’s enough for now. I’ve said all I wished to.”

  Joe, uerred, pressed on. “How did it feel to be at the mercy of your enemy?”

  Mistral’s eyes narrowed, her expression darkening. “You speak of ‘mercy’?!” she snapped. “I don’t wish to speak about how I feel. I’ve obviously been affected by my experiences and will speak with those that I think best help me with that, but I have nothing to say publicly at this time. Perhaps iure, but not now.”

  “Thank you for taking the time. We all grieve with you and for your losses, Mistral. I believe our viewers agree when I say that we believe in you, and if you feel like sharing, our ears are ope—”

  Joe didn’t get to finish his sentence. Mistral turned her ba the camera and took off, her cape snapping in the wind as she unched into the sky without another word.

  The s shifted back to the news desk, where the anchan recapping the key points of the interview, but Leona didn’t hear them. She sat staring at the muted television, her mind spinning.

  Her hero was alive, but something had been lost. Mistral was colder, harder, and more distant than ever before. It felt like the woman Leona admired might still be out there—but buried beh yers of pain and bitterness, feelings that she uood all too well.

  A tear slid down Leona’s cheek as she hugged her ko her chest, repying Mistral’s words in her mind.

  When the news anchned off, Leona muted the television, her heart heavy. She couldn’t shake the strange, hollow look in Mistral’s eyes as she spoke about her captivity. There was something unsaid, something raw and unresolved, lingerih her measured words.

  Uo sit still any longer, Leona pushed herself off the coud bolted upstairs to her room. Firing up her puter, she immediately logged onto her favorite superhero forum, a space where fans ahusiasts shared news, theories, and specution about their favorite heroes and vilins.

  The thread about Mistral’s return was already buzzing with activity. Leona scrolled through the posts:

  ShadowLancer98: She was gone for months. Whatever Bgel did to her, it’s a miracle she’s even able to give an interview. But you tell! it’s eating her alive.

  WindRider96: That thing about "aying her hand" is she serious? Mistral’s alked like that before. She’s always been about hope and redemption, not killing.

  AuroraSpark22: I think we’re missing the point here. She’s alive. Mistral survived. That says something about her resilience. Give her time to heal before jumping to clusions.

  SkyboundWarrior11: What if she ’t heal? You saw the way she looked—she’s not the same Mistral anymore. What if Bgel broke her food?

  Leona’s frown deepened as she read. Most of the posts were bleak, suggesting that Mistral might be permaly scarred by her ordeal, physically or emotionally. Some wondered if she nning to leave the Sentinels altogether, uo face the pressures of heroism after such a traumatic experience.

  But a small ti of posters were hopeful, determio rally behind their idol.

  NovaStormX: She’s Mistral. She’s survived the impossible before. Maybe she’s ged, but that doesn’t mean she’s finished. I believe in her.

  Leona sat back, staring at the s. The threads of hope were fragile, but they resonated with her. Whatever had happened, Mistral was still standing. And if Mistral could find a way to overe her nightmare, maybe the rest of them could hold onto hope, too.

  Leona typed her own response, fingers moviantly over the keyboard.

  SilverWind14: Mistral’s been through so much, but she’s still here. She hasn’t given up. her should we.

  She hit "post" and stared at her words, hoping they would feel true with time.

  Several months ter, with all the tedious paperwork done and the mildly more exg but still terrifying doctor appoi behind her—not that it would be the st—far from it—Leona stood in her family’s small yard, her skirt swaying in the light breeze. She wirl’s sneakers now, a camisole, and a sports bra beh it all, the outfit perfectly plementing her new self.

  Today ecial—really special—because it was the first time she publicly dressed in a way that felt right. Her Goonie, ever resourceful, had introduced her to something called a gaff to help smooth things out. It felt stra first, but led beh a soft pair of panties, it made everything look and feel just right.

  Blushing as she adjusted her clothes, Leona tried to ighe nerves crawling up her spine. Would people notice? Would they think she looked nice? Before her thoughts could spiral too far, Quinn ambushed her from behind, breaking her tration with a grab that sent her heart leaping into her throat.

  “Yaiiiiiii!” Leona squealed, spinning around with wide eyes.

  Quinn grinned wickedly, her bright blue hair catg the sunlight. “Rex, it’s just me! Geez, you’re so jumpy!”

  Leona huffed, her cheeks pink as she smoothed out her camisole. “Don’t do that! You scared me half to death!”

  “Oh, lighten up,” Quinn teased, flipping her neon locks over her shoulder. “Besides, you’re keeping us waiting! Mama’s fihe cake! It’s a lemon cake—oops. Pretend I didn’t say that.” Her voice dropped to a mischievous whisper. “If you tell anyone I spoiled the surprise, I’ll tickle you until you pass out!”

  Leona’s mouth watered at the mention of cake, and she quickly nodded. “I won’t say a word, promise!” She bounced ooes iement but immediately regretted it, wing as a sharp ache radiated from her chest. “Nngh… okay, let’s go eat!”

  Quinn raised a brow, catg the wince. “What’s wrong? You okay?”

  “It’s nothing,” Leona said quickly, f a smile. “Just… sore, I guess.” She g her sister thoughtfully, noting how Quinn—now sixteen—didn’t look all that different from before her own big day had e and goh a couple of exceptions. Leona eyed them envious, flushing.

  Do I look differe? Leona wondered. Even though I’m twelve I don’t feel any different. Just ging clothes won’t make everything magically fall into pce… I wonder if mine will grow as big as hers have beeing tely?

  Quinn caught her staring and tilted her head. “What’re you looking at?” she asked, feigning innoce as she crossed her arms over her chest.

  Blinking, Leona ughed nervously. “Sorry! I was just thinking… you don’t really look sixteen.”

  Quinn’s expression shifted to mock offense as she lightly bopped Leona on the head. “Excuse me? Of course I’ve ged! Sixteen is the magical age! I’m just two years away from full adulthood!” She struck a dramatic pose, her grin radiant.

  “Um…” Leona tilted her head, grinning slyly. “You still ’t drink, though.”

  Quinwitched, her smirk faltering. “In the US, sure, but who cares? I’m not that impatient. What really matters is that I drive now! Mama’s takio the DMV soon so I get my learner’s permit!”

  Leona gaped at her, then backed away dramatically. “No way. You behind the wheel? Eeeeep!”

  “HEY!” Quinn lu her, tag her onto the grass. “I am your super-ultra-mega-cool big sister, and you will have faith in me, or no dubstep for you tonight! Birthday or not, you spoiled little brat!”

  The two rolled across the sweet-smelling wn, ughing and wrestling like the kids they were. A startled bumblebee buzzed free from the grass, flying zily past as Quinn giggled untrolbly.

  Leona wasn’t quite as amused, though. Every jolt sent sharp pangs through her chest, leaving her squirming and wing in disfort. “Quinn, stop! I’m serious—ow!” she yelped, swatting at her sister weakly.

  “Ouch! You hurt my boobs!” Leona blurted, her voice high and indignant as she quickly shielded her tender chest. Her face flushed a deep red as she gred up at Quinn.

  Quinn blinked, momentarily startled, before a sheepish grin spread across her face. “A… I’m sorry, Leona. I fot all about that.” She adjusted her position slightly, her tone softening. “I know it be a pain—but it’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  Despite her irritation, Leona couldn’t help but brighten at the question. “YES! I do! I love them!” she said enthusiastically, her voice ringing with vi. But then her smile faltered, and she bit her lip. “But… are they ever going to get bigger than this?” Worry flickered in her eyes as she peeked up at her sister.

  Quinn tilted her head thoughtfully, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Hmm… I read up on this, so you totally trust y sis on this one.” She poked her ow for emphasis. “I’m already a C cup. But if I keep w at it, maybe I could—no, wait—that’d be a disaster. Maybe I should keep them smaller—”

  Leona, unimpressed, pouted and crossed her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Quinn flushed at the reminder and cleared her throat. “ht!” She scrambled to recover, her cheeks pink. “Your birth mama—my aunt—had a fabulous set, and Mama’s and Goonie’s arely slouches either. So, like, you totally expect at least that much. It’s geid starting before puberty really kicks in means you’ll develop just like you’re supposed to. Yonna be just fine, promise.”

  Leona stared at her sister, her expression shifting from skepticism to amazement. “Wait… you care so much about me that you actually read up on what I’m going through?” Her voice softened, and she bli Quinn in awe.

  Quinn rubbed the back of her neck, avoiding her sister’s gaze as her cheeks deepened in color. “Well, yeah… I mean, you’re my little sister. It’s what I’m supposed to dht?” She waved it off like it was no big deal, though her shy grin said otherwise.

  Leona’s eyes shimmered with emotion. “Thanks, Quinn,” she said softly. For a moment, she felt overwhelmed—not just by her sister’s effort but also by how much she still had to learn. I ’t always rely on Quinn and Goonie, she thought. I o figure things out for myself someday.

  Sensing her little sister’s pensive mood, Quinn reached down and ran her fihrough Leona’s shoulder-length hair. “You’re looking good, y’know? You’re already so pretty. I know you’re worried about it, but trust me—you look more like a girl than a boy. Heck, you look more like a girl than I do half the time.”

  Leona’s cheeks went scarlet as she cpped her hands to them in delighted disbelief. “Really?!”

  Quinn smirked, giving her sister a sly look. “Yup. But don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

  Leona fidgeted, unsure whether to believe her sister’s pliment. She shifted nervously until Quinn broke the tension with a mischievous grin. “We should totally hit the beaetime soon. You should show all that off a little!” She gestured vaguely at Leona’s outfit but, for once, refrained from poking her.

  Leona’s smile froze as her eyes widened in horror. “A beach? Like… with a swimsuit?” Her voice climbed higher with each word as her mind raced through the possibilities, none of which seemed remotely okay.

  Right on cue, Goonie emerged from the house, her entrance marked by the tantalizing aroma of lemon cake wafting through the open door. She chuckled at the sight of the two girls sprawled in the grass. “Still pying ogether, I see. Leona, if you keep rolling around like that, you’ll ruin your new outfit.” Her eyes twinkled as she smirked knowingly. “Although… I already tell someohinking about turning some heads out there, hmm?”

  Leona ughed nervously, her smile stiff and unsure. “Uh… maybe?”

  Both girls froze, holding their breath, half-expeg Gooo shut the idea down. Instead, she sighed with mock seriousness. “We’ll need a week of boot camp before you make any sort of public debut, Leona. There’s plenty to cover—like how to deal with boys hitting on you, or what to do if a creepy adult approaches. And makeup. Oh, don’t think yetting out of learning makeup.” She wagged a fi them. “You’re both officially enrolled in Goonie’s Geous Girls’ Finishing School starting tomorrow.”

  “I wanna take Leona to a rave, too!” Quinn blurted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Leona, equally intrigued, lit up at the suggestion.

  Goonie’s expression darkened immediately. “Absolutely not! My heart ’t take ying Leona off on one of your wild escapades.”

  Quinn pouted, leaning forward with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay… a safe rave! You know, a mellow one!”

  Goonie arched an eyebrow, her skepticism clear. “Nope. Not happening.”

  “Then we at least get henna tattoos?” Quinn pressed, her enthusiasm reigniting. “They’re so beautiful and iing!”

  The word “tattoos” sent Goonie’s eyebrows shooting up, her face paling as she put a hand to her chest. “Tattoos?! Absolutely not!”

  “It’s henna, Mama!” Quinn excimed, throwing up her hands. “It’s not even perma!”

  Hearing the word ‘tattoo’ so many times in such a short span of time nearly gave Goohe aforementioned heart attack.

  Leona stood iore aisle, her gaze flitting over the dispy of purses Goonie had led them to. Rows htly colored handbags stretched out before her, some small and dainty, others big enough to hold half a wardrobe. She had always heard that girls were expected to carry a bag when they left the house, but the idea felt… daunting.

  Her fingers brushed over a soft pink purse decorated with sparkly hearts before moving to oh a bold geometric design. There were plenty made firls her age, sp embroidered or printed Nisdey Princesses and popur dolls, their vibrant colors practically shouting for attention. Leoated, tilting her head as she took in the variety. The branding wasn’t her favorite, but some of the designs and colors were, admittedly, pretty cute.

  She lingered in front of one particur bag—a small, round purse with Princess Oolong on it. It wasn’t perfect, but it had a charm she couldn’t ignore. If they had a Mistral-themed one, she thought wistfully, I’d have grabbed it by now.

  As she debated, Quinn appeared at her side with the subtlety of a wreg ball, dramatically dragging her palm down her face. “Are you seriously into purses?” she groaned, her tone dripping with mock disbelief. “That’s like—super girly.”

  Leona g her sister, biting her lip.

  Quinn twisted her lips and tinued, “I mean, I get it—you’re trying to be as feminine as possible, which is cool—but they’re so bulky. I tried carrying one once a few years ago and got sick of it in, like, a day. Everything I need? Pockets. Easy.” She shrugged like it was the most obvious solution in the world.

  Behind them, Goonie chuckled, stepping closer. “That’s you, Quinn—my darling tomboy. Your sister, oher hand, is transgender.” Her tone was ge firm. “I read that it’s on firls like Leona to experience a strong sense of dysphoria.”

  Quinn frowilting her head. “What’s ‘dysphoria’ mean?”

  Leona froze, her hand h over the Princess Oolong bag. The word hung in the air, and she looked to Goonie for an answer, curiosity and unease mingling in her expression.

  With a patient smile, Goonie expined, “Dysphoria is dissatisfa with life, or a deep sense of disfort and ay. It’s not exclusive tender people—everyone feels it at some point in their lives. But for someone like Leona, it be more specific, tied to how she sees herself. Buying something that makes her feel more like herself help ease those feelings.” Her gaze softened as she g Leona.

  Quinn sched her houghtfully before breaking into a wide grin. “I guess that makes sense. I’m just lucky I’m pretty happy as is.”

  Leona ughed, her sister’s fidenfectious. “Me too, actually!” she said, her voice bright. Then, l it, she added, “I mean, I used to feel like something was wrong—you know, the… the thiween my legs. It isn’t right. But…” She trailed off, gng back at the purses, her eyes kling with a giggle. “I don’t think any of these would make me happier than I already am now.”

  Goonie smiled warmly. “That’s the spirit. Still, when you go back to school, you might want to at least keep a small bag handy. If you make friends with irls, they’ll talk about, well… girl things. You don’t have to be the most fashionable girl in the world to fit in, but I’d reend steering clear of any versations about menstruation.”

  Quinn blushed instantly, her eyes widening before she dissolved into giggles.

  Leona blinked, her expression caught somewhere between fusion and fasation as she stared at Goonie. “Wait… what?”

  Goonie coughed awkwardly, clearly regretting her choice of words. “Oh—oh my…” she stammered, waving a hand as though that would erase the ent from existence.

  Quinn’s ughter doubled, growing wild and untrolble as she leaned against the shelf for support. Leona couldn’t help but join in, her giggles bubbling up despite her bewilderment.

  The awkward moment passed in a wave of ughter, leaving Goonie shaking her head but smiling all the same.

  Sp a new hairband Leona had picked out to match the light jacket Goonie had bought her, she walked nervously alongside Goonie and Quinn through the sprawling wilderness park in the heart of San Isidro. It was her first time truly stepping out in publice beginniransition, and the blend of excitement and ay c through her made her every step feel moal.

  The park was alive with activity. Bikers sped past on paved trails, joggers weaved between strolling families, and groups of hikers disappeared into shaded paths that twisted torivate nooks. The natural beauty couldn’t quite mask the edge of the city, with its notorious reputation for crime. Still, the park felt lively, almost festive, as they approached the veranda near a sun-dappled ke.

  “If the veranda’s full, we could always try the gazebo oher side,” Goonie suggested, her tone light and reassuring.

  Leona’s gaze darted nervously toward the small crowds they passed. She swore every gnce seemed to linger on her, even wheold herself otherwise. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her jacket, and she shifted closer to Goonie.

  Notig her sister’s tension, Quinn slowed her pad arched a brow. “Hey, you okay?”

  Leoated, then nodded quickly. “I’m fi’s just a little... embarrassing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down, avoiding the faces around her.

  “You’ll get over that awkwardness soon enough,” Goonie said, smilily as she reached over to pat Leona’s shoulder.

  “You think so?” Leona’s voice quavered. “But—they’re staring at me.”

  Gooopped walking and turo face her, bending slightly to catch her eyes. “Leona,” she said softly, “you think it’s obvious. But the truth is, few people care, and even feaying close attention.”

  Quinn chimed in with a pyful snort. “Yeah, no one’s staring at you, kiddo. You’re just another cute tomboy. Rex, will ya?”

  Leona gnced around uainly. “But there was a baby looking over its mom’s shoulder—right at me!” she said, her hands g nervously at her sides.

  Goonie chuckled and leaned closer, her voice soothing but firm. “Babies stare at everything, darling. They don’t know what’s what—they just think the world’s iing. That little one probably just thought you were fasating. Don’t let it get to you.”

  Leona bit her lip, turning the thought over in her mind before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

  “Not silly,” Goonie corrected gently, “just nervous. And that’s perfectly normal. But look around you.” She gestured to the vibrant park. “It’s a beautiful day. There’s nothing to worry about here.”

  Straightening her back, Leona nodded, a tentative smile f on her lips. “Okay. I do this.”

  “There you go!” Goonie said, taking Leona’s hands in hers and giving them an encing squeeze. “Now, how does it feel to shake off all that ay?” She winked.

  Leona’s smile grew wider, spreading across her face. “It feels… pretty good. And you’re right—it really is a beautiful day.”

  She slipped her hands free of Goonie’s hold and suddenly dashed ahead, her energy bubbling over. She bounded up the steps of the veranda, her eyes lighting up as she spotted ay bench retly vacated by a couple. Without hesitation, she vaulted over the seat, nding with a triumphant plop.

  Her gaze swept across the ke, its surface glittering like diamonds in the sunlight. Swans and ducks glided peacefully across the water, their refles rippling softly with each stroke. Leona sighed tentedly, letting the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the moment wash over her.

  From behind, Goonie and Quinn exged a smile before following at a slower pace. “She’s already settled in,” Goonie murmured, pride evident in her voice.