The first person to arrive is Tasha, still in pajama pants with her laptop bag slung over her shoulder. Her hair is sticking up on one side, and she's wearing what looks like three different jackets.

  "Holy shit," she says when she sees me. "You look awful."

  "Good morning to you too," I reply. I'm still in the command center, staring blankly at the whiteboard. My phone has been buzzing constantly with team responses, each one increasingly alarmed. My ear hurts, but it's slowly, uh, growing back. Like, not that it's off, but. Like. Ow. Scabbed over and forming the weird gross white threads stage.

  Tasha drops her bag on the desk and immediately starts setting up her equipment. "What happened? Your text was vague, and Lily's freaking out."

  "Shrike broke into my house." The words feel strange coming out of my mouth. "He was in my bedroom. Threatened my parents. Said he'd planted spike traps in the walls."

  Her hands freeze over her keyboard. "He was in your room? While you were sleeping?"

  "I woke up when he was already there."

  "That's..." She shakes her head, unable to find words for a moment. "How did he find you? We've been so careful about separating Bloodhound from Sam Small."

  I rub my temples. "I don't know. I have to guess he connected some dots from his crazy scavenger hunt. Maybe he tailed my parents when they left. I really couldn't tell you. Does it matter how?"

  "It absolutely matters," Tasha argues, already typing. "If he compromised our operational security--"

  "My parents are upstairs," I interrupt. "They're staying here for now."

  That stops her. "Here? As in, the Music Hall?"

  "Nowhere else to go that's safe." I gesture vaguely. "We've already got security, and he'd have to get through all of us to reach them."

  Tasha looks concerned but nods. "Sam, if he tracked you here..."

  "I know."

  The door opens again, and Maggie bursts in, breathless and flushed. She's wearing slippers instead of shoes and her jacket is buttoned wrong.

  "Sam!" She practically tackles me with a hug. "Are you okay? What happened? Did he hurt you? Oh my God, is that blood on your ear?"

  "I'm fine," I say, awkwardly patting her back. "Just a scratch."

  "Your parents?"

  "Upstairs. They're fine too."

  Maggie finally releases me, her eyes wide with concern. "What do we do now?"

  Before I can answer, Lily arrives with Amelia close behind. They're both more put-together than Maggie, but their faces show the same worry. Amelia has her scooter helmet tucked under one arm.

  "Meeting room. I'll explain everything once," I say.

  We gather around the table, and I relay the night's events as clinically as possible. The security alert. Shrike in my doorway. The Nazi armband. His threats against my parents. The spike staircase. Everything except the ice in my veins when I saw him standing there.

  "He wants me to leave an 'invitation' at the Metropolitan Opera House," I finish. "Said I can pick the place and day, he'll pick the time."

  "You're not actually considering meeting him," Amelia says, rolling her eyes.

  "I'm considering all options."

  "There's no option where you face him alone," Lily says firmly. "That's not happening."

  "I didn't say alone."

  "You're not facing him at all," Tasha interrupts. "This is beyond us, Sam. This guy wants you D E A D dead. And in the most humiliating way he can think of. He won't survive a manhunt for long."

  I feel a flash of irritation. "I didn't call you here for a lecture."

  "Then why did you call us?" Amelia asks, eyebrow raised.

  The question catches me off guard. Why did I call them? For protection? For ideas? For comfort?

  "Because we're a team," I say finally. "And I need your help figuring out what to do next."

  "What you do next," says a new voice from the doorway, "is let the authorities handle this."

  Councilman Jamal Davis stands there, looking exhausted but alert in a hastily thrown-on suit. His tie is slightly crooked, and there's a spot on his collar that might be toothpaste.

  "Mr. Davis," I acknowledge, standing up. "Thanks for coming."

  He enters the room, nodding to each team member. "These must be the Auditors I've heard so much about."

  "Most of them," I confirm. "Tasha, Maggie, Lily, Amelia. We're still missing Derek."

  "He's part of the team? I thought he was just like an occasional buddy," Lily asks.

  Amelia and Tasha glance at each other and shrug.

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  "I've made some calls," Davis says, taking a seat at the head of the table without being invited. "The NSRA is prioritizing Shrike's capture. They've got agents mobilizing now to sweep your neighborhood. I can't imagine he'd be getting very far without any sort of mobility powers. Everything he has is already well-documented on file."

  "Great," I say, trying not to sound as skeptical as I feel. "But what about my family? We can't stay here forever."

  Davis folds his hands on the table. "That's what I want to discuss. There are options, but none of them are... ideal."

  "Like witness protection," I say flatly.

  "Among others." He looks around the table. "I understand your team has been effective at local operations, but this is different. Shrike is hunting you specifically. He's methodical, he's patient, and he's had fifteen years in Daedalus to plan his revenge on Liberty Belle - who's no longer available as a target."

  "So I'm the substitute," I finish for him.

  "Unfortunately, yes." Davis sighs. "The police can establish a protective detail around this location, but that's a short-term solution. NSRA is proposing temporary relocation until Shrike is captured. We can set you up in a hotel that's not in the area, somewhere he wouldn't be able to get to in time. We have planes. He has his feet and an all-points bulletin."

  "You mean running away," I counter.

  "I mean surviving," he corrects, his voice sharpening. "Look, I understand the hero mentality. I've worked with the Defenders for years. But you're sixteen, Sam. There's no shame in letting professionals handle this."

  "Professionals like the ones who let him escape Daedalus in the first place?" Maggie blurts out, then immediately looks embarrassed.

  Davis doesn't flinch. "That's precisely why this is being treated with such urgency. The prison break was a massive security failure, and capturing the escapees is the highest priority. The NSRA has limited resources spread across multiple priorities. Shrike wasn't initially considered the highest threat among the escapees. I don't think anyone expected him to beeline to Philadelphia with Liberty Belle dead."

  "Well, he should have been," I mutter. "Considered."

  "Regardless," Davis continues, "we're here now. And I need to know what you want to do, Sam. Because I'm sure your parents and team will follow your lead, but they're terrified. As they should be."

  My parents following my lead. When did that happen?

  "I'm sorry if I didn't make this clear, but I need to. Explain why I'm being stubborn so you don't think I'm just being an obstinate asshole for no reason. Shrike made it very clear that if I try to 'play with him'," I swallow hard. "He said he'd 'impale everyone I've ever met before handling our business.' Those were his exact words."

  The room goes silent. Davis's expression shifts from determined to deeply troubled.

  "Why didn't you say that?" Lily asks quietly.

  "I didn't want you guys to have to worry about it, man," I say, grabbing the top of my hair with one hand, scrunching it up into a little ball. "That's why witness protection isn't simple. It's not just my family at risk. It's all of you. It's everyone at school. It's Pop-pop Moe. It's my old middle school friends. Anyone I've ever interacted with. I still don't even know how he found my house. He's trying to torture me. I don't think he'd do any of the theatrics if he was going to attack any of you. I think he'd just sneak up on you and stab you."

  Davis's face blanches. "Well, that certainly complicates matters."

  "You think?" I can't keep the edge from my voice. "So unless you can relocate half of Philadelphia, we need another plan."

  "We could place protective details on key individuals," Davis says, but he doesn't sound convinced. "Priority protection for your immediate circle."

  "For how long?" Amelia challenges. "Days? Weeks? Months? How long before those resources get pulled for some other crisis?"

  I look around at my friends' faces. They're no longer just concerned about me - they're concerned about themselves, their families, everyone connected to me. The relief I'd seen earlier at the prospect of a professional solution has vanished.

  "There has to be another way," I insist. "Something that doesn't involve running and hiding while leaving everyone else exposed."

  "Like what?" Davis challenges, though with less confidence now. "Facing him directly? That's exactly what he wants, Sam. It's a trap."

  "Maybe we can set our own trap," Lily suggests. "Use Sam as bait but have a whole team ready to take him down."

  Davis shakes his head. "Too risky. This man has demonstrated he can penetrate residential security without detection. He's been planning this for years."

  "What about the Defenders?" Amelia asks. "Could Sam and her family stay at their headquarters?"

  "Possible, but not ideal," Davis admits. "It's designed as an operational base, not a residential facility. And it would mean pulling Defenders away from their regular duties. This location is less well known. Frankly, I think if you had to stay here, the Music Hall is the best option."

  The conversation continues in circles, but the tenor has changed. It's no longer about my safety alone - it's about weighing impossible choices. Remote cabin for my family while everyone else takes their chances? Defenders protection for some but not all? Direct confrontation with overwhelming force?

  Throughout it all, I can feel the walls closing in. Every option leaves someone vulnerable. There is no perfect solution, no clean escape. And somewhere in Philadelphia, Shrike is waiting, watching, planning his next move.

  I'm about to push back again when the security alert chimes.

  "Someone's at the side entrance," Tasha announces, checking her tablet.

  "Police?" Davis asks, tensing.

  Tasha relaxes as she looks at the camera feed. "No, it's Derek. He looks... rough."

  I check the time: 7:15 AM. Derek would have just transformed back about an hour ago. He must have come straight here.

  "Let him in," I tell her. "He's part of this too."

  Tasha taps the remote entry code, and a few moments later, Derek stumbles into the meeting room. He looks exactly like someone who spent the night as a wolf - exhausted, disheveled, with dark circles under his eyes. He's wearing sweatpants and a stained t-shirt that he probably keeps in his cage.

  "What's the emergency?" he rasps, then stops when he sees Davis. "Whoa. Councilman. This must be bad."

  "Shrike found Sam's house," Maggie explains quickly. "Threatened her family. They're staying here now."

  Derek's bloodshot eyes widen as he takes in this information. He drops heavily into an empty chair. "Shit."

  "Mr. Davis was just explaining the witness protection option," I say, watching Derek carefully.

  He snorts. "Yeah, good luck with that. Sam would rather fight a shark tank than hide."

  "Not helpful," I mutter.

  "It's not about what Sam would prefer," Davis says firmly. "It's about what keeps everyone alive."

  Derek looks around the table, then back at me. "What's your plan, then? Because you always have one, even when it's terrible."

  Despite everything, I almost smile at that. "Working on it."

  "Witness protection isn't the only option," Davis clarifies, perhaps sensing he's losing ground. "There are various security arrangements we could implement. But temporary relocation would be the safest approach."

  Derek rubs his face, looking even more exhausted. "When's the last time anyone's seen Shrike? Besides your bedroom visit?"

  "That's the problem," Tasha says. "Nobody's seen him. Just his... art installations."

  "The birds," Derek nods. "And now he's moved on to people."

  A new tension fills the room as everyone processes this. Shrike isn't just after me - he's established a pattern of escalation that suggests he's willing to harm others to get to me.

  "I need to think," I say finally, standing up. "Davis, can you check on my parents? Let them know what options we're considering?"

  He looks like he wants to argue but nods. "Of course. They should be part of this conversation anyway."

  As he heads upstairs, I turn to my team. "I need ideas. Real ones. Not just 'let the adults handle it.'"

  Derek leans forward, despite looking like he might pass out. "You know there's only one way this ends, right? You're going to have to face him."

  "I know," I admit. "But on my terms, not his."

  "And what are your terms?" Lily asks quietly.

  I look around at my team - my friends - and realize I don't have an answer.