Derrick
I knew this fight was coming.
I just hoped—selfishly—that it would wait.
Samarra stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, jaw set in that way that meant she'd already decided and was now only humouring us. Rain ticked steadily against the windows, each drop tapping out time I didn't have.
"We've discussed this," I say carefully. "With your condition, it isn't advisable for you to attend a regular school."
She exhales sharply through her nose. A warning sign. "You keep saying condition like it's a mild allergy."
Catherine leans against the counter, arms crossed. Silent. Watching. Waiting to see which way I'll fall.
"I want to feel normal," Sam says.
There it is.
Not I want friends.
Not I want school.
Normal.
I close my eyes for half a second. Just long enough to steady myself.
"Normal," I repeat. "Means noise. Crowds. Touch. Chaos. You shut down in grocery stores, Sam."
"I manage."
"You dissociate."
"I cope."
"You suffer."
Her eyes flash. Green, sharp, furious "So, I should what? Sit in this house forever? Let my entire life happen through a window because it makes you feel safer?"
The blow hits its target with practiced precision.
I look at her and see sixteen years of scraped knees, nightmares and whispered reassurances in the dark. See the little girl who clung to my coat like I was the only solid thing in the world.
And layered underneath her—
I see Aleira.
Standing in defiance of men who thought obedience was righteousness. Chin lifted. Hands shaking. Eyes burning with the same quiet fury.
This isn't right, she'd said once.
And if no one questions it, then what are we even protecting?
"Derrick," Catherine says softly. A warning. Or permission. I'm not sure which.
Sam takes a step closer. "I don't want to be protected from living."
The words land cleanly. No accusation. No drama.
Just truth.
I look at her, really look, and something in my chest fractures.
She's not asking for recklessness.
She's asking for normalcy.
I swallow. "You finish this year," I say slowly. "You follow the rules. You tell us when it's too much. The second it becomes dangerous; we pull you out."
Her breath catches. She tries to hide it her excitement and fails miserably.
"You're serious?" she asks a broad grin spreading across her face.
I nod once. "I'm serious."
"You agree?" she turns to Catherine, practically beaming. And in that moment, I would sign away Heaven itself if it meant keeping that look on her face a little longer.
Catherine looks at me for confirmation and then nods.
Sam flings her arms around my neck and hugs me tightly and I can't help but reach around her and press her against me for me moment. She lets go, giving Catherine the same treatment and then bounces off to her room.
Catherine watches the doorway for a long moment. "You know what this risks."
"I know," I say.
"And you still chose her happiness"
I meet Catherine's gaze. "I always will."
That night, we work.
Old paper. New ink. Stolen seals. Carefully forged records layered over existing human bureaucracy like a second skin. Catherine handles the details. I handle the things that require… persuasion.
By dawn, Samarra exists on paper.
A real address.
A real history.
A place at Carter High.
As I press the final seal into the document, my hand hesitates.
Aleira had stood like that too, fighting for something small and human in a world that demanded obedience.
She'd paid for it.
I close my eyes, just for a moment, and whisper a promise I know better than to make.
Not this time.
When I step back into the hallway, Sam's door is cracked open. Light spills out. I hear her moving around, humming softly, something careless. Happy.
It's worth the risk.
Even if it damns me all over again.