Some say a best friend is the person you can rely on to buy you food or let you steal theirs—either way, you won't starve. Others say they're the ones who listen to your rants without judging or complaining. But the best definition? They're the people who will fight for you and protect you, even if they're a thousand miles away.

Right now, Ellery's best friend was about to kill a man for her.

A thunderous bang echoed through the apartment as the front door slammed open, nearly flying off its hinges. The sheer force sent the wall hangings rattling, and the floorboards groaned in protest. A gust of wind rushed through the room, making the curtains billow dramatically.

And standing in the doorway, like an avenging angel in designer heels, was Mona.

Her purse dangled from one hand, its iron strap clenched so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her eyes, filled with an icy, murderous rage, locked onto Bud like a predator spotting its next meal.

"What do you think you're doing, Bud Carter?" she seethed, her voice so low and dangerous that even Ellery felt a chill.

Bud shot up so fast that he nearly stumbled over his own feet. "Mona! Babe, this—it's not what you think!" he stammered, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Mona cocked her head, taking a slow, calculated step forward. "Oh, really?"

And then with the speed of lightning, she swung her purse like a medieval flail.

CRACK!

The iron strap slammed into Bud's face, sending him tumbling backward. A strangled yelp escaped his lips as he clutched his rapidly swelling eye.

"What the hell, Mona!?" he cried, blinking furiously.

She dropped her purse, kicked off her heels, and cracked her knuckles. "Ellery," she said, not taking her eyes off Bud. "Move."

Ellery rolled to the side just in time as Mona drove her foot into Bud's stomach. He let out a wheeze and doubled over.

Not done yet, Mona took a running start, spun on her heel, and slammed a roundhouse kick right to his temple.

Bud crumpled like a bag of potatoes, groaning in pain. Then, as if someone flipped a light switch, he went still.

Watching Bud lie there, bruised and battered, Ellery suddenly remembered the first time she met Mona.

ㅤ𐚁ㅤMiddle School. Seventh Gradeㅤ𐚁ㅤ

Ellery was seated in the school cafeteria, with her peanut butter sandwich when Josh Miller, the school's biggest bully, snatched it right off her tray.

"Thanks for the snack, loser," he sneered, taking a big, exaggerated bite.

Ellery's face burned with humiliation. She reached for it, but Josh shoved her back against the table. "What are you gonna do about it?" he taunted, chewing obnoxiously.

She was about to say nothing —because what could she do?—when suddenly, a blur of red hair shot past her. And then, with zero hesitation, a tiny fist punched Josh right in the mouth.

The sickening crunch of knuckles against teeth silenced the entire cafeteria.

Josh stumbled back, clutching his face, and spat out one of his front teeth.

Ellery gasped.

It was Mona Burton, the school beauty rumored to have a crush on Josh. She stood over him—wild red hair in a messy ponytail, freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks like constellation— and titled her head, unimpressed.

Her green eyes, burning with righteous fury, flicked down to Ellery's stolen sandwich—now discarded on the floor—and then back to Josh.

"Try that again," she warned, cracking her knuckles, "and I'll knock out the rest."

Josh never messed with Ellery again.

ㅤ𐚁ㅤPresent Dayㅤ𐚁ㅤ

Back in the present, Ellery blinked as the memory faded. Mona was rushing toward her now, just like she had all those years ago.

"Are you okay?" Mona's hands were suddenly on her shoulders, checking for any signs of injury. "Did that asshole hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Ellery, still catching her breath, pushed herself up on her elbows, and eyed Bud's motionless form. "Uh... is he dead?"

Mona nudged him with the toe of her foot. He didn't move, but she saw his chest rise and fall as he breathe.

"Well," Mona exhaled sharply, running a hand over her forehead, smearing away a bead of sweat. "Unfortunately, no."

ㅤ𐚁ㅤMinutes Laterㅤ𐚁ㅤ

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

Mona pressed the phone to her ear. "Please help us! A thief broke into our house and tried to molest my friend!"

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Can you provide me with your name and location."

"Mona's eyes flicked to Bud's unconscious body. "My name is Mona. We're at 123 Oak Street, apartment 4B. Please hurry!"

Thirty minutes later, screeching tires shattered the quiet night as two police cars came to a stop in front of the building.

The flashing red and blue lights painted eerie streaks across the neighboring buildings, waking up half the street. Some residents peeked through their curtains; others stepped onto balconies, whispering among themselves.

Inside the apartment, Ellery grabbed a glass of water, crouched beside Bud, and splashed it onto his face.

He roared to life, sputtering and thrashing like a worm on hot pavement.

Then, with a sudden bang, the door flew open, again. Two bulky, determined police officers stormed into the room, their boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Their expressions were sharp, their eyes scanning the room with practiced intensity.

Bud froze.

The moment his gaze met the officers, his entire body tensed. His lips were swollen, one eye was already blackening, and his shirt was wrinkled and stained with sweat.

As the officers approached, their voices clipped and authoritative, Bud's eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist.

"Hand's behind your back!" one of the officers barked.

Bud hesitated.

Big mistake.

The officers didn't wait—they grabbed him, twisted his arms behind him, and with a sharp metallic click, the handcuffs locked in place.

"Are you girls okay?" One of the officers asked, scanning them for injuries. "Was anything broken or stolen?"

"Just his bones."

Ellery stifled a laugh at her friend's words. "Nothing was stolen, we're just glad you came in time."

The officers shared a look, then gave Bud a shove toward the door. His feet stumbled over the threshold, his resistance weak against their combined strength. As they dragged him out, Bud's eyes flicked to Ellery.

She was standing beside Mona, smirking. His lips curled in frustration.

As he was pushed into the police car, Mona leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with amusement. Just before the door shut, she mouthed two words at him: fuck you.

Bud glared, but the door slammed shut before he could say anything.

As the police cars pulled away, Ellery lifted her head and caught sight of Mrs. Nickel, the elderly woman in apartment 4B, standing by her bedroom window, clutching a steaming cup of coffee.

The glass was fogged up from the heat, but her annoyed scowl was crystal clear.

Ellery lifted a hand to wave. Mrs. Nickel, stern face as ever, simply shut her blinds.

Mona followed Ellery's gaze. "What?"

"She hates noise," Ellery sighed. "If she could, she'd fine us for breathing too loudly."

Mona chuckled. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

"Same. Let's order pizza?"

Mona closed the front door, pulled out her phone and started scrolling. "Or cheese burgers and burritos?"

"Ellery perked up. "Two burritos and a diet coke."

"Done."

Ellery's stomach rumbled, making Mona burst out laughing.

"I better hurry and place this order before you die of starvation. But first, let's try and shower."

Ellery rolled her eyes, but smiled. She looked at Mona, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Mona glanced up. "For what?"

"For saving me back there."

Mona shrugged. "Best friends. They mess with you, they mess with me. They mess with us..."

"Ellery grinned. "... they're dead."