~A/N: Okay, I have to say this. This is my favorite chapter in this entire book. It is also the longest chapter as this is now the climax of the story. A LOT will happen ;)

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~Sara~

It didn't really connect with them at first.

Sara threw her arms around her cousin, and Margaret squeezed her in a hug, both remaining like that for a few seconds.

"She doesn't look too dead to me," said Minho, and Sara glared at him.

When they pulled back, Sara was at a loss for words, confused with everything she'd been told about Margaret's fate in the past. "H—how—?"

"It's a long story, trust me," Margaret interrupted her. "I'm here to help you, that's all that matters. Now where are you all headed?"

"My room. There's a flat trans there," said Sara, but that matter suddenly wasn't the most important one at that moment anymore.

"Great, let's go."

Sara still couldn't shake the uncertainty off her shoulders so she stopped her cousin by grabbing her arm. "Maggie, I thought you were dead. I spent half my time here trying to find you and our moms... until I was told Janson killed you all. My mom went to look for you both, and she never came back."

Sara was overjoyed to see her long-lost cousin was alive, but that simultaneously saddened her.

Margaret underwent atrocious moments if she was alive, and to see what she'd become was frightening. She was basically a mercenary for The Right Arm. The way she spoke with confidence with Gally, as if she were behind a whole operation. And the fact that she was the one person Vince cared about and listened to—knowing what kind of person Vince really was—Sara couldn't even imagine the kind of things he'd made Margaret do for him.

But Vince listened to her. If it weren't because Margaret knew Sara was the one who spoke with her through the transceiver, she wouldn't have convinced Vince to delay the explosions. Sara, along with the entire crowd of Immunes, wouldn't be alive.

Margaret did look uncomfortable after Sara's words. "Your mom went to our house that day of the raid?" she asked, and Sara nodded. Margaret sighed. "I'm sorry, but she sealed her own fate. My mom was already dead, and I... well I wasn't quite dead yet, but..." She shrugged.

Sara couldn't believe how cold her cousin's words sounded. "My mom would've died either way. My parents and aunt Anne died all because Janson wanted to get to me, okay? He's kept me here, and he lied to me, making me think he'd rescued me that day. He brought me here and promised he'd find you guys."

Margaret furrowed her eyebrows, but then she made a face, like she caught on to something. "You're one of the six, huh? Well, I guess seven now. That's why. He only wants the pot of gold in your genes." Sara nodded, corroborating everything. "But who told you the truth? 'Cause he really had you fooled."

All of a sudden, Sara remembered what Gally had told her about her cousin, when she thought May was someone different. "Rebecca. She was like a mother to me." She hoped she could clear that issue up; it was scary to think Margaret was willing to have Vince kill her.

Margaret grimaced, inhaling deeply. "Rebecca, huh?" She sounded cunning, especially when she squinted her eyes.

"I heard you wanted her dead," Sara told her, giving her cousin a skeptical look.

Margaret looked like she wanted to laugh, and Sara was genuinely scared of the kind of person her cousin had become.

"You think I can't hate her?" asked Margaret. "I've been keeping up with news of my dad." Sara wasn't quite understanding where Margaret was going with that. "Sara, he has history with her, even before the raid, okay? He was cheating on mom and got so tired of her complaints that he killed her. And I was there to watch, so he had no other choice; I'd seen too much. But it didn't work with me."

"Maggie, I can't even imagine what you went through, but Becca's innocent," said Sara, and Margaret raised an eyebrow. "Janson forced her, and she risked her life for me, my boyfriend, and all my friends."

Minho sighed. "That's true. She saved our butts and hates your daddy just like we do."

Margaret lowered her eyebrows and gave Minho an annoyed look. "You the boyfriend?"

He made a face and laughed. "Not Sara's, though."

As soon as the words left his lips, Rachel's cheeks turned three shades darker.

Confused, Margaret turned to her cousin, but Sara averted her eyes, stricken by the reminder that Newt wasn't there with her. "Rebecca tried her best, but Newt..."

"Rebecca's just another victim. She doesn't deserve the blame," Rachel informed Margaret, trying to avoid the painful subject through another tangent for Sara's sake. For that, Sara sent a grateful smile in her direction.

"What were you doing in here, though?" asked Thomas. "You guys seriously need more weapons?" he asked, eyeing the knife and the gun that were already strapped to her vest.

Margaret didn't look too comfortable once the others started asking her things.

And it was more than certain that her cousin was hunting Rebecca down to kill her since Vince hadn't done the job for her.

Scared that it could somehow be the case, Sara placed her hand on her cousin's arm.

"Come with us, and you'll be fine," she said, hoping to give Rebecca time to return to HQ, and that Margaret wouldn't find her in such a large crowd.

Newt was gone, but that didn't mean Chuck and Rebecca couldn't have a chance to come back and join them. Sara wasn't willing to leave them behind; they were all going to cross that flat trans with the crowd no matter what.

Her cousin only stared at her, probably a million thoughts going through her mind.

"You can't convince me Rebecca's completely innocent. C'mon, she's the daughter of the chancellor and ex-chancellor of WICKED. She's practically the heir of this garbage," she said, looking around at the building. "And I can't let that continue, especially not after she got involved with the Assistant Director, my dad. That slut's got WICKED written all over her," she finished, passing her thumb and index fingers across her own forehead.

Sara started breathing so intensely through her nose, and she took a daring step toward her before Minho and Thomas held her by the arms.

"You can't blame a daughter for her parents' mistakes, or what does that say about you, huh?" Sara asked her. "Should I hate you, then, because your dad's a domestic killer? Does that mean you should pay for his crimes?"

"Don't pull that card on me—"

Minho cleared his throat. "Daddy Janson thinks he's above the chancellor after he gained more popularity and support than her. Do you really think Rebecca would take over? No, shuck-face. Your rat daddy is the loco one. He uses Rebecca as a pleasure toy—"

"And what about Vince?" Sara interrupted him. "He's crazy, but you defend him because he took care of you. I'm not judging you because you're basically surviving with a gun in hand. I'm just telling you to realize that Becca is to me like Vince is to you. No one's perfect, but please don't go and kill the only person who's been my family in the past three years."

Margaret looked at her for a while, and Sara could tell she'd penetrated her walls, or at least she bore a small hole through them. Her cousin smiled slightly before nodding.

"Go get the crowd."

❀❀❀

"Do you trust her?" asked Minho as they ran across each hallway, making their way to Sara's room. She wanted to say she did, but even she didn't know.

"Not really, no. She's so... different," she replied. "But you know, Vince trained her."

"Yeah, well..." he began. "I never thought I would live long enough to meet Rat Man's daughter. Real sweet girl, isn't she."

"Slim it," Sara said in a stern voice.

"How did she survive, though?" asked Thomas.

Sara tilted her head to the side. "Wish I knew."

She then heard someone gasp and shout, "Watch out!"

She hadn't even had time to turn around and see what was going on before something struck her on her leg, making her stumble and fall over in excruciating pain.

Everyone immediately stopped on their tracks.

Sara groaned and rolled on the floor as the pain on her leg traveled upwards. Sparks of electricity coursed through her body, and her leg felt like someone had dipped it in molten wax.

When her vision adjusted to the commotion behind her, she saw Rat Man, holding a launcher, and plenty of his men with one too, standing around him.

"Where are you guys going in such a hurry?" asked Rat Man, his voice so sadistic as his face reflected his mock innocence.

Minho and the others immediately raised their launchers at Rat Man and his men.

"You know, just... looking around to see where we should go on vacation," said Minho.

"I'm not here to waste my time with any of you," he said, then he looked at Sara. "I'm giving you this last chance to turn yourself in with no violence, and I'll let everyone else go."

"You've lost," Sara whispered, almost mocking him. "This is the part where you give up. Your men are getting slaughtered, and they're coming for you too." She was struggling to get to her feet, but Thomas helped her up.

Janson suddenly dropped the launcher to the floor, raising his hands. "Look. See? Today's the last day I ever use violence to get what I want. Come back to me, dear. Please."

Sara couldn't help but stare at the noticeable veins on his neck. He was getting worse, and he would never stop trying until he obtained what he wanted. Rat Man had reached the point of despair.

"No sir, you're not getting anything from me," said Sara.

Janson pulled out a gun from his coat, cocked it, and pressed it right at Sara's forehead. "I could very much immobilize you and take what's mine."

"What happened to today being the last day you used violence?" asked Sara, staring at Rat Man with fury as the metal dug into her skin.

"The day's not over, is it?" he asked, smirking at her.

"That's it, old man," she heard Minho say, and she saw him, Rachel, and Thomas immediately move forward, threatening Rat Man with their launchers.

But they weren't much help, because a whole new line of WICKED guards returned the threat, but with firearms. Rat Man and his men stopped their little game with the launchers; this was gonna be resolved with gunfire.

The crowd of Immunes had no protection, so Teresa and Aris began to lead the group out immediately.

Everything was happening so fast, and Sara stood with terror as Lisa came up, pointing a firearm at her forehead while Janson started shooting at the group as soon as they started to flee. Sara couldn't move at all, not with Lisa pressing that gun against her skin.

But something peculiar happened.

Janson only shot twice before he got distracted, looking around as if he'd seen a ghost. He dropped the gun and turned to the rest, as if wanting to check that they'd seen what he'd seen. He was breathing profusely, and his face went pale. Sara had never seen him look so disturbed.

Lisa also got distracted, and Sara took that opportunity to elbow her on the face and snatch the gun herself. She didn't know what to do with an actual gun in hand, but she knew she wasn't gonna use it. She swore she wouldn't, but she also didn't want to get shot, so she pointed it at Lisa to keep her on the ground.

"Not so fast, Sara," said Janson. He nodded over at some guards that were hiding behind the lab wall, and the guards revealed themselves, dragging someone in with them. "You shoot, and everyone fighting for you in this room dies."

Sara was horrified.

When did Becca even get here? And where's Chuck?

The woman looked terrified as one of the guards threatened to shoot her, but Janson ordered them to release her as he walked towards her.

"You could've had it all with me," he told her. "You were always my favorite. But you had to stick your nose where you shouldn't have, and you let some useless surveillance girl take your place."

When Sara looked down at Lisa, she could tell the young woman was full of resentment, and she finally understood why she betrayed Rebecca. Lisa wanted to be just like her. And what was worse, since Lisa started crying, it seemed like she actually felt something for Rat Man.

"Good," said Rebecca, with a huge smile on her face. "I've never felt freer and happier."

Janson grabbed Lisa and forced her to walk up to Rebecca. "Tell her how I've treated you," he told the younger woman.

Lisa faced up with Rebecca, glaring at her. "Mr. Janson gave me all I ever wanted. Everything that was yours."

But Rebecca didn't falter, maintaining a bold look. "I'd say I feel bad for you, but we're both better off where we're at."

Janson pulled Lisa away from her, and he stood right in front of Rebecca this time. "You're gonna tell me you didn't enjoy our nights together?" he asked her, trying to sound tender, but the anger didn't allow it.

Rebecca made a face of disgust that Sara had never seen on her before. "Those were the worst moments of my entire life," she added, a fierce look on her face. Sara felt every single drop of anger Rebecca was feeling. But then she smiled again, and Sara was confused. "You think you're so smart; that you've won. But it's time for Sara and her friends to get the freedom they deserve. And as you once told me, even the most intelligent have their weakness. You're in for a surprise," she almost whispered.

Sara was confused as Rebecca said that. Unless someone came to help them, they were all gonna get killed.

"You are too," Rat Man muttered, before swiftly pulling out a dagger from his coat and digging it straight into her abdomen; he pulled it back out all bloody.

"No!" Sara cried as she broke free from Lisa trying to hold her down.

Rebecca grunted at the impact, and with gasping breaths, she collapsed to the floor, clutching the wound as her clothes and hands were soaking in red.

Sara reached Rebecca right as she fell, and she held the woman on her lap while tears streamed down her face. "No, Becca, please. Look at me, come on!" She helped her put pressure on the wound, to stop the bleeding. "Hang on, we can help you."

The woman weakly fluttered her eyes open as she breathed with difficulty. "No, it's okay," she managed to say in between gasps. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! It's not fair! I can't lose you too," Sara sobbed. The woman let out tears of her own as she looked at the girl. "What about your dream, Becca?" cried Sara. "Come on, you're so close."

"My dream came true, Sarita," said the woman, taking a shaky breath. "You're my family. My daughter. And you're all safe now." She then sniffled and grabbed Sara's hands in hers. "Please do me a favor. Tell Jorge I would've loved to be his bombon." She smiled, and Sara grinned in the middle of her crying. "Please don't cry. I'm happy, and I'm sure you will be too."

Sara didn't understand why she was saying that, or why Rebecca was so at peace with losing her life at this point. It didn't make sense.

And Sara watched in sorrow as Rebecca Paige-Anderson closed her eyes forever, her hands falling limp from Sara's own hands.

Sara hugged Rebecca's body to her chest, sobbing over the loss of the one who made everything possible; the woman she owed her life to. And the grief of losing Newt came crashing down at once in addition to Rebecca's loss, making her sob loudly and agonizingly.

Death had taken away, for the second time, two giant pieces of her soul. And it hurt like none other.

Sara slowly turned around to look at Rat Man. Her parents, Rebecca, and Newt too, they were all gone. Four people she'd lost, and the source of those losses made her blind to everything else except his miserable rat face.

He had the audacity to approach her and try to place his hand on her shoulder.

With feral rage, Sara caught him off guard, grabbing him by the shirt so suddenly before snatching the gun she'd taken from Lisa from the floor, and pointing the firearm at his forehead. It was just like he'd done to her. She was breathing so intensely, and she almost couldn't believe she finally had him under her power like that.

"Careful with that," he said, raising his hands, his voice giving away he was somewhat nervous.

"This is the last time you kill someone, you hear me?" she muttered. "I should've done this a long time ago." She cocked the gun and firmly placed her finger on the trigger.

She had sworn to herself that she would never kill a human being, but she'd reached her limit of patience with this man. She felt like she completely failed to obtain justice for her parents. Nothing was done to make him pay back then, but now that he'd taken the most important person left in her life, there was no more pardon.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of multiple grenades being fired. She looked up to see the guards, the ones that were threatening her friends, collapse to the floor in a mess of electricity. In her heart, she thanked whoever fired that launcher at the remaining guards, but this was her moment to claim justice.

She heard several footsteps approaching, and she refused to look and see who it was. Her hand was beginning to shake, her finger still hovering over the trigger. She was tired of showing humanity.

She'd lost everything and everyone she loved.

Her friends were still there, but that was different. She'd lost pieces of her soul; surely, they'd understand. And the only family she had left was a killer herself. It didn't matter anymore.

He deserves it, she told herself.

"Sara, don't," she heard Margaret's voice.

When Sara looked to the side, she saw her cousin standing there with a few members of The Right Arm. She assumed maybe they were the ones who shot the grenades, but it was strange since The Right Arm always used their own weapons, not WICKED's.

"What do you mean? He killed aunt Anne and tried to kill you too," Sara argued, looking at her cousin with confusion.

"Maggie, sweetie," said Rat Man, staring at his daughter with wide eyes. "I wasn't going mad, you're alive."

Sara then realized why he got distracted when he was shooting at the fleeing crowd.

"Keep your mouth shut," Sara gritted her teeth, pressing the gun even harder against his skin.

"I'm serious, don't do it," Margaret snapped, and the more she insisted, the harder it was for Sara to continue holding that gun.

"You're a killer, and you're telling me not to kill?" asked Sara. "Or what, are you happy he killed your target?"

"That's exactly why I'm telling you not to kill him. It has nothing to do with Rebecca," said Margaret. "I know that as soon as you pull that trigger, you're gonna feel guilty. You don't wanna do this, I know you don't." Sara grimaced, trying to stay firm with her decision, but her hand was shaking even harder. "Trust me," her cousin added.

"Ugh!" Sara cried out with fury before pushing Rat Man and lowering the firearm. The Right Arm immediately pointed their guns at Rat Man to keep him in place.

She looked at her friends, and she could clearly see the relief in their faces.

Next was a shuffling noise behind her, and the sound of someone panting followed it.

Sara watched as Minho and the other two went wide-eyed, and their mouths agape. That was enough to spark her curiosity, and she turned around.

She almost fainted.

After everything that happened, and every surprise Sara received on that very day, this was the least expected one.

It was none other than Newt standing there, with a launcher in hand.

He was panting, but that was as much ailment she noticed on him. The same loving pair of brown eyes stared back at her as a small smile began to grow on his face, getting bigger as Sara's features broke into relief and utter shock.

She let out a quivering laugh before she dropped the gun and ran to him.

There'd never been a time when she was more excited to run than in that moment. And it was also the case for Newt, apparently. She didn't know whether to run up to him and hug the living daylights out of him or slap him for making her suffer bitterly for his presumed death.

But that didn't matter when she literally threw herself at him, jumping just in time for him to catch her. Chest to chest, the force was so strong it sent them both to the floor, and Sara ended up hugging him as he lay below her, clutching her tightly. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, and she squeezed him while sobbing onto his shoulder.

When they pulled back, she saw his eyebrows were furrowed and his forehead was creased as he placed his hand behind her neck. But his grin said it all—he was so relieved, so glad to see her.

Sara placed a hand on his cheek, they both leaned in, and they connected their lips together after so long. Immediately, Sara's eyes fluttered shut as she kissed him with all the love and longing that she'd ever felt for him. She was able to breathe in his familiar, soothing scent, despite all the sweat. And she caressed him repeatedly as he kissed her back with the same energy.

When they pulled back, Sara stared at him with awe and wonder, darting her eyes all around his features, finding it so hard to believe he was there. The tears of relief kept falling from her eyes as she marveled at the sight of him.

"You're alive," she said softly as she smiled at him, still struck by shock. She didn't even know what to do with herself and kept stroking her fingers through his hair, and touching his face, making sure he was real and not just a product of her imagination, "...and you're okay."

They embraced each other yet again.

"Love," he managed to say before the emotions got to him, and Sara could feel him sob softly against her.

"You slinthead!" shouted Minho and the three of them rushed over to hug Newt. Sara smiled as she looked at Minho's face. It was the happiest she'd ever seen he was. It was pure joy. Thomas was elated, ruffling Newt's hair. And Rachel gave him a hug, and then she smiled at Sara, expressing how glad she was that they could be reunited.

"But how? And what about Chuck?" Sara swarmed him with questions as they all pulled apart.

Newt took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. "I wasn't responding. Rebecca took me to the church, thinking I was dead. But she still hoped that it could work, and Chuck stayed with me the whole time. Love, she figured it out. You and I were both saved. And I'm cured," he said, smiling, and Sara felt so grateful, wishing she would've thanked Rebecca for fighting until the end. "I just came back from taking Chuck to the flat trans. Becca said Ava had given her instructions, and that's where we were headed after one of Vince's men brought us back."

It was Newt who'd shot the last WICKED guards with the launcher then. It was almost like revenge for the one time he was struck by one.

"You guys did it," said Sara before she started crying again, "but Becca..."

Newt gave her a pained expression. "I'm sorry," he said, his face full of regret. "If I'd just ran faster, I—"

"Shh." Sara tried to calm him, placing a hand on his cheek. "You did more than enough. It was Janson. He's responsible for everything," she said, unable to stop crying. "Including Rebecca."

"I'm sorry you've lost another person, love," he said, trying to soothe her. "She was so proud of you, and so am I. We'll never forget her and everything she did for us."

Sara nodded, hugging Newt one last time before they faced Margaret and Janson, who were both staring each other down while the couple reunited. Reunions were simply happening all day long.

"She's my cousin Margaret. Another surprise I got today," she told Newt.

"Yah, the three of us ran into her before we split up," he said, and Sara realized that was the reason Rebecca told Janson he had a weakness. His weakness was his daughter.

They finally stood up and watched father and daughter look at each other as the attention was drawn toward them.

Margaret nodded once, and The Right Arm's men that were with her immediately shot down the guards that had brought Rebecca, and the ones whom Newt had shot with the launcher. And then again, at her signal, they shot Lisa.

Margaret had just ordered the killing of everyone else who wasn't on Sara's side. And the only one of them still standing was Janson. Sara and the rest of them all stood still, completely shocked.

"Daddy," said Margaret, giving him a smile.

He hesitantly smiled back at her. "I never thought I'd see you again," he said, and Sara wanted to laugh at his weak attempt at being sincere. And if not, he was just frightened at that point, and with due reason. "Can you convince your cousin to stay? Look at your old man, Maggie, I'm ill," he added, revealing to her his sick-looking veins on his arms.

Sara couldn't believe he still hadn't resigned on keeping her there. And he was completely ignoring the fact that he'd shot his own twelve-year-old, yet she was still standing right in front of him, three years later.

Furious, one of Margaret's men pointed a gun at him. Rat Man raised his arms in defense, but Margaret stopped the guy.

"No one touches him," Margaret snapped, before walking toward her father. "You've gotten yourself into real big trouble, haven't you?"

"Let's be calm about this," said Rat Man. "I'm just glad you're here with me. We can make up for lost time."

Margaret chuckled. "Nah, let's get down to what really matters."

"Which is...?"

"Mom," said Margaret, and Janson pursed his lips, knowing things weren't looking too bright for him. "You cheated on her, got home late almost every night, and your job was always your excuse. You never listened to her when she begged you to come home, and to stop working with WICKED. And what did you do? You took your gun and shot her right in front of me one day," she said, lowering her voice as her smile faded completely, but Janson was poker-faced. "How dare you?"

"I—I... I was out of my mind, dear. I don't know what was happening to me—I can hardly even remember," he said, having the audacity to defend himself.

Sara held onto the fact that Margaret herself kept her from killing Janson. Margaret just needed to adjust some matters with him and then she would come with them to the flat trans.

Margaret laughed softly at his words. "Should I tell you the rest of the story, dad?"

Everyone, including Janson, looked confused as Margaret grabbed the vest she was wearing and took it off, dropping it to the floor. But then the confusion turned to horror as Margaret clutched her black shirt and angrily took it off in one swift movement.

Sara was appalled. Margaret stood there, naked from the waist up except for her bra.

"What are you doing, child?" Janson asked, looking at his daughter with terror.

"Showing you how you ruined my life," she replied, her face void of emotion.

"Put your shirt back on!" Janson shouted at her, looking at her with confusion.

"No, I'm not putting that shirt back on, know why?" she argued back, then she pointed to a huge scar on the side of her stomach, just below the ribs. "To show you this!"

Janson was furious at that point, and he completely disregarded the indignation in Margaret's voice, and the look in her eyes. "You'll respect me, young lady. I'm your father."

Margaret sputtered with anger. "I'm sorry—respect? What... what kind of father shoots his own child?! And you killed the only person I could ever count on. Don't come asking for respect when I watched her cry every single night. I knew it was your fault," she said, pointing at him accusingly. "You were the reason for mom's unhappiness."

"Okay, what do you want me to do now?" he demanded, raising his voice. "I can't bring Anne back, so stop crying to me about it."

"I'm not finished!" she shouted, making Sara flinch. Janson also jumped a little at her sudden outburst. "It's not just that you shot me, or mom. It's not even worth mentioning. I'll tell you what I'll never forgive you for," she said in a lower voice, taking slow steps toward him. "I'll never forgive you for my survival." Her nostrils flared and Sara could hear her breathing profusely from where she stood.

"You're not making any sense," said Janson, and Margaret laughed without a single drop of humor coming out of her voice.

"Let me be clear," she began, mocking a patient attitude. "I would've loved to have died that day." Sara cringed at her cousin's words. Seeing the anger radiate from her so intensely was terrifying. "But you missed! I don't know what kind of sick intention you had." She then chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. "Ah, curse that stupid bullet. It only grazed me."

"You should be happy you survived," he started saying, almost mocking her for her words. "But no daughter of mine would've waited this long to look for me. I could've taken care of you. You could've grown up with Sara." Margaret gave him a look that told him what a fool he was in a hundred different ways.

"You don't understand, do you?" She shook her head, picking up her black shirt from the floor and finally pulling it back on. "Because you missed..." she began, pointing a finger at him, "I was alive through the pain, and mom's loss. And then I came to my senses and saw her body next to me, and I couldn't even move. I couldn't even ask for help 'cause I knew you were still in the house, and no one else would be able to hear me," she said, and her voice finally cracked. Sara was impressed to see how long it'd taken her to express any emotion, but it was nonetheless heartbreaking. "Do you have any idea what that crap did to me?" Her eyes went wide, and she gave him a fierce look.

"Maggie, honey—"

"No, Janson," she whispered, and she was crying without making any sound. "I..." she paused, looking at Sara for a moment. Sara was crying herself, and she gasped softly as Margaret locked eyes with her. Newt held her close, rubbing her back as they witnessed the painful confrontation. "I heard screams, and then another gunshot a few hours later. You killed aunt Amira; Sara told me." Margaret kept crying; a pained look engraved on her face.

"Maybe you should've waited for your father to explain instead of waiting to hear it from someone like your cousin," Janson reprimanded her, snapping his eyes over to Sara.

But Sara only glared at him, getting even more disgusted with him, which she didn't think was possible at that point.

"Explain what?!" Margaret suddenly shouted, tears continuously streaming down her face. "'Hey, Maggie, I had to kill your mom, I hope you don't mind. Oh, and I also had to kill her sister and her husband. I hope you can understand,'" she mocked him. "You shameless pig!"

"Watch your mouth with me—"

"If you had killed me, you would've done me a favor," Margaret continued, and Sara was getting tired of hearing her say that. "I'm not immune. But had I been—I don't know—I probably would've gotten thrown into a Maze. And if I had Sara's DNA, I would've been the lamb you'd take to the slaughterhouse so you could live. But Sara was the unfortunate individual in the family. She paid a huge toll in the last three years just like I did. You ruined our lives."

"She can't complain. I had her living like a queen in here. She was the one that left, ruining all the work I put into WICKED," said Janson. "Her payback should be to cure me."

Sara tensed up at his words and took a step forward before Newt tried holding her back. "I don't owe you anything! I owed Becca, and you thought you had the right to take her too, you shuck-faced bastard!"

Margaret raised her palm. "Let me handle this, Sara." She turned back to her father. "You know, I applaud my cousin for who she became. Despite the hell you made her live, she thrived in her life. She's a good person. And at least her dad actually loved her. She'll never know what it's like to have her old man try to kill her."

Sara didn't like the tone of voice Margaret was using, and the things she was saying gave her goosebumps.

"She got lucky, Margaret," Janson said, trying to sound casual, as if he were trying to win his daughter over now that Sara had turned her back on him. "Who would know so many fools would be on her side? She's nothing without them."

"Neither of us would be bloody anything without her," Newt snapped, and Sara pulled on his arm, not wanting him to defend her against someone who wasn't even worth it.

"Yeah, she had loving people to help her. And none of it was thanks to you," said Margaret, glaring at Janson. "I wish I was Sara's sister. Uncle Matteo would never hurt me."

"Sara was his daughter, but she still complains," he commented.

"And she's your niece, but I'm your daughter," she rebuked, arching an eyebrow. "I could've died when you shot me—should've died, but The Right Arm found me, treated my wound, and I had no other choice than to join them."

"You preferred a filthy little group that idolizes insurrection over your own father," he snapped.

Sara didn't even understand how any of what he said made sense. If Margaret had looked for him, he would've made sure he actually killed her. What he did could've damaged his own reputation with WICKED if word spilled out.

"So what? Vince was more of a father than you could ever be," Margaret chuckled. "Vince protected me for a price though. And I had to give him what he wanted. I killed for my survival. And I only blame you for doing this to me. For turning me into what I am today. This..." She patted her own chest, "...This is what being alive did to me!"

"What do you want from me?" Janson demanded, raising his voice again. "I can give you money. Are you upset you're not immune? I can give you enough for the Bliss. But Sara's mine."

"Nah, nah, nah," Margaret waved him off. "I'll tell you what I want," she said before sticking her hand on the inside of her vest she picked from the floor.

Sara realized that was why she was nosing around in the weapons room earlier. However, her cousin pulled out a regular gun instead of something larger and more intimidating.

"Maggie, what are you doing? Let's talk about this," said Janson, eyeing the gun carefully as he slowly backed away from her.

"This is the first and last time I'll ever use one of WICKED's toys," said Margaret, examining the gun. "We usually work with our own stuff, but this occasion... called for a special exception. I'm sure you recognize this gun from somewhere, don't you, dad?"

"You wouldn't kill your old man, child," Janson muttered, gritting his teeth. "You don't have it in you."

"But you were comfortable killing your own family." Margaret was mocking him again, and Sara was shaking in place. "And you don't know a thing about me."

"Stop it!" shouted Janson. "I know you, Margaret. You might've killed high and low beyond these walls, but you don't have the nerve to kill me. I can help you."

Margaret had stopped crying a while ago, and in place, there was an idle expression on her face. She was made out of steel—that was the kind of strength life had given her, for being an unfortunate survivor.

It was as if her previous crying were a way for her to let go of any emotion she ever had in her life. And now an emotionless, broken human being stood there, facing her biggest nightmare.

"I should let you rot alive, let the Flare take care of you like you deserve it," she said, her eyes shining with the bright spark of revenge. "I wouldn't give you the opportunity to end things quickly. I would watch until you bit your own fingers off, living like a rabid animal for the rest of your life."

Sara couldn't take it anymore. "Maggie, stop," she begged.

But her cousin motioned for her to wait. She didn't even glance at her. "But I wouldn't do that to you, dad," she said, and Janson somewhat let out a breath he was holding. "You have people somewhere around to chase after Sara, and I can't let that happen. My cousin is on her way to freedom. I have to make sure she gets to it."

Janson started breathing rapidly, almost to the point of hyperventilating. "What do you want from me, I swear! Enough with this, child!"

"I'll return you the favor, isn't that nice?" Margaret taunted him, slowly walking toward him as he backed away into a wall.

Sara broke free from Newt's grasp and ran to her cousin, pulling her by the arm. "Maggie, he's your dad." Janson looked surprised, but he smiled at Sara, yet she only shook her head. "I'm not doing this for him, I'm doing this for you, Margaret. You were the one to convince me not to kill him."

Margaret roughly yanked her arm from Sara's grasp. "I did it 'cause I know you wouldn't have done it. You're no killer, Sara." Margaret gave her a sharp look, and then a proud smirk formed on her face. "But I am."

Sara didn't recognize the look in Margaret's eyes. She wasn't the same sweet girl she grew up with during the first few years of her life.

Newt, and the rest of her friends present, walked up to stand beside Sara. There was nothing they could do at that point. Every single WICKED guard in the room had already paid with their life. And Janson stood alone in this, the product of his crimes coming back to hold him accountable.

Janson carried a crazed look in his eyes by then, and a sinister giggle he let out turned into a fit of cackling. "Now that so many confessions are being brought into the light, I guess it's my turn now," he said in an unusually calm voice, making everyone wait attentively. "I made my way to where I am now on my own. I started out as a miserable taxi chauffeur who climbed his way up to glory. Anne always humiliated me, all high and mighty because she was a star and one of the most beautiful women alive. Didn't she tell you?"

He began pacing around, slowly rubbing his chin.

"She was unhappy with that life until she met me. She was being ungrateful after everything I did for her. I deserved what I got because I never gave up. I became even more prestigious than Ava herself," he continued, pointing his thumb at his own chest with a chuckle.

Margaret, Sara, and the only few others who remained kept their eyes firmly on the man. An unfamiliar sensation stirred inside Sara's chest as she listened, completely disturbed by his outright flow of words. The only time he displayed absolute transparency. His true colors. He only pretended to be a despicable man for which she felt complete repulsion, but his true self was much worse. She didn't even know how else to feel.

He then outstretched his arms widely as he continued pacing around. "I had the right to sleep with all the women I wanted, I had the right to become even wealthier than any other entity could only ever dream of. I am important to the world. Because people are stupid. You give them anything and they praise you like a god. They're only dogs you can satisfy with mere crumbs," he said, lazily gesturing to the floor before sighing with content. "And that feeling is exhilarating."

Sara didn't even know what was more unsettling, the rebirth of Janson's closeted persona or the completely idle and emotionless expression on his daughter.

Janson then covered his face with one hand and began laughing softly, his shoulders shaking. "And if I wanted to take Sara and watch her die as she restored my health..." he added as soon as the laughing stopped, "...then I had all the right to do so. Our family didn't believe in me, and I proved them wrong. They all deserved to be massacred. I'm sick of pretending you mean anything to me for being my daughter. You all were a constant rock in my shoe. This is where I belong," he raised his voice, spinning around as he contemplated the damaged interior of WICKED HQ.

"Alone," he continued. "Enjoying the riches and successes of my life. You and Sara are pathetic, getting all sentimental about something for which I haven't even given more than two seconds of thought." His hand gestures alone were reflective of his nonchalance.

Sara had enough of his words. The mere look in his eyes, his gestures, his confessions. She didn't need to hear any more of it. No matter how much he still wanted to manipulate them into thinking he had won, he hadn't. He was infected and was the only member of WICKED still alive, surrounded by the future ruins of his beloved building.

She let go of Newt and slowly made her way to Janson, stopping a few meters away from him. "That young chauffeur should've stayed a chauffeur," she said, then smiled softly. "I know you don't care as you now made that clear, but I'll still say it. You adored Anne Callan in a twisted kind of way, and she was the one who got you all of this," she said, gesturing to her surroundings. "You're bragging over stolen property, and yet you have nothing left." She chuckled softly and his eyes instantly became bloodshot as a black color spread through his veins like ink.

Margaret walked past Sara and took a few steps closer to Janson. Sara ran back to latch onto Newt's arm.

"Beautiful speech," said Margaret, clapping slowly. "Now let this be clear to you. You messed with my family; you don't walk out alive. You commit all the crimes you committed, and I send you straight to hell," she said, cocking the gun without ever taking her eyes off from him. "You sealed your own downfall, Janson. Three years ago. Because I—as opposed to you—will not miss," she finished, smiling as she pointed the gun right to his chest.

Sara held her breath and closed her eyes. And the ear-splitting gunshot ripped through the air, making her flinch as she held onto Newt as tightly as she could.