" her nose is growing, and i'm
pretty sure i'm see warts . "

vi. Little bird
4997 Words

JADE BECKETT WAS ON A DATE. Yes, a date. A date she didn't actually think was a date. Why the hell was she on a date? She didn't do dates—or relationships, for that matter. Which is precisely why, as she sat at the small, dimly lit table across from Erik, the whole thing was crashing and burning. Hard. Her eyes flicked to him as he leaned forward, folding his hands on the table like he was about to drop some profound insight. "Jade, you're avoidant," he said bluntly, his tone dripping with misplaced authority.

   Jade blinked, unimpressed. "Wow. Thanks for the free diagnosis, Dr. Freud." Her voice was flat, sarcastic. She rested her chin on her hand, lazily swirling the straw in her drink. "Look, Erik, I don't know why you're acting so freaked. I told you from day one—I don't do dates. And yet here we are, at a restaurant, doing exactly what I said I wouldn't do." She whispered the last part as if pointing out something painfully obvious.

   "You've been with me for over a week," Erik said, his voice defensive. "Of course I wanted to take you on a date."

   Jade's brow furrowed. "With you?" she echoed, confusion lacing her tone.

   "Yes, with me." He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Have we not been together?"

   "Sexually? Sure," Jade said with a shrug. "Emotionally? Hell no."

   Erik scoffed, shaking his head like she was missing something fundamental.

   Jade's eyes narrowed. "You knew that. So why, all of a sudden, are you expecting me to play house with you?"

   "I thought maybe you'd be mature enough to try it out," Erik shot back, his tone laced with condescension. "Clearly not. I should've known when you said you've never had a serious relationship."

   Jade leaned forward, her eyes cold and unflinching. "First of all, I've never been in a relationship because it's my choice, not because I'm immature. If I wanted a boyfriend, I'd have one. And, spoiler alert—you wouldn't be him."

   The scoff that followed was predictable, almost rehearsed.

   "You tricked me into a date," Jade continued, her voice calm, detached, like she was observing the situation from a distance. "And now you're upset?"

   "Because you're insane," Erik snapped, his face flushed with frustration. "Like, actually. No woman acts the way you do."

   Jade's lips curled into a tight, humorless smile. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you expect me to follow some cookie-cutter script?" Her voice dripped with mock sweetness. Then she stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as she grabbed her bag. "I'm leaving. I have work to do. And frankly, you're an asshole."

   "Jade—" Erik started, his voice a mix of frustration and desperation.

   But he didn't get a chance to finish. Her heels clicked sharply against the tile as she walked out of the restaurant without looking back.

   Outside, the cool air hit her like a reset button. She exhaled slowly, pulling her car keys from her bag, and in one fluid motion, unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat.

   No second thoughts. No regrets.

   The engine purred to life, and she drove.

   Directly to work.

   Jade wasn't exactly sure how she ended up here—on what was technically a date. Maybe she'd been fuzzy-minded, a little too lost in her own head, and somehow let it happen. But now, it didn't matter.

   She sat in the drivers seat of her car and thankfully, in the passenger seat of her car sat a bag of clothes for work. The clock on the dashboard told her she'd be cutting it close, but close was still on time. Right?

   As she merged onto the highway, her phone buzzed against the center console. She hit the speaker button without taking her eyes off the road.

   "Hello?"

   "Girl, where are you?" Derek's voice came through immediately, a mix of amusement and mild exasperation.

   Jade's brows furrowed slightly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. There was something about his tone—smooth, playful, but with just enough bite to let her know he was watching the clock.

   "On my way," she replied coolly. "I won't be late... maybe."

   "Close to it," Derek shot back, his voice laced with that signature Morgan sass. "You know Hotch doesn't play when it comes to timing."

   Jade rolled her eyes, already picturing Derek shaking his head on the other end of the line. "Yeah, yeah. Goodbye, Derek." Her tone was light but firm, a playful dismissal.

   Derek chuckled softly. "Don't make me come find you."

   "Please. You wish."

   The call ended with a soft beep, and Jade rolled her eyes again, this time with a grin. Derek Morgan had a way of making you feel like you were always on the edge of a joke, but never the punchline.

   She sighed.

   Another day. Another Case.

⭔

Jade's car was parked neatly in the lot as she stepped out, the morning air cool against her skin. She adjusted the strap of her bag, heels clicking sharply against the pavement as she made her way inside the building. Her pace was calm, collected—though the slight tension in her shoulders suggested she'd had a long night.

The bullpen was unusually quiet when she arrived, a stark contrast to the usual hum of activity. She expected to find the full team, but instead, there were only three people waiting for her—Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, and JJ.

As Jade entered the room, all three looked up in unison.

And promptly froze.

Spencer's gaze flickered over her dress for a split second before darting away, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. Derek gave her a once-over—up and down, classic Morgan—with a raised brow, while JJ just stared in confusion.

"Uh... nice outfit?" JJ said, her voice lilting with uncertainty.

Jade followed JJ's gaze, looking down at her dress—something sleek and elegant, far too formal for a day at the BAU. "For work...?" JJ ventured, still not quite sure what she was looking at.

Jade shook her head and dropped her bag onto a nearby chair. "Not for work," she clarified as she slipped off one heel, balancing herself by resting a hand on Derek's shoulder. "Sorry I took a while. I was on a date."

JJ blinked. "A date? This morning?"

"Yes. I didn't know it was a date, though." Jade sighed, pulling off her other heel and setting it aside. "And now it's ruined my day."

"How do you go on a date without knowing it's a date?" Spencer asked, his tone curious but calm, like he was genuinely trying to solve a puzzle.

Derek leaned back in his chair, smirking. "You'll never find out, boy genius."

Jade raised an eyebrow. "He tricked me into it. Said it was just us going out. Turns out it wasn't 'just us going out.'" She pulled a hoodie from her bag and slipped it over her dress, the sleek fabric vanishing under the soft cotton. "I don't do dates. I don't even date."

Derek crossed his arms, watching her with an amused glint in his eye. "So, let me get this straight. Dude had to come up with an entire scheme just to get you to sit across a table from him?"

"Exactly," Jade said, pulling on a pair of jeans over her dress and swapping out her heels for sneakers. "And now I'm here. Date-free and happier for it."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "You're worse than me, Beckett."

"Maybe he was just trying to be nice," Spencer offered softly, his hands resting on the table, fingers tapping lightly.

"Definitely not nice," Jade shot back. "He called me emotionally avoidant and immature." She zipped up her hoodie with a sharp tug. "As if he didn't have to orchestrate a covert operation just to get me into a restaurant."

Spencer tilted his head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Why didn't you just—"

"Don't." Derek cut him off with a smirk. "Don't take dating advice from Reid. Kid's got no experience in that department."

"I don't have to," Spencer replied calmly. "There's a logical framework to social interactions."

Derek leaned forward, grinning. "Case in point."

Jade turned to Spencer, intrigued. "Wait—seriously? Never?"

Spencer blinked. "Never what?"

You've never been on a date?" Jade pressed, leaning forward slightly, arms crossed. "Never asked someone out? Or been asked out?" Her tone was light, teasing—but her eyes watched him carefully, curious.

Spencer swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly as he adjusted his posture. He didn't answer, his silence speaking volumes.

"Thought so," Jade nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Mmm... makes sense." She tilted her head thoughtfully, her voice dropping into a playful lilt. "It's okay, boy genius. I'll ask you out soon." She winked at him. "But trust me—there's no logic behind what that guy pulled last night."

Spencer's brow furrowed slightly, the gears in his mind visibly turning. "Actually," he began, slipping into his usual analytical tone, "from a psychological standpoint, he might feel like you're avoiding responsibility. Refusing a place in his life. That kind of behavior can trigger a sense of rejection, which some people interpret as a threat to their self-worth."

Jade stared at him for a beat, half-expecting him to launch into a full dissertation. "Okay, Doctor Freud," she quipped with a smirk. "But maybe—just maybe—he's also a jerk."

Spencer opened his mouth, clearly prepared to counter, but stopped himself. His head tilted slightly as if reconsidering her point. "That... is also possible."

Derek, who had been watching the exchange with growing amusement, let out a low chuckle and clapped Spencer on the shoulder. "There you go, Reid. Sometimes it really is that simple."

Jade shot Derek a grin before grabbing her badge and phone from her bag. "Alright, enough about my non-date. Where's Hotch and Prentiss?" she asked, glancing around the bullpen.

JJ, who had been checking her watch, let out a sigh. "Clearly nowhere to be seen," she said, her tone carrying a note of mild frustration. Jade plopped down in a chair beside Spencer, stretching her legs out.

Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall. "Should we wait fifteen minutes?"

"We'll brief them on the plane," JJ cut in smoothly. "Right now, the Milwaukee Police Department's task force needs our help. They've had four murders in the past three weeks. And as of two days ago, another woman has gone missing."

Jade straightened in her chair, her playful demeanor fading. "What's the profile on the victims?"

JJ tapped a few keys on the tablet in front of her. "All the victims are women in their 30s. Married. Mothers. No apparent connection between them beyond that."

"Any similarities in how they were abducted?" Derek asked, leaning forward slightly.

JJ nodded. "Just that they've all been abducted from the area of wauwatosa, all from very public places, but there's no witnesses."

Spencer's brow furrowed in thought. "How are we even certain it's the same killer?"

"Well, for starters..." JJ walked over to the projector, turning it on. The screen lit up with images of the crime scenes, each one displaying a woman's body, carefully laid out. "All the bodies have been dumped in Milwaukee's Third Ward. And there's this..."

Jade glanced at the screen, her eyes narrowing as she examined the photos. But when JJ clicked to the next slide, her expression shifted into one of disgusted shock. "What the hell..."

"Is that what I think it is?" Derek asked, his voice dropping into a serious tone.

JJ's expression hardened as she nodded. "All the hearts have been cut from their bodies."

⭔

Once they were on the jet, the air felt off—tense, chaotic. Jade could feel it. She had only been with the BAU for two weeks, and already, things were unraveling. Emily was gone, Hotch was on the verge of leaving, and from the far side of the cabin sat a witch with blond hair.

   Strauss.

   "You know," JJ said from her seat, her voice low but laced with dry humor, "from this angle, she almost looks human."

   Jade, sitting beside Spencer, tilted her head, considering the comment as if Strauss were an artifact under a microscope. "Oh please," she muttered, dryly. "Her nose is growing, and I'm pretty sure I'm see warts."

   JJ grinned, biting back a laugh, while Spencer glanced between them, ever the observer, his brow furrowing slightly.

   "Has anyone talked to Emily yet?" Spencer asked, his voice soft but steady, cutting through the tension.

   Jade shook her head. "Nope. She was gone before I even heard the news."

   "Same," JJ added with a sigh. "She didn't exactly leave a forwarding address."

   Derek leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. "Now we're down two agents, and Gideon's still M.I.A." His tone was sharp, but there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes.

   Jade exhaled slowly, the weight of it all settling on her. Their team felt like a plane with two broken wings, barely staying in the air.

Spencer adjusted his watch, glancing at the time. "Doesn't Strauss ever—"

He stopped abruptly as the devil herself approached, heels clicking against the cabin floor with calculated precision.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Strauss began, her tone cold and clipped, "but isn't it protocol to brief everyone before arriving at the crime scene?"

Jade slowly turned her head toward Strauss, her expression unreadable, eyes calm but assessing.

"Yes, ma'am," JJ responded, her polite smile carrying just the faintest edge of sarcasm. "This unsub is abducting women from highly public places, leaving no witnesses. He holds them for forty-eight hours, no signs of sexual assault, and then dumps their bodies... with their hearts carved out." Her voice remained steady as she laid the grim details bare.

Derek, with his usual lack of subtlety, slid a photo across the table toward Strauss. It was graphic—brutal—but he placed it down with a certain carelessness, as if daring her to flinch.

Strauss glanced at the image but kept her composure.

Spencer leaned forward slightly, eyes focused on the case rather than the tension brewing in the room. "He most likely has no issue with being seen," he mused aloud. "That suggests someone who blends in well. Maybe he even thrives in environments where he can go unnoticed."

Jade, still watching Strauss with a detached interest, added, "Yeah... He's not afraid of being seen because he knows nobody's looking at him twice."

"There's an obvious dichotomy in the skill the unsub exibits in abducting these women," Spencer continued, slipping easily into analytical mode. "And the fact that he cuts their hearts out so crudely."

"We're probably looking at someone in a psychotic break," Derek said, his voice low and flat, like this was just another day at the office. "Could be a butcher. Maybe a hunter. Someone comfortable around blood. But..." He tapped the photo, his eyes narrowing. "He's no surgeon."

Strauss folded her arms, her expression cool. "Do we have a working theory?" Her tone was clinical, almost detached.

Derek let out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Sure. Somebody really doesn't like women." His gaze met hers directly, unwavering, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. He didn't blink. He didn't look away. Instead, he stood up, walking away.

The jet went silent for a moment, the hum of the engines the only sound. Jade glanced at Spencer, who was already lost in thought, his mind piecing together the puzzle. She knew it wouldn't take him long to find the threads others couldn't see.

Strauss's eyes lingered on Jade for a moment too long, a silent scrutiny that carried the weight of judgment. Jade, sensing the stare, turned her head slowly, meeting Strauss's gaze with an unwavering calm. She raised her brows ever so slightly—just enough to acknowledge the attention—but there was no warmth in the gesture.

It wasn't a greeting.

It was a silent challenge.

And then, with deliberate ease, Jade looked away, her expression cool and indifferent, as though dismissing Strauss entirely. The message was clear: You don't intimidate me. A subtle but unmistakable goodbye in the language of defiance.

Strauss blinked once, her jaw tightening, but she said nothing. Instead, she straightened her posture and walked back to her seat, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

Jade leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other, her gaze drifting to Spencer, who watched the interaction with quiet curiosity.

⭔

The air was heavy as the team stepped onto the scene, the faint metallic smell of blood mingling with the industrial staleness of the area. Detective Vic Wolynski approached, his sharp gaze assessing the group as they arrived.

"You the FBI?" Vic asked, his voice clipped but respectful.

"Derek Morgan," Derek introduced himself, his tone steady and professional. He gestured to the rest of the team. "Spencer Reid, Jade Beckett, Jennifer Jareau, and Section Chief Strauss."

Vic nodded. "Vic Wolynski, Milwaukee PD." His handshake was firm, his expression weathered by years in the field.

Spencer, standing slightly behind Derek, tilted his head. "You worked the Jeffrey Dahmer case," he noted, his voice carrying that mix of reverence and curiosity that made him stand out.

Vic blinked, caught off guard. "That was 16 years ago."

"I've, uh—studied it," Spencer said quickly, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

"And you remember my name?" Vic asked, his disbelief tinged with amusement.

JJ smiled as she stepped forward. "He remembers everything," she said, nudging Spencer lightly.

   "It's his thing," Derek added.

Strauss, her arms crossed and her posture rigid, cut in sharply. "What can you tell us?"

Vic shifted slightly, glancing back at the tarp-covered body. "Uh, local merchant noticed her a few hours ago," he began. "But considering he didn't see her when he first came to work, we figure she was dumped here between 7:50 and 8:05 this morning. Same window as the others."

"All the bodies were found in this area, right?" Derek asked, stepping closer to the scene.

"Yeah. Wauwatosa's an upper-middle-class suburb about 15 minutes out," Vic explained. "All the women were abducted from there in the afternoon and turned up here two mornings later."

JJ frowned, glancing around the area. "All this foot traffic, and no one's seen a thing?" she asked, skepticism lacing her voice.

Vic sighed. "He, uh, wraps the bodies loosely so they're not immediately recognizable. Eventually, the wrapping comes undone. My guess is he has a van or truck—something he can back up to shield himself during the drop."

"He's careful," Jade commented, her eyes narrowing slightly as she scanned the surrounding area. "Really careful."

"No prints on the wrapping?" Derek asked as the group moved closer to the body.

"Traces of paint and wood stain," Vic said, scratching his chin. "But it's all stuff you'd find at any hardware store."

Spencer folded his arms, his gaze fixed on the lifeless figure. "He's trying to demean them, putting them out like trash."

Derek nodded. "This guy might work or live close by. Gets off on the reaction to his uh— handiwork."

Jade knelt beside the tarp, her analytical mind at work. "If he's wrapping them to delay recognition, then maybe he's controlling the timeline. He dumps them when it suits him, knowing they'll be discovered on his terms."

JJ leaned in slightly. "What can you tell us about this victim?"

"She was taken from a supermarket," Vic explained. "Her husband said she'd usually be picking up their son from school, but he was spending the afternoon at a friend's."

"This is your fifth victim, right?" Strauss interjected, her voice cold and critical.

"Yes, ma'am," Vic replied, his tone clipped.

"You should have called us sooner," Strauss said, her words sharp enough to draw attention.

Jade's brow furrowed slightly, her expression a subtle blend of disbelief and irritation as she shot a glance at Strauss.

Vic's jaw tightened. "I thought we had a handle on it."

"Apparently not," Strauss fired back.

Before the tension could escalate, JJ stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Ma'am," she said quietly, gesturing for Strauss to step aside. Turning to Vic, she added with a soft smile, "Excuse us, sir."

The two women moved a few feet away, leaving the team to process the scene in silence. Derek shook his head slightly, muttering under his breath, "She's gonna scare off the locals before we even get started."

Jade exhaled slowly, her gaze returning to the body. "Has she already not?" she asked dryly, her tone light enough to break the tension.

The team moved with purpose around the crime scene, each agent focused on their role. Derek had stepped away, his voice low as he spoke into his phone. Jade stood near Spencer, her eyes darting between the body on the ground and the profiler standing a few feet away. Her gaze lingered on him for just a moment too long before she quickly looked away, trying to focus on the victim.

Spencer, of course, noticed. He always noticed.

"You're analyzing the wrong person's behavior," he said abruptly, his tone neutral but carrying the precise cadence of someone who'd already formed a hypothesis. He didn't look at her right away, his attention still on the body before he turned toward her with a faint tilt of his head.

Jade blinked, caught off guard. "What?" she asked, her voice sharper than intended. She turned back to the body as though she hadn't been staring at him just seconds before.

Spencer shifted slightly, his hands brushing the strap of his satchel. "You keep looking at me," he said plainly, his voice soft but unyielding, the way he delivered facts. "Which suggests either curiosity or hesitation. Is there something you want to ask me?"

Jade paused, her posture stiffening. She shook her head, forcing a calm, dismissive tone. "Nope," she said quickly. "You're imagining things, boy genius."

Spencer blinked, his brows knitting together slightly as though he were mentally recalibrating her response. "Actually, I'm not," he replied with quiet confidence, his tone even but tinged with the faintest trace of curiosity. "Human behavior—especially something like involuntary glancing—is typically subconscious and therefore highly reliable as an indicator of interest or distraction. Statistically, I'm more likely to be correct than not."

Jade stared at him, her lips parting slightly in disbelief. "Statistically?" she repeated, her tone incredulous. She shook her head, a small smile showing. "You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

Spencer shrugged calmly and glanced away from her.

⭔

"Hey. What do we know?" Vic asked one of the officers, his voice steady as he stepped into the bustling precinct, the faint hum of ringing phones and clacking keyboards filling the space.

   "A woman, Claire Thompson," the officer began, holding a clipboard and glancing at his notes. "Her husband tried calling her cell, but when she didn't pick up, he drove to the department store. Her car's still in the parking lot, but she's nowhere to be found."

   JJ's sharp gaze followed the officer's gesture to a man sitting off to the side, shoulders slumped and hands twisting nervously in his lap. "Is that the husband?" she asked, her voice soft but direct.

  "Yeah," the officer confirmed with a nod.

   "JJ, take Strauss with you," Morgan cut in, nodding toward the man. JJ hesitated but nodded, sharing a brief, understanding look with the rest of the team before heading off, Strauss trailing behind her.

   The officer cleared his throat, drawing the team's attention back. "I had the department store uplink the security footage to your analyst in Quantico."

   "Perfect," Morgan replie.

  "My desk is over here," Vic added, motioning for them to follow.

   Morgan pulled out his phone as they walked. "Garcia, baby girl, tell me something I want to hear," he said smoothly, the faintest grin pulling at his lips.

   Jade, walking slightly behind the group, shot him a glance: She almost immediately tuned out his voice at the sound of him saying 'baby girl'

   "How about something I don't already know?" Morgan teased into the phone. "Did you find our missing girl on the security footage?"

   "I got it," Morgan said, switching his phone to speaker as they reached Vic's desk.

   The grainy black-and-white footage filled the
screen. Claire Thompson moved through the aisles, seemingly calm and unbothered. Jade leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.

   "She looks fine to me," Jade said, her tone skeptical as she crossed her arms.

   "She doesn't appear to be on anyone's radar," Spencer added, his brow furrowing in thought.

   "Wait—look," Morgan said suddenly, pointing at the screen. A boy, no older than seven or eight, wandered into the frame, heading straight toward Claire.

   "Does Claire Thompson have a son?" Vic asked, leaning over the desk.

   JJ shook her head, her blond hair falling over her shoulder. "No. A two year old daughter."

   "The kid looks lost," Spencer observed, tilting his head, his voice softer, contemplative.

   Morgan tapped the desk in frustration. "Garcia, this all you got?"

   "Afraid so," Penelope's voice came through the phone. "They turned down a hallway without any cameras, and that's where I lose them."

   Vic straightened. "I'll pull a list of missing kids in the area, see if any match the boy."

   Morgan stiffened, his expression shifting. "Oh, damn," he muttered, standing up straighter, his hand resting on his hip.

   Jade caught his tone and turned to him. "What is it?"

   Morgan looked at Spencer, his eyes narrowing as the pieces clicked together. "Something Hotch said earlier," he started, his voice lower, more urgent now. "All the abductions have been timed around school schedules. He thought the unsub might work in the system, but what if we're looking at this wrong?"

   Spencer's head tilted. "What do you mean?"

   "What if this guy's using his own kid to lure the victims?" Morgan asked, his voice firm, the realization sinking in.

   "That would explain how he stays under the radar," Jade added, her tone sharp, matching Morgan's intensity. She folded her arms, her gaze locked on the screen. "He's not hiding in plain sight—he's hiding behind the kid."

   The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the theory settling over them. Jade turned her head slightly.

⭔

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the cracked pavement as a young girl with messy brown hair and wide, curious eyes approached a man standing near a bench. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her movements deliberate but shy, like a bird stepping into unfamiliar territory. She tugged gently on the hem of his pants leg, looking up at him with an innocent smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

   "Excuse me, sir," she said, her voice small and sweet, like the trill of a songbird.

   The man blinked down at her, startled. "Oh, uh—hey there." His tone softened as he crouched to her level, concern flashing across his face. "What are you doing out here by yourself, kiddo? Are you okay?"

   "I'm lost," she said, her lower lip trembling in a carefully rehearsed pout. "I was waiting for my mom, but I think I went the wrong way. Could you help me?"

   The man glanced around the nearly empty street, his unease giving way to resolve. "Of course. Where do you need to go?"

   "There's a store," she said, tilting her head like she was trying to remember. "It's called Sunny's Market. It has a big yellow sign. I think it's just down the block."

   "Sunny's Market? Yeah, I know the place," he said, standing up and offering her his hand. "C'mon, let's get you there."

   The walk was short, just a few blocks, but the tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. The man kept glancing down at the girl, asking her questions she expertly dodged with vague answers.

   "You sure your mom's gonna be there?"

   "She said to meet her by the store. She always does."

   The dingy market came into view—a squat, forgotten relic of a building with peeling yellow paint and flickering neon lights. The man frowned as they approached, his steps slowing.

   "This the place?"

   Before she could answer, a figure emerged from the shadows behind them. The man barely had time to turn before he was slammed face-first into the brick wall with a sickening thud.

   "Hey—what the—" he started, but a rough hand yanked his wallet from his pocket.

   Jade stood still, watching with a blank expression as her father rifled through the man's belongings. The injured man groaned, clutching his head as he sank to the ground.

   "Move, Jade," her father snapped, his voice low and sharp like a whip crack.

   She obeyed without hesitation, running to the car parked a few feet away. Her father scooped her up under her knees, depositing her into the passenger seat before slamming the door shut. Seconds later, he slid into the driver's seat, peeling out of the lot without so much as a glance back.

   The car was silent except for the hum of the engine and the crinkle of a candy wrapper. Her father tossed a Hershey's bar onto her lap, his tone lighter now, almost playful.

   "Good job, little bird," he said, glancing at her briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

   Jade unwrapped the candy with steady hands, her expression calm and detached as she bit into the chocolate. She looked out the window, watching the streets blur into nothingness.

   Sunny's Market had no cameras, no witnesses, no one who cared enough to ask questions.

   For now, though, she didn't think about the man they'd left bleeding against the wall. She just ate her candy and stared at the horizon, trying to convince herself that this was normal.

✸

authors note: yall we r lowk about to start diving into her story early bc i cant help it