[✔️] 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝐹𝐴𝑆𝑇 | 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐆𝐎 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓
"𝑆𝑢𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓 𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑡 𝑟𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐼𝑓 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑑, 𝑖𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒."
—𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑖𝑟 𝑂𝑢-𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑑

𝐈
— 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑎 —

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 her old belongings, a small smile on her face as each item brought up a different memory, some of them having been forgotten until now.

All of the half-empty nail polish bottles that Allison would accidentally leave in her room after painting her and Klaus's nails; the thick book that Ben let her borrow when they were fifteen; the schedule that Diego had written for her when she had first arrived . . .

While the others had been adopted at birth, Mara had been adopted when they were eleven. What made her parents change their mind about her, she had no clue, but she was happier off at the Academy anyway.

The weird thing about her 'adoption,' however, was that it was hardly an adoption at all. Seeming to not want to explain themselves, or perhaps not wanting to go through all the legalities, her parents had left her at the front doorstep of the Academy as if she were baby Harry being dropped off by Dumbledore (without the letter).

And as much as they had tried, Reginald simply could not adopt Mara without the written or spoken consent from her parents. So, instead, she had just been instructed to treat the others like family.

But family—she never considered them that, and she knew it was the same for the others. Instead, it had been like having a best friend live with them, but she had still been content.

She let out a small chuckle as she gazed at the wrinkled paper. What a strange day her first day there had been for her. Suddenly gaining a new 'family,' learning that the mother was a robot, that there was a talking chimpanzee that helped take care of the children, and that she then had to go out and fight criminals? Wasn't too easy to process.

"God, was my handwriting that bad?"

Mara gave a small jump of surprise, the paper almost slipping out of her grasp. She held her hand over her heart as she gave a sigh of relief once she saw that it was only Diego, who had been peering at the schedule over her shoulder.

She couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach as he gave her a small smirk and straightened up. She mentally scolded herself; now was not the time to bring all that back. And she most certainly did not want it to come back.

While they had still been in the Academy, she and Diego had had a rather . . . flirty friendship. Whether that was only fun for Diego, or if he actually had feelings for her, Mara never knew. But she knew for a fact that she most definitely had had feelings for him.

But after he had left the Academy—and was the first to do so—when they were seventeen, she never spoke to him afterwards.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't told her that he was leaving, or maybe that he never made contact, but she had had no clue how to reach out to him, so she didn't bother trying. Since then, the only real opportunity she would've had to see him was at the wedding of Allison and her now-divorced husband, which Mara had to miss out on because of her school exams (and she was sure that he hadn't attended, anyway).

And, clearly, he had changed since they were seventeen. And for the better, it seemed.

His dark hair was now rather short, he had some stubble across the lower half of his face, and a long scar ran over the right side of his head, ending just at his cheek. It seemed as though he was ready for a fight, with his all-black ensemble and the utility gear he had strapped on, the blades of sheathed knives glinting in the light.