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09 · FRIENDLY, NEIGHBORHOOD, REVELATIONS

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09 · FRIENDLY, NEIGHBORHOOD, REVELATIONS

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SHE COULDN'T WAIT TO TRANSFER THE AUDIO FILES SHE RETRIEVED INTO HER LAPTOP WHEN SHE GOT HOME. She was filled with adrenaline on the way back to her house, giddily rapid-texting as the car drove stopped by traffic.

She fanned herself and rolled down the windows to breathe the cooler air. Even though the sky was dark and the air was smog-filled from the cars in front of them, it was still sort of refreshing, breathing it in.

Upon the sudden realization that her proof in the audio files showed her father doing business in the black market, her heart sank, leaving her to slump in the backseat and feel her energy slowly draining. Her father could go to jail. The Lodge family lifestyle could end for them.

As his daughter, she felt obligated to protect her father, his business, and to keep her way of life on the top of the social pyramid. As a human with morals, she needed to talk with the police. Soneone had to know and for some reason, she knew it was better not to tell her close friends. As tight she and Liz might be, there was something nagging in the back of her head, telling her not to say a word.

But she had to say something. She had to confide in at least one person besides Hubert. She told him everything, so it didn't feel like it counted.

As her energy drained slowly and her breathing slowed. She began to raise the window when suddenly she heard a scream.

"HELP! SOMEONE'S GOT MY PURSE!"

Typical New York night, she supposed.

Her first thought was, Well, sucks for her. This light better turn the hell green. So I don't feel guilty.

Her second thought was, Help her.

"You need to treat every single person with as much respect in order to receive the respect deserved."

"Hubert, just wait a minute," she said. Adrenaline back on.

She opened the door and hopped out, removing her shoes and chasing after the mugger. She ran as fast as she could with what little strength she mustered. Her legs, though aching, worked to keep her going through the streets. She screamed out, "STOP RUNNING, YOU SHITFACE! THAT'S NOT YOUR PURSE!"

Her breathing and step quickened when she turned into the corner and was met with a dark alley. It smelled like garbage, chemicals. Felt hot and humid. This wasn't right.

VERONICA · PETER PARKERWhere stories live. Discover now