Vigilantes// Matthew Murdock

TEN

To say Cara was mad would've been an understatement. She was absolutely furious. But she couldn't give a home to her anger. In fact, if anyone were to ask her who she was mad at, she was a certain that she wouldn't be able to give a specific name.

Was she mad at that Fisk guy who wanted to buy the Care-home for an enormous amount of money, she could only assume. What kind of a man would willingly deprive kids of their only shelter, of their only home.

But like all men, who were blinded by money and power, he had just simply made an offer. A very compelling one in his defense. He was a man of business by nature and like men of business he had offered a potential client a large sum of money for their property. He had done nothing wrong, nothing illegal by his actions and Cara knew that.

Then, Cara must've concluded, she was furious at Mrs. Magana for daring to consider such an offer. Sure it was a heck of amount of money that any person would have agreed without a second thought, but accepting it would've been wrong. For what little she knew about the older women, she would've been certain that she wasn't going to throw away the kids for a simple pile of money. But now, she wasn't so sure.

It wasn't that she doubted Mrs. Magañas love for the kids, but the woman had brought lawyers for gods sake.

Leaving kids without the only thing that they considered home was inhumane. But Mrs. Magana was looking into sending the kids to other places, better places she had assured. The Carehome never received much funding, with the money she would be getting the kids would be relocated to better locations, outside of a town that brought danger to them. The same town that caused many of them to end up in the care home in the first place.

Mrs. Magaña had explained this to her, and she made a compelling agruement while she did so. But Caras emotions at the moment over powered her and she stormed off.

Cara sighed and ran her fingers through her dark brown hair. She was angry at everyone and at no one just the same. She was frustrated. Back at her old town, she could easily pick out the bad from the good. It was much easier that way. No remorse, no regret. No second guessing. Things were easier. Now in Hell's Kitchen, things weren't so easy. Everything was not black or white. Everything was the same dull grey. It made everything ever so complicated, and Cara hated it.

After walking out of the conversation earlier, Cara had simply avoided her boss the entire day. Which wasn't so difficult, Cara's boss was a reasonable woman. She understood Cara was in no mood to talk to her and simply left her alone. Neither of the women spoke nor acknowledged one another until it was time to leave and they both gave curt goodbyes.

Cara was still upset when she got home and figured that a night patrol would get her mind off of the things gnawing at her mind. Maybe some people would walk around, doing unlawful things which she could use to her advantage and let out her anger on them.

Cara needed to feel nothing and, luckily, that's exactly what her alter ego did best.

Now on the rooftop of her neighboring building, she was staring off into the general direction of the Carehome. The kids, when she had left, were all sleeping soundly; none of them aware of what their uncertain futures had in store for them.

She thought about all of them and there lives. Although she was fairly new, she had grown fond of them, as them of her. It warmed her heart to be there for them and now that she might not be able to, it made her uneasy.

There was a possibility that nothing at all would happen; that Mrs. Magana would not take the rich man Fisk up on his offer and everything could remain exactly the way they were. But their previous conversation crept up into her mind and remained with fogging up her thoughts, infuriating her. It bothered Cara that she couldn't read Mrs. Magana well enough to be able to anticipate her next move. The old woman seemed to have her all figured out, but when it was the other way around, Cara could not read the women; even if it was to save her life.