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“Who are you really?” Mrs. Edith took Gina’s pistol for herself but did not move the blade away. “Why have you come here?”

“No, no,” rushed Gina, “I actually was telling you the truth. And the gun--aha--I was just bluffing. It’s not even loaded. You can check for yourself. In fact, please do. I wasn’t really going to hurt anyone. I’ve never even fired a gun before, so--”

“Stop talking.”

Gina did so.

Mrs. Edith handed the pistol off to her pre-teen daughter instead of her husband, and the girl checked it for her.

“She’s telling the truth, Mom. No bullets.”

Gina tried to smile, but it didn’t come out quite right.

Lynnette’s father took a step closer. “Honey, please. The poor girl is terrified. Put your sword away before you get blood all over my carpet again.”

The woman sheathed her weapon, though her glare lingered.

“I’m really sorry,” said Gina. “It’s just--I don’t know how much time we have, so I’m assuming it’s not very long at all. If I leave any of you here, you’ll probably die or be taken hostage.”

“Fine,” said Lynnette’s mother. “I suppose you’ve demonstrated your conviction well enough. But if you are lying, I will ensure that you regret it.”

“Aha... ah...”

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Hector saw the familiar skyline just as evening began to arrive. He stayed away from downtown Brighton, however, circling around it instead. Apparently, his mother had chosen a hotel that was nowhere near their house. He supposed it made the most sense. The media would have probably still found her if she stayed somewhere close by.

He pulled into the parking lot and chose a space near the exit. A deep breath, and he dismounted. He decided it would be best to keep his helmet on until he absolutely had to take it off.

Garovel led him through the front entrance and up to the fifth floor. Hector would have preferred to just make a giant platform and sneak in through a window like he’d done previously, but there were too many people around this time. They soon arrived at his mother’s room.