Chapter-4

Anya pushed open the front door, still buzzing from the group chat chaos at school.

"I'm home!" she yelled, kicking off her shoes.

Yor appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. "Welcome back! You're late — you usually come home around 6:00, but today you're half an hour late."

Before Anya could answer, Loid's voice came from the living room.

"Mr. Henderson called a while back. He said the bus had some issues, so it took time to repair." He paused, eyeing Yor. "But I could ask the same for you. You were like an hour late yourself."

Loid's thoughts started swirling.

"Yor has always been... off. She's ridiculously strong. Sometimes she comes home with cuts on her arms and face, and she always brushes it off as 'cooking lessons.'"

Anya gasped silently as she overheard her father's thoughts.

"Oh no. Papa is getting suspicious. This is bad. This is REALLY bad."

Yor's mind was spiraling too.

"What do I say?! I need an excuse — something believable — come on, Yor, think—"

Her eyes lit up.

"Actually—" Yor started.

"Forget it," Loid cut in, his voice softer now. "It may not be my place to ask."

But his thoughts didn't stop.

"Yes, it's not my place. We're not a real couple or anything... WAIT. WHY DO I FEEL DISAPPOINTED?! WE ARE NOT A REAL COUPLE!"

Anya stared at her father like he was a teenage girl in love.

"Papa... you've already confessed to yourself that you might have feelings for this fake family. And yet... wow. You really need to figure out your priorities first."

Yor's thoughts broke through Anya's focus.

"Why did he cut me off?! I could have said I was lost and forgot my way home — that would have cleared his suspicion. What am I supposed to do in the future when the Shopkeeper gives me another last-minute assignment?!"

Anya's eyes widened.

"Ghaaaa— thank God Papa cut in, or else his suspicion would've doubled!"

Anya walked into her room, dropped her bag on the floor, and sat on the edge of her bed.

Her mind wandered back to school.

"What were Becky and the boys trying to tell me? Why did they make that group? Why did Damian keep leaving and coming back? It doesn't make sense..."

A loud bark interrupted her thoughts.

Bond barged through the door, tail wagging frantically.

"Borf! Borf!"

Anya frowned. "What is it, Bond?"

She read his mind — and immediately froze.

A robbery. An ATM robbery. At 7:45 PM.

Anya grabbed her phone.

7:11 PM.

"I have 34 minutes."

She sprang into action — yanking open her closet, pulling out a black bodysuit, black pants, and a mask.

She changed in seconds, stuffed her bag with supplies, and slammed her door open.

Loid and Yor flinched.

"What are you doing?!" Loid yelled. "Don't throw doors like that — you're going to break them!"

"Anya, where are you going with a bag?" Yor asked, her eyes narrowing. "And what's with that outfit? You're wearing total black."

Anya froze.

"What do I say?! I can't say there's a robbery and I need to stop it! Think, Anya, think—!"

"Becky wanted me to meet her!" Anya blurted. "She's down the street. We're going to study together. Yeah. Study."

Loid raised an eyebrow. "Do you need to cause such a commotion just for that? And next time, mention it before you change!"

"O-okay, Papa!" Anya stammered.

"But still," Yor said, tilting her head, "what's with the outfit?"

Anya glanced at the clock.

7:32 PM.

"AHHH I need to go FAST — what do I say — what do I say—"

"It's cold, Mama! Winter has come!" Anya said, letting out the most awkward laugh known to mankind.

Loid sighed deeply. "Leave her, Yor. She's always talking nonsense."

"H-haha yeah... GOTTA GO! BYE!"

Anya bolted out the door.

"Have fun! Don't stay out too late!" Yor called after her.

Loid sighed again. "Ha... this girl."

Yor smiled softly. "She's a teenager. She's going to meet her friends. Don't worry too much."

"Ugh... yeah," Loid muttered, though he couldn't help the worry creeping in.

Anya ran across the rooftops, the night sky now dark and dotted with stars.

She pulled out a black hospital mask and a pair of dark sunglasses, slipping them on as she approached the ATM.

"ATM, Ostania No. 4," she muttered, reading the sign. "Yes. This is it."

She checked her phone.

7:34 PM.

"Perfect. I have time to set everything up."

She climbed onto the roof of the building opposite the ATM and pulled out her homemade peanut bombs. Then she waited.

7:42 PM.

Anya slipped through the front door, mask and glasses still on. She moved quickly, finding a blind spot away from the security cameras, pretending to withdraw money.

Then — with practiced precision — she placed a sticky note over the camera lens, dragged a chair into position, and covered the lens completely.

She placed the bomb at the entrance and stepped back.

The thieves walked in.

7:44 PM.

Anya smiled behind her mask.

"Hi there."

—BOOM—

Smoke filled the room.

Anya moved through the haze like a shadow, reading their thoughts to locate them.

"Two inside... one in the van outside."

A flash of movement. Two punches. Two bodies hit the floor.

The third thief burst in, confused by the smoke — and Anya's fist greeted him instantly.