The Long And Winding Road



Also Featuring:

colin_icon.gif bf_hiro_icon.gif kaito_icon.gif knox_icon.gif kris_icon.gif risa_icon.gif robinhood_icon.gif

Scene Title The Long and Winding Road
Synopsis Isabelle Ashford discovers the power of choice.
Date September 30, 2012 to November 17, 2014

The long and winding road
That leads to your door
Will never disappear
I've seen that road before
It always leads me here
Lead me to you door

It’s been a long road to get here, looking for answers where there might not be any, but under a slate blue sky and a burning sun, Isabelle Ashford has come seeking something she couldn’t easily find back east. Her cab pulls up at the corner of Island and West Carver street, idling at the curb until she pays for her fare. Though it’s the start of Autumn now, the sun still burns summer-hot over the flat landscape of southern California, dotted with identical cookie-cutter houses as far as the eye can see.

Stepping out onto the street, Isabelle squints against the sunlight, looking down Island Street to the first house on the corner, #55, a single-floor terracotta roofed ranch with white stucco walls and a palm tree in the front yard. A classic Dodge Charger — rust orange with a black stripe — sits in the driveway, not as shiny as one that sees regular waxing and maintenance would be. Bird shit has collected on the windshield and roof.

Coming up the sidewalk, there’s not much in the way of families out here. The temperature has reached nearly 100 degrees today, and she can feel it coming up off of the sidewalk. It doesn’t bother her any — fire never has.

Costa Verde


September 30th, 2012

1:11 pm

Approaching the house, Isabelle is left to wonder how different things may be from here to where she was from, what shape the truth could take, and what family might feel like in a world not her own. But she’s had questions, long since unanswered, and there’s only one person who can.

Thalia Ashford.

Hazel eyes take in the house and the car for a moment longer, eyebrows furrow as Isa hesitates. Right at the center of the puzzle, a door away from answer and her nerves creep up on her like a snake in the desert. Isa hadn't even wanted those answers.. or she had thought she didn't. She's not a quitter though, she always pushes forward and that brings her to the front door, gaze flicking to the windows before she rings the doorbell.

Taking a step back to put her hands in her the back pocket of her short shorts, the scuffed toe of her combat boots tapping on the pavement. A way for her to direct her excitement and anxiety without making the door burst into flames. Quelling her emotions to a more manageable level she tries a rehearsed smile, at ease.. carefree.

The mask drops instantly. She's stressed. Raking her hair with a shaky hand she adjusts her too large tank top that's half tucked in and re shoulders her backpack steeling herself with a breath before her face flattens into a neutral zone.

She wanted to meet her sister.

It's a while before anyone comes to the door, and a grizzled looking man in his early thirties isn't what Isabelle expected to see. “Fuck,” he blurts our, “frybaby what the fuck’s going on with you? Shit, did you break the fuck out?” He waves a hand into the house, stepping aside to look around on the street, scanning for someone.

The inside of the house is dirty and unkempt, dishes visible in the sink through the doorway, a television on far too loud, and empty pizza boxes stacked up by the door. “Get the fuck in here before you go and get me fucking killed.”

A blink at the man and the nickname frybaby. Isa sneers at the man before he says break the, “What?” The fuck, “Uh..” rushing forward the dark haired woman looks over her shoulder as she speeds into the house. “What do you mean? Who the fuck are you?” Looking around the living room in a rush.

This isn't how it was supposed to go. Where was her sister. “Where is Thalia?”

Break out? Was she in prison? Fuck that's great. Way to go Izzy. Cursing herself the pyrokinetic drags a hand through her hair and regards the dude with a quirked eyebrow. Pretending to be this world’s Isabelle doesn't seem like the best route but maybe he’ll just be confused and talk.

There’s an immediate look of confusion on the scraggly man’s face. He takes a step back, looks Isa up and down, and gives her an angry look. “Woah, you’re the one who fucking went all pyromanic on some cops in the mall! I'm not the one who got arrested. Thalia straight up fucking vanished after you got grabbed!”

He doesn’t explain who he is, he just looks demandingly at Isabelle, gesturing wildly as he talks. “They busted up in your bar, you were on the fucking phone with me.” Now he’s suspicious, paranoid and pacing around the small kitchen the front door opened into. “Are you on fucking drugs, Belle?”

“That— ” …Isa’s face twists into confusion before it dawns on her. “Oh no no no.” Shaking her head from side to side she flaps her hands on either side and tries to calm herself. “Yes that was me but it wasn't… listen motherfucker. This will be a whole lot easier to explain if we sit the fuck down.” A thought, “And I wish I was at this fucking point.” On drugs.

Taking a seat or rather leaning against the kitchen counter she rakes her hair again, fuck fuck fuck. The pyro lifts her hand to rub at her bare arm, “That was me in the mall but it wasn't your Isabelle.” There’s a moment to let that moment hang and she's holding her hands out, “Listen if I can do this,” a single fire erupts into a brilliant flame that only lasts for a few seconds before there's smoke trailing from where flames were.

“Then.. alternate timelines can't be that far fetched to believe. The world I come from was decimated by an virus. I didn't know of Thalia there shit I wasn’t that interested in my family at the time.” Something she still regrets, “But I wound up here with a few other people through some portal shit and now here I am.” This sounds insane. “You can quiz me I literally have no idea what Isabelle here or Thalia have been up too.”

“I have no idea who you are.” She's not sure if that helps her case or not.

There’s a baffled look from the man who absolutely does not sit down, watching Isabelle with abject confusion in his eyes. For a moment he’s in stunned silence, looking at the brunette in front of him as someone might a space alien that fell from the sky. His lips part, as if about to say something, then close and he wrenches his brows into a confused expression as he walks a few paces away from her and rakes a hand through his short hair.

“Fuck, I…” He gives no indication of who he is, still looking at Isabelle like something is wrong with her. After a moment he glances to a cell phone sitting on the countertop in the kitchen, then back to Isabelle. “Belle, are you using again? Fuck, fuck, I can’t be around this shit I can’t violate my fucking parole. You…” he stares vacantly for a moment, “you've gotta go. I don’t need this heat. How the fuck could you do this to us, to your sister?”

This is not working. And this man is not getting it. At all. It's not his fault but clearly Isa doesn't really have time for all of this. “Heat?” The pyrokinetic stands up and the temperature in the room rises with her. Stepping forward she sighs a frustrated sigh, “I am not on drugs. God fucking damn it.” Izzy clenches her fist. “I want answers. You have them but you're not giving them.”

“If you think me doing drugs of any kind compares to the danger I put you in by coming here.” Isa stops herself and throws her hands up. She noticed that look to the cellphone and she has a solution to that problem if he goes for it. It wasn't her intent to get him thrown back into prison. But this was a selfish thing, chasing these answers and leaving chaos in her wake.

“I needed to know. Where I come from. I do not know who you are. Please, tell me your name.” She's desperate, Isa isn't sure how to explain this right. Maybe Magnes should have came with, she wanted to do this on her own though. For herself.

“Jesus Christ, Belle, stop!” He screams, backing away from her as the carpet under her feet begins to smolder and blacken. “Get the fuck out of the house! You lost your fucking mind!? What’re you gonna do, burn your sister’s house down in a fuckin’ coke-fueled rage? Or is it fuckin’ pills again?” Whoever he is, he seems completely unwilling to play Isabelle’s game.

“Thal’s in prison because of you or worse!” He’s livid now, pacing back and forth several feet from Isabelle between kitchen and living room. “Are you a fuckin’ terrorist now, is that it? I don’t have any fuckin’ money for you and you can’t stay here anymore! I thought you were clean!

Thalia in prison too. The words echo in her mind and Isa takes a step back trying to reign in her emotions, frustration at the situation. “I…” She looks down at her hands then past them to the blackened carpet. “I didn't mean any of this.” She says with a sigh and her hand shakes so she shoves it in her pocket. Yes, there is a flask in her bag but he doesn't need to know that. It wouldn't help her case.

“I swear to you. I am not on drugs.” Not today. Not enough to be considered an addict But alcohol? Well.. the pyro looks through the house, the living room. Her sister’s living room. “I just need answers.” She hasn't made a move to leave but she figures this guy has to know not to charge her, not to try anything. It feels like a waste of time. He has to know the lengths she is capable of. It sure sounded like it to Izzy.

She tries to piece together what he's said, it's their house. He's the husband or the loser boyfriend without a job. God. “I want to find Thalia. That's all.”

“You don’t fucking think I want to find her?” He screams, waving his hands wildly. “I don’t know where she is, she’s been gone ever since you got got.” The anger wells back up again, and after circling the room a few times he comes back with an accusation. “Did you fuckin’ kill anybody? Jesus christ, did you kill anybody when you busted out, Belle? Please tell me you didn’t kill a fucking cop.

He has a moment of hesitation, a look to the door, then back to Isabelle. “I’m really sorry.” There’s a sudden, loud knock on the door.

Police! Mr. Verse, are you in there?

Corner of his mouth twitching into a rueful expression, Thalia’s housemate of indeterminate nature raises his hands in an awkward gesture. “You didn’t give me any fucking choice, Belle. You need help.” He didn’t need to reach for the phone at all, if he was a technopath.


The knock on the door comes right after he accuses her of murder to which she might have replied: ‘Yea but on a different world.’ But since Verse had to go ahead and do his ah fuck he didn't need to touch the phone. Izzy's eyes narrow to silts and the temperature rises again, more of the carpet blackens and her nostrils flare.

This is how you help me?!” The pyro holds back a scream, she hears the pounding of the door there and she knows they might have her surrounded. Fine, be that way.

Izzy looks at the chair to her right as it bursts into flames before she's striding forward the fire crackling and popping behind her. As she moves her hand erupts into a brilliant orange flame that she casually holds in the air, “Move. Back of the house.” Walking up close to him, she takes her other hand and grabs his arm. “Now.”

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a hostage situation.

Fuck!” He screams, dragged back and away from the living room. His cry of fright only elicits further pounding from the police on the other side of the door. “Belle, Belle, Belle,” Colin splutters. “Listen to me, think this thing through. They already nabbed you once, right? Belle, this was just a patrol car in the area. You start napalming hostages and FRONTLINE is going to show up and put you and me in the ground.”

“You need help!” Colin tries to sound reasonable. “Look at you! You’re— fucking taking your brother-in-law hostage! Come on, think this through. Where are you gonna go? There’s nowhere to run.”

“Now was that so hard!” Izzy does scream though she tries to bite it back, “How Long have you been married?” He's cute enough, the Ashford sisters had good taste. But this guy also was an asshole. “I'm sure the other me they got was very confused about why they would be after her. I am now.

Shoving the man back further into the house, she remembers FRONTLINE, they weren't present in her world but at the mall.. the mall where this mess all starts. That beefy dude and his partner. Call her cocky, she's not worried. But her brother in law is at least speaking now. “Open the back window. If you do anything I don't like. I will make you ash.” Her voice is cold, a contrast to the flames in one hand and the heat radiating off of her.

“Yea Yea we weren't all family two minutes ago I was a junkie. You just couldn't answer my fucking question!” She's nervous, fuck where is she running? Fuck if she knows but she's got a hostage. “Get a move on!”

“Belle you escaped prison.” Colin tries to remind her as he moves to the window, nervously unlocking it. “You can’t even remember the wedding? Christ, you were the maid of honor. You promised to get sober so you could do it. Belle, that was two months before you got arrested.” There’s a desperate, hopeless look in Colin’s eyes. “Listen to yourself right now. You sound crazy.”

The knocking at the door gets louder, “Mr. Verse?” Then, “fuck it,” followed by a sound kick on the door and the scattering of broken hinges onto the floor. “Costa Verde Police! Step out into the open with your hands above your head!

“Listen Verse. You're not hearing to me. There's an Isa in prison. And there's me right here. I mean I wish I had her right here to stand next to me but you're not a fucking idiot. Have you ever seen me like this? In particular talking about shit.. like this??” She does sound crazy. She knows it but welp they're inside the house now and time is limited even more.

Wow she got to be the maid of honor in her sister’s wedding, this timeline was loads better than hers, “Where I'm from I didn't even know I had a sister. She probably didn't even get married,” she says softly but that in no way means she's not still angry. Currently she's angry that the fucking police are here.

Pushing Colin out of the window. The pyro takes a look behind her shoulder before she lets loose a jet of flame in the entry to the back of the house, “BACK THE FUCK UP OR I WILL FRY THIS MOTHERFUCKER!” Scrambling to think of something else to say that might deter them, “THE CAT WILL GET IT FIRST!!”

And then she's climbing out the window to grab at Colin’s arm, “Not a word above a whisper.” She whispers herself even though the roar of the flames might mask them making much noise.

Struggling to get up to his feet from the back yard after being pushed out a window, Colin jerks his arm away from Isabelle. “No.” He stands in direct defiance, looking at her as though he doesn’t even recognize her anymore. His reaction is more true than he realizes. “Belle, you can’t do this. Just give yourself up to the police, please.” In the distance, there’s the guttering noise of approaching helicopters.

Please.” Colin reiterates. “Bella, for fuck’s sake. Don’t do this.”

The thing with fire is once it's raged too far.. it's hard to stop and Izzy feels as if her steps have been ordered, she's picked her path. Sorry Liz and Magnes. Shaw. She said she’d keep a low profile, she's not very good at it. Isa stalks towards Colin but she falters a little, does she want to do this? In search of answers?

Fuck yes.

“No time to be shoved in holes with no light Brother.” Isa grabs for his arm and she's making for the fence. They’ll have to climb. “Climb or.” She doesn't finish but just gives him a look. The helicopters in the distance cause her to get more anxious. Fuck.

«This is the Costa Verde Police!» Booms from a bullhorn emanating from one of the circling helicopters. «Lay down on the ground and surrender yourself!»

They hadn't even gotten over the fence, and that call has Colin looking wide-eyed at Isabelle. “Belle stop! Stop they’ll shoot you! Belle you've gotta stop!” There's police at the back of the house now too, in different rooms, shouting, pointing out to where Isabelle and Colin are by the fence.

This doesn't look good.

Getting caught? Is just not an option. “Fuck!” She runs a hand through her hair and her hand burns a brilliant golden orange before the rest of her arm and chest become covered in flames. The material of her backpack begins to smoke as well as her clothes, slamming her fist against the fence she unleashes her fire on the fence before she's kicking at it and backing up and looking over at Colin, “They won't believe you. Better come with. I'll show you I'm telling the truth.”

She runs to the fence to throw herself through with a cry, the flames raging around her. If Verse decided to come with an opening would be there for him but it soon closes sealing her behind a wall of flame but there are helicopters. Isa's fists engulfed in flames are at her side, she shrugs off her backpack and holds the strap in one hand that she returns to normal, and then she runs.

Colin stares, wide-eyed, and the last thing Isabelle sees of him is his horrified countenance watching the wall of fire close as he stands, slowly moving his hands behind his head.

He didn't come.

When Isabelle lands on the other side of the fence, breaking into a run, she can hear someone howling at her over the bullhorn. There's sirens blaring in the nearby streets, and Isabelle is fleeing through backyards, arms wreathed in flames. But her flight only goes so far, two more fences precisely, before she explodes out through burning wood onto a sidewalk and comes face to face with two police cruisers skidding to a stop, armed officers getting out and aiming at her.

Down on the ground now!” Two shout in unison. Helicopters continue to circle overhead. The noose is tightening.

Well there goes that loose thread. Hair in her face and scraps on her arms but she's in one piece for now. Hazel eyes wide and then Isa is bracing herself as she sees the police cruisers skidding to a stop in front of her, a growl from the pyro and then she's throwing her arms out to throw fire towards both of the cruisers in hopes that they move from the vehicle and then she's gunning to for the police cruiser.

Leaping for the open door, she tries to slam the door shut and extinguish the flames on her hands and arms to throw the car in gear so that she can peel out of there. Izzy is nervous and she feels that metaphoric noose around her neck but she funnels her nervous energy into action.

Flames, screams, confusion. The officers who dove away from Isabelle’s flames turn and fire at the car the second she’s closed up inside of it. The bullets ping and plonk against the side of the cruiser, spider web bullet-resistant glass. Tires screech, smoke issues off of her hands where they grip the steering wheel. In the rear view she can see smoke and fire, cops scrambling.

The aren't equipped to handle this.

«Fox-4 we have a Code-99 response team inbound what's your situation, over?»

Not much of that makes sense to Isabelle, but she parses enough to know that it means trouble. Response team always does. As she speeds down the road, there's a crackle and pop over the radio followed by a different voice.

«Fox-4 I can see you boosted a cop car and I think that's fuckin’ sweet. Take your next right unless you wanna’ run headlong into a fucking FRONTLINE tank.»


As Isa speeds down the street trying her best to see out of the windshield, luckily it's not all spidery and the brunette takes a deep breath as she hears the voices over the radio. Response team? Fuckkkk. Slamming her hand in the steering wheel she bunches her shoulders up and leans forward and then she hears.. “What the fuck?”

Asked aloud Isa squints at the radio, “Err, okay!” She shouts out and as the next right comes up she presses the brake and spins the wheel so that she ends up doing a sharp turn to the right.

This is her first high speed chase and she can't help her grin a little, she has help? Izzy’s hands tighten on the wheel, “Come on motherfuckers.”

Sirens are blaring behind Isabelle, blue and red lights flashing in th the distance. That voice comes over the radio again: «Woo! Look at you go! Okay, okay! Stay on this street and then take your fifth right, I'm phoning a friend.»

Helicopters are circling overhead, two of them now, easily following Isabelle’s stolen cop car. «Oh and unless you use the little receiver piece I can't hear you if you're talking.»

The voice is offering a lot of encouragement and Izzy can't help but revel in its words, “Fuck yea!” She shouts and throws a fist to punch the roof of the car, ow. Shaking her hand out she goes for the receiver to click, “Well fucking hell you’re an angel. Drinks on me after this.” Because the prospect of friends in the most unlikely places gives her hope, she can do this.

The heat in the car would be unbearable for most but Izzy with half her clothes burned off and smoke still coming off of her body feels alive. With a smirk she keeps the car steady before she's giving a look over her shoulder for a brief moment before her gaze goes back to the road. Fifth right?

Tightening her grip again and relaxing her posture so she's not so rigid the woman settles in and as they come up on the right she needs to make, rolling the window down she holds her hand out and ejects a jet of flame behind her, a further distraction of course. Her heart thumping loudly in her chest, she's on the go.

Banking to the right she's reaching for the receiver, “A friend?” They’d have to be some fucking friend to help with this shit.

«Haha dude this is so sweet.» Chimes the voice over the other end of the radio, and after hearing it a few times Isabelle is fairly certain they're young — very young. «Yeah ok, up ahead you'll see an off-ramp with detour signs blocking it? Fucking plow through them!»

Sure enough, after the fifth right turn there's an onramp to the freeway, but it isn't completed. There's wooden barricades and signs that read detour, and past them the offramo curves up about sixty feet toward the freeway overpass and then just… stops.

«Yeah, Yeah! That way!»


“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Izzy screams into the receiver as she realizes that she's probably talking to a fucking kid. What is this? New Mutants? Isa looks ahead with wide eyes but she's pass the point of no return. Instead, she shakes her head one, two, three times and looks up at the rear view as she throws the receiver in her lap and nervous energy ripples through her arms.

“Mother of god, flames I don't know who the fuck is up there,” a glance upwards before she slams her foot harder on the accelerator the cruiser whining underneath her, she's gunning it as hard as she can, eyes steady on the object, “I will not die. I will not die. I will not die. I will not dieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”

Izzy’s mantra becomes a loud, drawn out yell as she speeds up the off ramp and crashes through the signs catching air as she drives off the ramp.

And nothing happens.

Isabelle opens one eye, silence her only companion otherwise, and the car hangs motionlessly in the air. The sky is clear, clouds pale, sun bright. It’s only then that she notices there’s someone in the passenger seat beside her, dressed all in black, hair tied back into a pony-tail. The sly smile on Hiro Nakamura’s face is Cheshire in nature, and the sword resting across his lap a bit more business-oriented.

“You look a lot like her,” Hiro admits with a raise of one brow and a drum of fingers on the scabbard in his lap. “I can see why the police are confused, why… everything is confused.” Hiro looks out the passenger side window, to the ground far below, then back to Isabelle. “We need to talk, and I think you might find where I’m going a little easier to handle than the landing you’re about to have.”

Smugly, he offers out a hand. “Come with me if you want to live,” is something he’s always wanted to say.

With a, “What in the fucking fuck— ” before her gaze slides over the man with a sword in his lap peering over at her while they're stopped midair//. His cryptic words make her eyes squint and she tilts her head. “Do you mean the other me?” Izzy is real tired of talking in metaphors and loose meanings at this point.

Guy with a sword, Asian, can stop time. She's heard enough stories to know, “Hiro.”

It's not like she has choice, with a look over her shoulder she returns his smug look with a hot glare, the temp rises just the smallest as she takes his hand. “Honestly, I have nothing fucking better to do.”

Hiro furrows his brows, looking down to Isabelle’s hand in his. “You're lucky Robin Hood messaged me.”

Wait, Who?

The wild and windy night
That the rain washed away
Has left a pool of tears
Crying for the day
Why leave me standing here?
Let me know the way

Eke Crater

Maui, Hawaii

October 22, 2012

2:13 pm local time

Again! This time, focus on the fire, feel it burn and consume.”

It's been more than a month since Isabelle’s escape from the Costa Verde police. More than a month and thankfully they are no closer to positively identifying her, even with Colin’s testimony that she is Isabelle Ashford. The technopath that saved her, known only as his alias Robin Hood has kept a close eye on police scanners since then. Pinehearst must know by now, must have pieced two and two together, but they haven't made a move.

“Now, remember. Stay in control. You are the fire.”

Each week since her rescue, Hiro Nakamura has taken Isabelle to another corner of the world to meet his father, Kaito. Each week Kaito has taken the time out of his day to temper the inferno, to take the rage building inside of her and focus it into something razor sharp. Each week, Kaito Nakamura hits Isabelle with a fucking stick.


The kendo sword snaps loudly against Isabelle’s shoulder. The pain is just a sting, but it's a more humiliating injury than anything — an irritation. The two stand atop the plateau at the heart of a Hawaiian crater, nothing but vegetation and rocks as far as the eye can see until everything is swallowed by the sea.

Ignore me! Concentrate!

Above Isabelle, a sphere of perfectly still fire threatens to gutter out like a candle. Each time Kaito smacks her with the kendo saber, each stinging blow, her concentration falters and the sphere of flame ripples. But this is the lesson, an offer to control her temper, to control her fire and find a center. But the only way out through all of her anger…

…is through.

This was not what Isa had imagined. When she had first decided to follow that lead to Costa Verde and to her sister Thalia’s husband. Some things had changed, others not so much.

A grit of her teeth and a hiss between them in reply to that fucking stick smacking her. At the very first meeting, the smacks were all met with very creative swearing and crying out. As the weeks went on she winced with each whack still but her ‘Fuck yous’ has lessened. The glow from the sphere of fire hovering above her shines down on her face as she squints her eyes and flexes her fingers again as she wraps her mind mentally around that ball of fire. Feeling is as a part of her, an extension. A dear friend that she's just now seeing again for the first time.

It was an offer she couldn't refuse, one that led to answers and training in the middle of craters. The heat was welcome and as Izzy stabilizes the fire above her she sets her jaw muscles and stares straight ahead of her at Kaito. A powerful man. A ally, a friend? Isa was still feeling that out but they hadn't tried to kill her so that made them friends in her book.

The pyro’s gaze goes up to take in the size of the sphere of fire, eyes alight before Kaito lands another blow, “Fuck!” Old Habits.

“If you want to be of any help to your other self and your sister, you're going to need to learn how to control your ability.” Kaito explains, “If we were not already watching for you after what happened years ago, you might well be in a prison. Your temper is destructive, and there is a time for destruction, that time is not now.”


Through the distraction and the pain, Isabelle is given a focus. Something to work toward at the same time that she fights back against the rage inside of her. Something as powerful as fire: her desire for family.

The reminder of her family makes her lean forward, muscles in her neck and shoulders popping out and she grunts at the whack before squaring her shoulders as the fire ripples overhead, never fully going out. Her brunette hair tied back into a loose ponytail that sways this way and that with her movements.

There's a moment of centering as she focuses on.. other herself… and her sister. They were taken in because of her, she couldn't deny that and it made her feel like shit. Kaito’s words of tempers and their destructive natures gets a curt nod from the woman. “I'm very much used to just burning my way through my problems.” Leaving chaos in her wake, the stench of the past flames never left.

Breathing deeply she gazed up at the ball of fire in the air and nods her head, “Deep breaths.” She was in the middle of the sea. In nature. She was an embodiment of nature herself in a sense. Feeling the energy around her, the heat. And funneling it into the fireball to make it grow.

The sphere of flames expands, growing like a small sun over Isabelle’s head above her outstretched hands. Kaito watches the flames spread, consume, expand. He steadies himself, jaw set and brows furrowed, watching with tense uncertainty as the sphere of fire is reflected in his dark eyes.

Excellent,” Kaito intones, his eyes narrowed.


Many times I've been alone
And many times I've cried
Any way you'll never know
The many ways I've tried

Rochester Institute of Technology

Rochester, NY

March 11, 2013

10:17 am

“When an explosive detonates, there is a rapid rearrangement of atoms which sets off a powerful train of events.”

This isn't the life Isabelle Ashford planned for herself, but it's also one she didn't ever really imagine. The false identity supplied by Tamara when she arrived has opened many doors for her, and the guidance of Kaito Nakamura subtly opening others. When she’d gone out to KCU with Magnes last year, she'd never imagined she'd be attending college courses on her own. And yet, here she is.

“In 2006, A supersonic shock wave rippled across asphalt. It rose above the New York skyline. The initial shockwave shattered everything in millionths of a second.”

Chemical engineering isn't a life path Isabelle expected for herself, but it was one Kaito predicted she'd excel at. Learning how things combust, explode, and break down has helped her more fundamentally understand her own ability and it's volatile nature. Seated in the back row of a lecture hall, listening to her professor talk about explosions, Isabelle is left to wonder how her life became the way it is. But in a way, it's refreshing.

“The airblast which followed spread debris over a mile.”

Psst. A peer at her right hisses to get Isabelle’s attention, a man a few years her junior with short and messy brown hair styled in a spiky fashion. “Hey,” he says softly, sliding a folded note across and onto her notebook.

Isa Goes To College.

After the first week of booze and dragging Shaw along to social functions she buckled down and was surprisingly… smarter than she believed she was. It is refreshing, the substitute for constant drinking and rage for training and studying is a new dawn. One the pyrokinetic was reveling in as she plays with her pen tapping it lightly on the keyboard of her laptop. How in the fuck did she end up here? She wonders if Thalia had a science like brain, was she the smarter one? Was Isa the brute side of the both of them? She asked these questions and made assumptions on a sister she has never met. Painting a picture. She was losing hope she would ever get to see her.

Her clothes casual but not very much like the way she use to only dress back home. Before the virus. Now it's pants, skirts (of a sometimes questionable length but only to make Shaw gulp), never a jacket.

A proper student, what did Headley say? It was never too late for her. And it's coming out to be well.. true. Her moods had stopped always being in that dark place, Kaito had been helping to temper that. Flinging a brown strand of hair over her shoulder as the spiky haired dude decides to interrupt her not totally paying attention to the professor time.

Tilting her head and raising an eyebrow she reaches for the note and unfolds it… whispering, “Listen if this is a request for a date,” she’d never do that to BaeShaw. But here she is, learning science.

The piece of paper has a sketch in red pen, of a closed fist. It’s a symbol that Isabelle only came to know here in this world, a symbol that represents an underground resistance movement opposed to the Pinehearst corporation: the Guardians. If the news is to be believed, it’s a terrorist organization run by CEO-in-exile Kaito Nakamura and his son Hiro, fugitives of justice fighting against law and order and carrying on the dark history of the Company. This world’s Pariah, sans the lionization in the press and heroic martyring.

“I heard you’re cool,” the young man who passed her the note says, offering out a hand next. “Kris,” he says with a conspiratorial tone. “Ponytail wanted me to say hi, told me some stuff about your uh, missing family.” Kris offers a look at the student sitting in the row ahead, offering him a glare when he looks over his shoulder, then turns back to Isabelle. “When the lecture is over, we should talk more, maybe?”

Hazel eyes squint at that sketch and Izzy is still for a few moments as she mulls over Kris’ words, “Cool might not be the accurate way to describe me.” A hint of a dark smile crosses Isa’s lips and she looks over the young man again. Ponytail, this guy liked nicknames. Stretching her legs out in front of her, goosebumps raise on her arms as her missing family is brought up. Head snaps to the side to look at him, a thirst for information on them gnawing at her insides.

Kaito’s training has been fruitful though and she holds her breath counting back from five before unclenching her fists (which she hadn't realized she had even clenched) and leaning forward on her elbows. How could she get to them? Wherever they were.. well. She had an idea.

Looking down at the sketch of the fist laid out in front of her she nods her head mutely before giving Kris a sidelong look, “This better be good news.” Isabelle couldn't confess how desperate she was for any good news on the two sisters. Her sisters, if you would. Ignoring the fact that she was the direct copy of one of those sisters but they shared the same blood, Isa didn't make the rules.

She just reduced them to ash.

The face Kris eventually makes implies that it isn't, in fact, good news. “We figured out where your, uh, twin sister is?” The look on Kris’ face implies that he isn't fully aware of Isabelle’s situation. “She was grabbed by UEO at her apartment after footage from the mall attack showed her — you — uh, yeah. Bad case of mistaken identity there.”

Fumbling a bit over his words, Kris glances at the professor then back to Isabelle. “Anyway, there's a high-sec prison. Secret-sauce. Major defenses, can't just zip in and zip out, and Pinehearst had her moved there.” But then, with regards to Thalia, Kris spreads his hands. “Far as we know nobody grabbed Thalia. She just straight-up vanished. Might have gone into hiding. We’re still looking.”

Fuck. Closing her eyes to retreat to a quiet, dark place that she couldn't really call quiet now because her mind was spinning from the fact that she was the reason all of this happened. Shaking her head, her arms tremble and then she's staring up at the ceiling before gripping the edges of her desk. High-sec, Pinehearst. Pinehearst. Isabelle’s training from Kaito is strong yes but her emotions threaten to unleash the anger within her.

“Ho— ” She has to catch herself from growling and looks away from Kris to just past his ear. “Fuck.”

“How do we get my twin and how do we find our sister?” There had to be a way, she was desperate and the looking away was more to avert his gaze so he couldn't see it in her eyes though she fails miserably at hiding it from her tone, thick with emotion and she closes her eyes. “I don't know what to do.”

“I don’t have a good answer for that,” Kris apologetically admits, “but finding your twin is the first step. People are working on plans, and… your sister? I don’t know. We’re trying, but she went right off the grid. I just wanted you to know you’re not alone and… maybe if you’re interested sometime, you could come see our, ah, clubhouse?

Kris flashes Isabelle a fond smile. “Some of us have a place nice and tucked away, out of sight. I can take you there sometime, maybe? Introduce you to the Cool Kids Club?” There’s another fond smile, and Kris slouches back in his seat, glancing at the professor. “It might be nice to have some friends who are in a position like you, wanting to get back at the Man but not knowing how.”

“Clubhouse.” Said flatly and Izzy raises an eyebrow with a hard look in Kris’ direction. She had friends, her traveler friends. It's not like she couldn't have more friends, friends were good. Maybe Magnes would be happy she's getting out there, Shaw too. There's s bit of a silence as Izzy details one thing the professor is saying before she sets her pen down and drums her fingers lightly on the desk before she breaks out into her own smile, “Where’s this Cool Kids Club?

She did want to get back at the Man. She hated the man. Izzy also hated herself a fair bit.

Kris grins, leaning back in his seat and losing the conspiratorial tone, talking just a touch too loudly. “It's a place for people like us to talk and— ”

“Excuse me,” the professor levels a flat look at Kris, who ducks down in his seat. “If you have a suggestion on the curriculum I'll invite you to come up and deliver it.”

Kris raises his brows and mouths the word later, then disappears in a flashing haze of pink light and glittering sparks.

The professor sighs, heavily.

But still they lead me back
To the long winding road
You left me standing here
A long long time ago
Don't leave me waiting here
Lead me to your door

Below Manhattan

October 31, 2013

8:15 pm


Dozens of voices echo in the cramped confines of a brick-walled subterranean hideout. One cries out over the others, a slinking woman weaving her way through the crowd of dancing young men and women decked out in Halloween costumes. New York City is riddled with forgotten corners such as these, and the Guardians have taken some of them as bases of operations. Or, at times, places to party.

Izzaaaay! Shots!

Risa Lynette has become a fast friend to Isabelle Ashford. Fast enough that she's made a beeline for the pyrokinetic the second she came down the stairs into the derelict subway station, carrying a bottle of tequila in one hand and two red plastic cups in the other. She's also dressed like the literal devil, horns and all. But that's not surprising either.

It's been months since Kris introduced her to the “Cool Kids”, a gathering of disaffected youths who work to fight against the secret tyranny of Pinehearst. Some are former test subjects of their inhumane genetic experimentation, others are ex-Pariah who leapfrogged from one fight to another. They're not numerous, but they're tightly knit.

“C’mon, let's get so hammered that I can't even see the present.” Risa playfully suggests, pouring a shot’s worth of tequila into one of the plastic cups.

Together, these young people are led by Hiro Nakamura in hit-and-run attacks on Pinehearst holdings, liberating prisoners and destroying laboratories. But every month more and more of them disappear as Pinehearst closes the noose on the Nakamuras. Unless they strike a critical blow against Pinehearst, it will only be a matter of time before there's nowhere left to hide.

But for tonight…

…tonight the battle is further away.

“Ris! Baby! Darling! You look fantastic!” Isa screams over the roar of people and music and when her friend reaches her she grins and leans forward, “The devil’s in the house!” Taking the woman’s hand before doing a spin, she's dressed in a costume herself. Well, dressed will be the wrong word but not yet. Still clad in her black miniskirt and a tight purple tank the pyro takes the tequila and laughs as she cheers and downs the shot before yelling for another.

She felt that she could do anything with these young people, take on the world. Their numbers were dwindling but Izzy told herself that was because they were a problem which meant they were doing something right after all. The Guardians understood her in a way most couldn't. While the other survivors of the Virus might also hold anger in their hearts.

It burned through Izzy's veins.

She felt that pulse, that rush with these people. With Risa and Kris. Izzy had been keeping it a secret, something just for her the brunette reasoned. Something she could channel her anger into… her guilt. “When's the next mission!” She asks over the music, Isa was known to be anxious to do more. Always more.

She was lost in it.

“I don't even know!” Risa shouts over the music. “Fuck it! We ain't on one now, so why sorry about it!?” In the same moment, Isabelle catches faces that are harder to put away in the crowd. Talking to Kris is someone she lost before the leap to this world.

Isabelle’s known that Knox was among the Guardians, but he'd been preoccupied out west. Now, it seems, his ghost has come to haunt her coast. He's standing by the side of the mass of dancing people, conspiring with Kris who seems more interested in his drink and bobbing his head to the music. It was the first time she'd been this close to someone who she knew, someone who died, and now there's a second chance.

Risa raises a brow, following Isabelle’s eyeline. “Hey,” she leans in front of Isabelle. “I'm just saying, Shaw ain't here. You do you.” Risa kicks up her brows again and leans out of Isabelle’s way.

As aggressive as she can be, Izzy is still a party animal and so she echoes Risa’s sentiments, “Fuck it!!” Yelping as she takes another shot, hazel eyes drawing closed as she shakes the thoughts of her sisters off. Whatever right? She had been working hard. She deserved a break. Where is Thalia? The question seems to vibrate through her whole body and turning her gaze to take in Knox causes the brunette to stand up straighter, a faint smile on her lips.

Someone who had died but stood in front of her alive, one of them. The Hub survivors.. well not actually but his face gave her comfort. Isa knew that she could trust him.

Rolling her eyes at Risa the pyrokinetic yanks the bottle out of her hands and pours a healthy amount of tequila in her cup, “Don’t go trying to woo me to my old ways girl!” She liked Shahid, a lot but a good natured grin flashed the other woman’s way before Izzy backs away and takes a sip in cheers in Risa’s direction, “We’re dancing in a few!” Before she’s striding in Knox and Kris’ direction. Feeling like she knew what to say to the counterparts of the timeline she originated from was… still not something Isabelle could say she felt comfortable with. Emotions, man.

Nonetheless, she takes up a wide legged stance as she nods to the men cup held up lazily in the air, “Hey boys,” a tilt of her head as the lights of the place catch her eyes. “You,” jutting her chin out towards Kris, “Look like you're enjoying this like Risa.” Eyes flicking to Knox’s form, “You seem.. like you're ready to go on a hunt.”

Knox looks suspiciously at Isabelle when she arrives, then to Kris who lights up at the interruption from all the serious talk. “Hey!” Kris greets, raising his cup in a cheers gesture. “This is Benjamin! Goes by the name Knox! He's from our west coast, came to replace Cyrus!”

Knox tips his chin up in greeting, then offers a hand out in a wordles hello. He isn't going to shout over the music. Kris, in turn, just keeps talking. “Knox brought some really good info out from back West! We might have a huge project coming up!

Mmmhmm, that's what she's looking forward. A look over her shoulder to spot Risa’s partying form before Isabelle returns her gaze to Knox and Kris, taking Knox’s hand and shaking it firmly while looking him in the eye, she had no fear of this man. Remembering his ability, remembering meeting him down below. Her smile is dazzling and she dips her head, “Huge project? Hmm like the big shabang?” Knocking back a fair bit of that tequila with a lazy grin afterwards.

A half lidded gaze turned towards Knox and lifts a hand as it is engulfed in orange and red flames the fire reflecting in her eyes, dancing. “I'm good at bang.”

There's a little bit of a lull as Isa stands there before allowing the fire to go out with a whoosh and black smoke rising her hands. “I'd like to be a part.” That much is obvious, the only way to use the resources of the Guardians to find her sisters and get them to safety was to get deeper in, more than she could have guessed she could go. “What's out west?” Her free hand still faintly smoking hand goes to rest on her hip.

“Robin Hood nailed some details on a secret prison in Utah. Pinehearst research project, keeping their lab rats under lock and key. It’s Arthur Petrelli’s private playground, sanctioned and sponsored by Uncle Fucking Sam.” Knox looks over to Kris, then back to Isabelle. “We’re thinking about hitting it eventually, but right now we got bigger things. Leadership needs us to knock Pinehearst down a peg and stop some weapons research they’re doing.”

Knox cracks a smile at Isabelle, glancing at Kris and then back to the pyrokinetic. “An’ I think bang is exactly what we need.”

But still they lead me back to the long and winding road
You left me standing here a long, long time ago

An Abandoned Warehouse

Jersey City, New Jersey

May 7, 2014

8:18 pm

The creak of a metal door welcomes Isabelle and Risa into the warehouse, past dropcloth covered metalworking machinery, past bins of old scrap and stacks of copper piping. The lights are turned off here, so as to not shine into the night. But as the pair walk through the warehouse, they make a beeline for the basement stairs. They’ve been here a dozen times before, and tonight is no different.

Finals are next week, and Isabelle has been splitting her time between studying and her side job working with the Guardians. But that is a slow going process, a meeting every three or four weeks, a quick conversation in a public place to avoid scrutiny, clandestine movements back and forth under the ever growing eye of Unity Enforcement. But it’s starting to culminate in something big, even if she doesn’t have all of the pieces yet.

Heading down the metal stairs, Isabelle and Risa push open the door at the bottom and empty out into a well-lit storage room come office space. Two folding tables are pushed together, upon which dozens of electronic components are laid out along with soldering guns and circuit boards. A milk crate full of heat sinks stolen from old computers is stacked up next to thermal dampening materials and wire insulations. Kris is down here, holding a small device in one hand that he keeps teleporting from one hand to the next, watching as it grows hotter and hotter with each jump.

“How’s it working?” Risa asks, and Kris teleports the ceramic plated box into a plastic bucket of water, causing it to sizzle and boil. She glances down at it, then back again. “That good, huh?”

“I dunno how we’re going to do this,” Kris admits with a wave of one hand at what they’re assembling on the table. “The research lab has seven points we need to hit nearly simultaneously, and each time I teleport I build up too much heat. Izzy’s math says I can do five jumps before I set the fucking bomb off myself, and…” Kris scrubs a hand at his face, “we’ve gotta make it more heat proof.”

Her math. Whenever she heard that it still almost made her choke, HOW?? But it had turned out that she was a good student if she really worked at it and worked she did, she had a sense of purpose. Something for Izzy. At least that's what she told herself in order to avoid the real reason why she's here. Guilt. And the news of a prison holding SLC- Expressives gave her renewed confidence that she had chosen the right path. A weapons experiment by Pinehearst? Yea that had to go, more so because she had to do this to get to that prison.

That's the only motivate she needed. Ironically, herself. Her other self? Yea sister what the fuck ever. Her blood.

And as they enter the basement workroom to see Kris’ failure yet again Izzy scowls and looks at the bucket intensely. “Well that's not fucking good.” She could run numbers again but she was sure, as sure as she would ever be she guesses but Kaito knew what he was doing didn't he..? Crossing her arms she walks over to Kris and pats his shoulder in a show of support, it's not his fault his ability was too hot. Isa could sympathize with that.

“What if we.. got you closer somehow. Lessen the number of jumps..” that's still only five jumps for seven points of interest. Her brow furrows and she leans over to inspect the device in the bucket, “Find a terrakinetic to wrap it in brick.. or some shit.” Leaning back again she crosses her arms and Isa gives the other two a look with hazel eyes. “I..” she's stumped.

“Coat it too thick and we risk the detonation signal not getting through. Rely on a timer and there's a chance it won't blow at all.” Kris sidles up to a stool beside the table and sits down on it, hunching forward to look at the components laid out on the table. “I could maybe get closer, but the tower’s pretty tall and getting close risks my ass getting noticed.”

Risa raises a brow and tilts her head to the side. “Why isn't Hiro doing this?” She asks with a thoughtful glance to Isabelle and back to Kris. Slowly, Kris raises his hands in a shrug.

“Man, I don't know. He's leadership, you know? That's a big risk for someone who keeps us even kind of together to take. I mean,” Kris furrows his brows. “I don't wanna say we’re expendable but…” he shrugs again, picking up a soldering iron. “Some people are irreplaceable.”

“That's a good fucking question.” He could stop time, port in and port out before anyone even noticed. “I highly doubt they can hold… him of all people.” If there's one thing that Izzy hates it’s situations like this, throwing people to a task themselves when it's too dangerous. Wasn't that the point of this group? “We ask him to help then, nobody is replaceable.” The pyrokinetic really wants to believe that.

She would agree that Hiro is very important though, well this is a tough one. Swearing softly under her breath she folds her arms. “What the fuck do we do?” Eyebrows raising as Isa’s mind goes over the potential possibilities on just how they could pull this off.

“We do the job,” Risa says with a resigned shrug. “I can… get Kris inside without needing to teleport. Wherever we’re hitting has to have a security access, something keypad accessible. I can bring up a postcognitive vision and figure out the key sequence and unlock the door from the outside. That won’t buy a lot of time, but…”

Kris taps his chin, then looks across the assembly of pieces. For a moment he grows quiet, then turns his attention back to Isabelle. “What if we didn’t try to stop the heat at all…” he finally murmurs, having put aside thoughts about asking Hiro to perform a task like this. They’d asked Kris, and he trusts that there was a reason. “What if we make the bomb like… reactive to heat. So that until it reaches a certain external temperature it’s inert, right? Don’t worry about insulating the trigger, because it’ll be like a…” he snaps his fingers, trying to remember, “sorta’ like a chemical switch— a thermal switch!”

Coming to that conclusion has Isa looking away before she nods her head slowly, “Thermal switch…” and a dangerous grin plays across her lips. “I fucking like the sound of that. And you too Risa. Well then..” slapping her hands together with a trail of smoke rising from the seams. Another obstacle burnt away, this time with more help. It felt good to be apart of the team and the tiny flame that hovers in the palm of her hand as she holds it out flat is bright, much like her mood.

A thought and the flame becomes two and they grow slightly with each breath she takes, the flames reflect in her eyes and she extinguishes them before she's moving over to hover over the devices, eyes narrowed as she thinks of the necessary procedures, “Let's get the show on the fucking road.”

It sounded like they were going to get a little closer to the action then she originally thought she would.

That was something Isabelle didn't mind.

Lead me to your door…

Rochester Institute of Technology

Rochester, NY

November 17, 2014

3:22 pm

«…authorities are saying that the explosion may be the work of Humanis First. For those of you just joining us, what you’re seeing is Pinehearst Tower in Manhattan where what is believed to be a terrorist bombing has taken place.»

Dozens of students are gathered around a single television in the video editing room in RIT’s A/V Department. Word that an attack happened in New York was at first an exhilarating feeling for Isabelle, catching glimpses of headlines on cell phones while in her last class for the day. But standing in the video editing room’s doorway, watching news footage of what should have been Kris’ attack on a weapons development facility has her heart stilled.

They had been planning the operation for months, each Guardian operative compartmentalizing information about the target, no one knowing the full length and breadth of the plan. But now it all became crystal clear, that the attack was so secretive because it was so bold, that the attack was so bold because it struck at the heart of Pinehearst. But the price.

Kris hasn’t answered his phone.


Her world tilts and Izzy sways with the unexpected motion, reaching out to grab the back of a nearby chair to support herself. Winded. Kris and Magnes. Magnes. Kris. Fuck, “Fuck,” She whispers aloud and looks down at her phone. Dialing Magnes and getting the voicemail. Trying again. Once more and she lets out a frustrated growl and backs away from the TV. This was not how it was supposed to be. Kaito knew Magnes was going to be there.

But she helped. There was that guilt again, just like with Thali.. and her other self.. Why was she such a fuck up?

They hit the fucking center. How did they think Arthur wouldn't crush them after this? Isa could almost feel his mental eye on her and she shivers at a child that's not there. “No no no,” maybe Magnes didn't get hit in the blast. It's the only thing she can hope for. He’d be upset probably but he’d be alive. He saved her and she might have killed him. White smoke wafts up from the corners of her eyes and cheeks where tears fall. Hands go to take through brown hair and she puffs out her chest before deflating and hunching over into herself.

The guilt wasn't something she wants to harbor on just yet, the anger for her mentor and his son for keeping this from her… her eyes are blazing and the air around her kicks up a few notches but before much damage can be done she stills herself and Isa goes to that silent place within herself and takes deep breaths. The pyrokinetic needed answers.

Some of the students, no one that Isabelle knows, part for her to get a better look at the television. Some of them could feel the heat coming off of her, others weren’t sure where it came from, but it was gone almost as fast as it came back.

Magnes’ phone goes straight to voicemail, again. On the television, plumes of smoke billow out of the middle of Pinehearst Tower, flames and smoke. It’s been hours since the attack, hours since and not a word from Magnes. That is, until an unfamiliar voice calls out from the doorway.

Isa Parker?” There’s a police officer with raised brows and lips downturned to a frown, no gun drawn or stance at the ready. One of Isabelle’s professors stands nearby, an apologetic look on his face. “Would you mind… stepping out into the hall? I just need to have a word with you.” If they were here to arrest her, it wouldn’t be so polite.

This is something worse.

Knees buckle at the sight of the police officer and though her mind goes to how a full FRONTLINE team might be used to confront her that comfort is quickly dashed away as she thinks to what this might mean. Hazel eyes brim with tears that are making it hard to see but she's not going to cry more, she doesn't want too. Izzy inches forward, her mind whirling. The lights too bright, the voices too loud.

It's like tunnel vision as she finally sets herself in front of the police officer giving her professor a look but sniffing there's her gaze back on the man. “Yes?” Izzy practically leans forward, she has to know.

In her gut she already does.

The officer steps with Isabelle out into the hall, and he looks down briefly to his feet. “Your brother, Dean…” Of course, of all the things in this world that suddenly make sense, their assumed identities being brother and sister thread the needle in the here and now. “I’m sorry Miss Dean, but your brother is confirmed to be among the Pinehearst employees that were at ground zero when the explosion occurred…”

The words that come next are muted and muffled, dead things that fall from the office’s mouth and slap against her ears without meaning or purpose. There is no fire and rage in this revelation, in spite of the cruel injustice it represents. Instead, there is a cold emptiness, the absence of fire and the absence of anger. Where once there was flames, there was now just a lump of coal.

Magnes was dead.

A hand stops at her lips and her eyes are wide, stomach rolling as she slowly backs away. Her eyes are empty and her mouth drops open a little. Unsure of what to say Izzy nods her head and reaches for nothing. Her hand shakes and she turns to begin to walk away. The tears are falling down her face and her eyes close as she bumps into someone. “So— ” She chokes on a sob.

Body wrecked with guilt, a low moan escapes her as she sags but tries to continue forward anyway, she's gotta get to Elaine. Addie. “Oh god Addie.”

The officer comes to rest a hand on Isa’s shoulder, and the world melts away as anxiety sinks its talons into her heart. The knife of guilt can twist itself later, when all the questions have been asked to all of the absent faces that cannot answer. Because from this point forward, there is nothing to turn back to other than the road of her own choices.

As Isabelle sinks under the weight of her choices and their consequences, she will find no comfort from Risa Lynette, who disappears without a trace. Likewise Benjamin Washington — Knox — vanishing without word. Kris too, a ghost in more senses than one. The entire cell of the Guardians that Isa worked with dries up like a puddle in the summer sun, leaving her alone with her grief, and alone with her guilt.

Alone with memories of the choices she made…

…on a long and winding road.

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