Ah, these old people really have nothing better to do.
I'm sitting in this so-called family meeting, staring at a circle of elders who've spent the last hour arguing about "snakes."
Not real snakes—though that would have been more entertaining—but the metaphorical ones. Traitors. Whispered threats. Paranoia.
The usual.
After all the shouting and dramatic spitting in the air, they finally turn toward me.
"Raven, you are going to lead this system. Why are you not saying anything about the situation?"
The tone isn't respectful. It's doubtful. Testing me.
Ah yes—the system.
Our family business. A well-oiled, carefully structured mechanism that works almost like a decentralised model:
different branches handling different responsibilities, all feeding into the same core.
Organised. Efficient. Accessible… though not to everyone.
Only those who can pay for its services—and accept the consequences that follow.
Let's just say it's about eighty percent legal.
The remaining twenty percent is… a creative interpretation of the law.
I lean back in my chair.
"What's there to talk about? It's simple. There is a mole in our system."
Silence drops like a stone.
Every pair of eyes snaps toward me.
"How can you say that with such certainty?" one elder asks, clearly expecting me to fumble.
I can see the doubt written across their faces.
They think I'm babbling nonsense.
They think they still have a chance to challenge my position.
They dream too much.
I scoff lightly, letting them know exactly how stupid their thoughts look from where I'm sitting.
"Because whoever is doing this knows the timing and the locations too precisely. Their interference is perfect. Flawless."
I meet each of their gazes. "That doesn't happen without someone feeding them information."
The silence that follows is the first intelligent thing they've produced all evening.
The meeting dissolves soon after—with my final words hanging in the room like a warning:
There is a mole.
And it needs to be removed before it corrodes the system.
Finally.
I can get out of here.
I can see my Chibi.
Talk to her.
Maybe even get ice cream if she's in a good mood.
Just as her face flashes in my mind, a very annoying voice pierces my thoughts.
"Thinking about darling Lara, brother?"
Zack.
Of course.
He's standing there with that same irritating grin, the kind that makes me want to wipe it off his face with a chair.
He dared to say her name.
"DON'T."
My voice drops, sharp as a blade.
"Don't say her name."