"Did Abel go to take a bath?" Theresa asked, already moving toward her bedroom. "Then I should go wash up and change clothes. Sharon, sit here for a while. I'll take a bath and change."
"Of course, cousin. Go ahead," Sharon replied with a warm smile.
Theresa disappeared into her bedroom, following Abel who headed toward the main bathroom. For a brief window of time—maybe fifteen, maybe twenty minutes—no one would be watching the apartment except Sharon.
Sharon took a deep breath and assessed the situation. She'd spent the past few months learning the layout of this apartment. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms. Theresa's main bedroom had its own en-suite. There was a larger shared bathroom for the rest of the house. Abel was currently in the big bathroom. Theresa was in her own private one.
Which meant the apartment was momentarily free for movement. No one could see what she did. No one would know if she looked.
This is a great opportunity.
The thought came unbidden, and Sharon found herself standing before she'd even consciously decided to move. She was an operative, trained to act on opportunities. When she thought of searching Abel's room, her body had already begun moving toward his door.
The door wasn't fully closed—just concealed. Sharon looked around carefully, saw no abnormalities, then slowly opened it and stepped inside.
Abel's room was impressively neat and tidy. Everything in its place. Cold, plain, elegant in its simplicity. Nothing like what she would expect from a teenage boy. In comparison, Theresa's room decoration was warm and colorful—exactly what you'd expect from a lively, creative woman. But Abel's room felt like the space of someone much older. Someone prudent. Someone careful.
It gave her an uneasy feeling.
Sharon walked to the bookshelf and examined the titles. Textbooks. Literature. Some mystical philosophy texts. Nothing unusual. Nothing that would suggest... anything. She turned toward the desk where Abel had left his notes and manuscripts. Here, she thought. If there's evidence, it will be here.
She took a step forward. Then another. But as her hand began to reach for the papers on the desk, Sharon stopped.
She stood there, suspended in the moment, hand raised but not quite reaching. In front of her lay the documents that could answer her question. All she had to do was look.
But if she did, everything would change.
Sharon lowered her hand slowly.
She'd known Theresa for months now, and her aunt had spoken of Theresa with genuine warmth. Coming to stay with her had felt like visiting family. And Theresa... Theresa treated her like a sister. Sharon could feel the sincerity in that regard. It wasn't performative. It wasn't an operation. It was real affection.
If Sharon violated that trust, if she searched this room and later Theresa found out—and eventually, she would find out—that bond would be shattered. Theresa would never forgive her. Sharon would never forgive herself.
But there was another layer to this moral problem. Sharon had been investigating the person who'd killed Kilgrave, the mysterious magic user who'd appeared at the Iron Man battle. If that person was dangerous, if they'd actually done something harmful to society, then Sharon had a duty to expose them. No personal feelings could outweigh that.
Yet from what she knew, this person had only ever acted heroically. They'd stopped a supervillain. They'd assisted Tony Stark. There was no evidence of malice, no evidence of harm. Just... power. Unexplained power.
And if Abel really was that person—and Sharon still wasn't certain—he hadn't shown any sign of being dangerous. He was a teenager, brilliant, careful, but ultimately just trying to live his life.
Sharon thought of her aunt Peggy Carter, founder of SHIELD, a woman who had always believed that doing the right thing sometimes meant operating outside official channels. Peggy had taught her that being an agent wasn't just about following orders. Sometimes it was about following your conscience.
If this person was truly a threat, Sharon would expose them. But if they weren't? If they were simply someone with abilities they chose to keep secret? Then perhaps Sharon had a responsibility to protect that secret. To protect Abel. To protect Theresa's relationship with her cousin.
Sharon took a breath and turned away from the desk.
She left the room quietly, closed the door, and settled onto the soft fabric sofa in the living room. She turned on the television, finding some mindless drama to occupy her attention. The anxious feeling in her chest began to ease. She'd made her choice, and somehow it felt like the right one.
Her phone buzzed.
Sharon pulled it out and saw a message from Coulson: [Did you get the chance to investigate?]
She hesitated for only a moment before typing her response: [Nothing unusual.]
After she sent the message, she put her phone away and looked back at the television screen, a small smile playing at her lips.
Sharon knew herself well enough to understand that she wasn't the agent SHIELD wanted her to be. She wasn't operating from pure duty or protocol. In truth, she was thinking more like a hero than like a spy. An agent asked: Can I complete this mission? A hero asked: Is this the right thing to do?
She thought of Captain America, of the ideals he represented. If she ever discovered that the Captain was genuinely dangerous, that he posed a real threat, she would stop him—no matter her personal feelings. But if he was simply choosing to stand against what he believed was wrong? Then she would stand with him, even if it meant defying orders.
Perhaps that same logic applied here.
In the bathroom, Abel was not actually taking a shower.
He sat on the bathroom's edge, the shower nozzle running behind him to provide cover noise. His eyes were fixed on the mirror, and in its reflective surface, he could see something beyond the normal reflection.
Using magic, Abel had constructed a scrying link to his bedroom mirror. It was a delicate spell, one that required constant concentration but didn't drain power quickly. Through it, he'd watched everything. He'd seen Sharon enter his room. He'd seen her approach his desk. He'd seen her raise her hand to look at his notes.
And then he'd watched her hesitate. Watched her lower her hand. Watched her turn and leave.
Abel's initial plan had been simple: if Sharon discovered his identity, he would use Obliviate to erase her memories of the investigation. Then he would craft an elaborate false memory—an illusion that would make her doubt her own suspicions. Clean. Effective. Safe.
But Sharon hadn't actually discovered anything. She'd chosen not to look.
Abel considered the implications. Sharon must have had reasons. Good reasons, strong enough to overcome her operational instincts. And the fact that she'd lied to Coulson about finding nothing—that was significant too. It meant she was protecting him, at least for now.
He terminated the scrying spell and finally began to actually shower, a small smile on his face. This outcome was actually better than his original plan. Sharon as an adversary would be manageable. But Sharon as a potential ally? That was far more valuable.
The result wasn't bad at all.
Saturday and Sunday passed without incident. Sharon stayed as a weekend guest, and Abel maintained his normal routine. Nothing unusual, nothing that would trigger suspicion.
On Monday morning, as they were both leaving the apartment, Sharon and Abel said a polite goodbye. They walked in opposite directions—Abel toward school, Sharon toward the university building where she was supposedly handling campus matters.
Abel's mind was working through the revelations of the previous night. Sharon had chosen to protect him, or at least chosen not to expose him. But why? What was her reasoning? And more importantly—who exactly was Sharon Carter?
The name alone was a clue. Carter was not a common surname. And as Abel's retrieved information from his previous life, it connected the dots: Peggy Carter, founder of SHIELD. Captain America's companion. One of the most important figures in the shadow history of government operations.
Sharon Carter. Not just any SHIELD agent. A direct relative of the founder herself.
That meant Sharon had access, authority, and most critically—she had her own judgment about what was right and wrong. She had her own moral code, shaped by family legacy and personal conviction.
It meant she was far more dangerous as an adversary, but also far more valuable as a potential ally.
No matter how slow he was being, Abel finally understood who Sharon really was. And that understanding changed everything about his strategy moving forward.
He walked toward school, already recalculating his plans.
END CHAPTER 25