Molly led us back through the Boardwalkâs interior at an unhurried pace, moving through the main stretch.
I fell into step beside her with Maribel on my other side, the two of them bookending me naturally without any particular discussion about it. Behind us, Cindy and Daisy had drifted into their own orbit â I could hear them talking, Cindy pointing things out, Daisy responding with quiet interest, occasionally surprised by something. First time through here for both of them, and the Boardwalk had a way of making an impression even now.
"You know," Molly said, her eyes forward, "when you walked out of here the first time, I already had a feeling weâd be seeing you again."
"That obvious?" I asked.
"You said what you said about leaving the city." She glanced at me sideways. "But the way you said it, there was no weight behind it. Like you were repeating a plan that had already quietly stopped being the plan."
"I suppose I wasnât very convincing about it," I admitted.
"No," she agreed, pleasantly. "And then Maribel came to us in person and told us what she knew. We were surprised but only a little. Some things you see coming even when you canât explain why."
"How many people know?" I asked.
Molly thought about it for a second, her lips pressing together lightly. "Marlon. Rico. Me." She tilted her head. "Maybe thatâs the full list actually."
"I noticed some faces when we came through the gate that werenât exactly thrilled to see us," I said, thinking of Flinn specifically, the way his expression had moved when heâd registered who we were.
"Everyoneâs on edge," Molly said. "They donât know you well enough to trust you, and the ones who are most scared are the ones whoâve been here the longest and remember what it was like before we got the barricades solid. The worry is that youâre connected to Callighan somehow. That youâre here to scout, or to build leverage, or to work some angle they canât see yet."
"Weâre not," I said immediately.
"I know you say that." She kept her voice easy, not dismissive but clear-eyed. "And I think you mean it. But saying it and proving it are two different things, and you canât shortcut that process for people whoâve lost what theyâve lost." She glanced at me again. "If you asked the most skeptical people here whether theyâd rather have your group as a neighbor or have nobody at all, theyâd say nobody. Every time. Not because of anything specific youâve done. Just because the calculation feels safer."
"I understand that," I said quietly.
And I did. It was the same calculation weâd been running on our side for months, every new face evaluated not on its own merits but against the backdrop of everything that had already gone wrong. Trust was a resource that got spent faster than it was earned in this world.
"There was a lot of movement near your buildings yesterday," Molly said, shifting topic without making it feel like a shift. "Your people settling in fully, Iâd imagine."
"Yeah," I said.
"Well." She gave a small nod. "You did the right thing coming here yourself instead of waiting for us to come to you. Draws a cleaner line."
"I didnât only come to talk about us settling in next door," I said. "Thereâs something else."
Molly raised her eyebrows slightly but didnât push. The smile that crossed her face was the specific kind that meant she was interested and was content to wait for the right moment to hear it, probably when we reached Marlon and she wouldnât have to listen to it twice.
"Does the idea of us being neighbors bother you?" I asked her. "Personally."
"Not particularly," she said, honestly. "But donât mistake that for full trust. I think youâre sincere. I also think you have a strange pull to trust you in a way youâre not entirely conscious of, and Iâve lived long enough to know that sincere and charming together is a combination worth watching carefully." She let that land for a second. "Unlike some people..."
"Stop," Maribel said, without looking at her.
"Iâm just noting," Molly said warmly, "that you went to bat for him and his group quite thoroughly when you came to speak to us."
"He saved Shannonâs life," Maribel said. "He saved mine too. What was I supposed to do, say nothing?"
"No," Molly allowed. "I suppose not."
She glanced back over her shoulder at Cindy and Daisy, who were still absorbed in their own conversation a few steps behind, Cindy explaining something about one of the buildings with animated hands.
"You two lovely girls donât look like youâre here to cause trouble," Molly said to them, raising her voice slightly. "But I canât say the same for a whole group Iâve barely met."
"There are idiots in every group," Cindy replied without missing a beat, looking up from whatever sheâd been pointing at. "Iâd be shocked if yours didnât have a few."
Maribel made a sound that might have been an almost-laugh. "Sheâs not wrong."
She said it with enough weight behind it that it was clearly pointed at something specific, but she didnât elaborate and nobody pushed her on it.
It didnât take long before the Brighton Park opened up ahead of us.
I recognized it immediatel, the same open space, the same fountain at the center, the same quality of light that came through the gaps in the surrounding buildings and made the whole area feel slightly separate from the rest of the Boardwalk. Last time Iâd been here the place had been fuller, more tense, people positioned at careful distances.
Now it was quieter. A handful of people at the edges, nobody pressing in. Either Marlon had specifically asked for that or word had gotten around that this wasnât a public event.
Marlon himself was at the same table in front of the fountain.
But he wasnât waiting for us.
He was sitting slightly sideways, a knife in his hand, but he wasnât using it on anything threatening, a fish, partially cleaned, on a board in front of him. He was watching the person beside him work, pointing occasionally at something with the tip of his finger, and his expression was doing something I hadnât seen it do before. Something relaxed. Open.
Very different from the stern one he had kept the last time I saw him.
The person beside him was...Summer.
Her dirty blonde hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. She was wearing a plastic apron with old bloodstains along the front and working through the fish with a knife of her own, moving with a clean movements. She was talking as she worked, and whatever she was saying had the light easy quality of someone comfortable enough in a conversation to not be performing it, and Marlon was listening with his full attention and that expression I still couldnât quite categorize on him.
I found myself staring slightly longer than I should have, just trying to reconcile the two images.
"Marlon. Theyâre here."
It was Ricoâs voice.
He was standing off to the right like heâd been planted there, arms crossed and sharp and suspicious eyes on me.
Marlon lifted his eyes slowly from the table.
The moment they found me, the soft unguarded expression heâd been wearing bled away, not hostile, not cold exactly, just returning to the composed and carefully neutral face I remembered from our first meeting.
Summer followed his gaze a half second later, turning from her fish to see what had pulled his attention. When she landed on me her eyes went wide, with genuine surprise.
She clearly hadnât known I was coming. Honestly, I hadnât planned to come this soon either. When Iâd spoken to her and asked her to stay quiet about us settling in the area, Iâd intended to give things more time to breathe first. But that was before Mei. Before everything shifted overnight into something that couldnât wait for a comfortable moment.
Marlon wiped his hands on a towel, slow and unhurried, and walked toward us. The knife stayed on the table.
"You came back," he said. His eyes moved past me to Cindy and Daisy. "Not alone either."
"I came to talk," I said. "Privately if thatâs possible."
Marlon looked around the park briefly, the handful of people at the edges, Rico, Summer, Molly, Maribel and then back at me. "This is private enough. So talk. Tell me why you changed your mind. You stood there and made it very clear you wanted nothing to do with whatâs happening in this city. Now your whole group has settled themselves right next to us. Thatâs quite a shift."
"Have you never changed your mind about something?" I asked. "Things happen. Plans stop making sense. You adjust."
"Cut the crap," Rico said, stepping forward from where heâd been standing. "You said you were leaving. Simple. Clean. So what happened? Did Callighan get to you first? Make you some kind of offer?" His eyes had narrowed down to something close to an accusation. "Because that would explain a lot about why youâre suddenly planted right on our doorstep."
"No deal with Callighan," I said, looking at him steadily. "Iâm here because Iâve decided to fight him."
The silence that dropped over the park was quick and shocked.
Molly went still. Maribel turned toward me with her mouth slightly open. Even Summer had stopped what she was doing, the knife resting forgotten against the board, her eyes fixed on me.
Marlon said nothing. He just looked at me with an expression that was doing careful, quiet work behind its surface.
"Iâm not leaving this city until Callighan is dealt with," I continued, keeping my voice even and direct. "My people are settled here now and theyâre staying. That man is a threat to everyone living in Atlantic City, your community included, and mine. So Iâm here to offer you an alliance. A real one. We work together, we take him down properly, and this city stops being something everyone has to survive rather than live in."
Marlon took one slow step closer. "Your whole group agreed to fight?"
"Not my whole group," I said. "Thatâs not what Iâm offering. Iâm not putting sixty civilians into a war they didnât sign up for." I held his gaze. "A few of us, the ones who can actually fight, the ones who have the ability to make a real difference, we put ourselves alongside your people. You have everything to gain and nothing to lose. Iâm asking for nothing except that we fight the same enemy in the same direction."
The silence stretched again.
Rico made a sound low in his throat and walked forward until he was close enough that keeping my eyes front meant looking directly at him.
"Thatâs enough," he said, shaking his head and his expression twisted into annoyance. "Weâve heard enough. Take your group and leave the city before you get everyone around you killed. Thatâs the smart play. Thatâs the only play."
"We cleared the area weâre in," I said, shifting my gaze to him without giving any ground. "With our own hands and our own blood. You donât own this city. You donât get to tell us to leave it."
"What did you just say youâ!""
Marlonâs hand came up, sharp and clean, and Rico stopped immediately, mouth still open, jaw tight, but stopped.
Marlon looked at me.
"Youâre not wrong that we want Callighan gone," he said quietly. "Everyone here wants that. But wanting it and doing it are two very different things. I wonât send my people into a fight we canât win just because someone I barely know showed up and told me heâs ready to help." He paused. "I wonât spend my peopleâs lives on a losing war."
"Is it the numbers that make it unwinnable?" I asked. "Or is it human shaped monster, Gaspar?"
Something moved in Marlonâs expression at the name. His eyes widened slightly hearing my last words.
That told me everything I needed to confirm.
"If itâs Gaspar youâre worried about," I said, letting a small smile settle, "then thatâs exactly why you should take my hand. Because heâs the one problem in this equation that your people alone cannot solve." I held his gaze. "I can."
Rico made a sharp sound and stepped forward again, talking to Marlin whispering if you could call it like that.
"Marlon. For fuckâs sake. Heâs a teenager. Youâre really going to stand here and listen to this?" He turned back toward the group with his hands out. "A teenager is going to walk in here and tell us how to handle a man whoâs been running this city for months with an army behind him? Come on."
The vein in my forehead made its feelings known.
I took a breath.
"Alright."
Let it out slowly.
Then I stepped back from them, putting a few feet of clear space between me and everyone else.
Every head turned.
Rico and Marlon both looked at me.
"You," I said, pointing directly at Rico. "Fight me."