"He took a plea bargain," Voltaire hisses at Niel. Both of them are in Voltaire's room this afternoon, the ex-thief needing to vent his frustrations to someone upon learning this new development.

  "Well, at least he's not getting away unpunished," Niel responds, looking for silver linings,

  "Yeah, but what's he gonna get punished with? Charges are getting dropped; he might not see a day in jail, let alone prison!"

  "Might—we don't know yet," Niel says, trying to pull Voltaire back over to the side of reason before his temper flares any further. "So, what's next for him? Do you know his trial date?"

  Voltaire sighs with myriad annoyances. "Not tomorrow, but next Thursday."

  That would be the 13th.

  "And it's not really a trial, just a plea hearing where the judge will find him guilty by default. We don't know when he'll be sentenced yet," Voltaire continues. "Oh, but I do know this: because of his plea bargain, he'll be testifying against my parents."

  Now this is a surprise for Niel. "Oh! That's really not good for your parents, then."

  "Yeah, there's no way they're not being found guilty," Voltaire says, both believing his own word while also trying to convince himself of its validity. He wants to believe—and he partially does—but the doubt still holds. "I just wish it didn't come as a lighter sentence for him..."

  While the days are long and snow-filled (primarily from Illia trekking it inside), the 13th eventually dawns on the home and the courtroom. Waking up this morning, Niel expects Voltaire to skip school to spectate the hearing, but to his surprise, the ex-thief opted not to go. Voltaire explains his presence there doesn't matter, so he won't bother wasting his time. He also won't be attending the sentencing, either, citing the same reason. Niel can tell Voltaire is trying to mimic his stoicism, but the pain behind his eyes is still plainly visible. So, in other words, he's doing a good job copying.

  Voltaire's brother is predictably found guilty. Sentencing is scheduled for the fourth of March.

  The following day is one Niel wasn't expecting nor does he know much about: Valentine's. Apart from the religious origins and significance he understands little of, it's a day of romantic love. So, it's a holiday he understands little of. The lab never taught him romanticisms as it was considered a detrimental and compromising emotion for his missions. Being a homme fatale wasn't of particular use for him, either; not only is he a child, but he's a gun, not a spy. Platonic and familial love he believes he understands to some extent after being in the home for nearly a year, but not romantic. Thus, the day feels like any other to him, and the schoolwork gets done all the same.

  With classes done for the day and the extended weekend soon to be upon them, Niel organizes his classwork and stands to stretch his legs and back. Illia, watching him with intent, decides to copy him bend for bend. This obviously doesn't go unnoticed.

  "Having fun?" Niel questions, amused by her antics. She nods with a smirk in response, her eyes slightly and cutely enlarged by the lens of her glasses.

  With the bit over, Niel stows the small stack of papers with the rest of his prior schoolwork as Illia does the same, but when he moves to head to his room, Illia stops him by tugging on his shirt.

  'Can you come to the forest with me?' she signs. The wording immediately sticks out to him—normally she asks him if he wants to go or cares to join her, but now she's directly requesting him. With nothing better to do, how can he say no?

  The winter air is crisp and stagnant in these last two hours of daylight. It's a bit late for them to be leaving, but if anyone is to be trusted safe after dark, it's Niel. Perhaps this is why Illia wanted him to join her. Once they reach the treeline, Illia is vindicated for suggesting wearing their snow pants: the depth is well over the tops of their boots. Niel shakes his head and sighs at Illia's 'I told you so' expression, and they begin the trek through the white forest floor.

  It takes long, clambering strides to make it through to the glade, but upon reaching the clearing, Illia is immediately glad they came here. It's beautiful. Though most of it is covered in late-day shadow, the smooth, untouched surface of crystalline powder sparkles in the sunlight that does reach. With no wind to shift the branches, long-dormant icicles still decorate the surrounding trees like a wall of glistening ornaments. Everything is captured in an ice-like stillness. The city can't be heard from here.

  It's this timelessness that made Illia so fond of this place.

  Despite this picturesque snow scape, Illia decides she still wants to play on the swing, and she trudges through the snow to dig it out. It doesn't take long until they've cleared enough away to take turns on it. While swinging is fun on its own, they end up finding more fun leaping off it into the snow. Niel doesn't trust the depth or density, so he opts to land on his feet. Illia, however, gets bored with this and decides to try landing on her butt instead. The snow is thankfully just dense enough to catch her before her tailbone strikes hard against the frozen ground underneath.

  "You probably shouldn't do that. You could've gotten hurt if the snow was any lighter, or if there was anything under it," Niel warns.

  Illia pouts at him being a buzzkill. She exhales through her gloves in preparation to take them off, then signs, 'I know you'll take care of me if I get hurt.'

  Niel sighs at this. "That's not the point..."

  Suddenly, he's struck in the chest by a wad of snow, and the evidence of the source lies in the pink mitten of the mischievously grinning Illia. The snow is too light to roll into a ball, but it can be packed together with enough force.

  "Oh, is that what you want to do?" Niel exclaims with a fervent grin of his own as he crushes a snowball together.

  The silence of the glade is truly broken as a snowball fight breaks out between the pair. Suboptimal snowball material limits their rate of fire, but Illia makes up for this by being surprisingly accurate with her throws, even more so than Niel. However, her triumphant squeaks turn to fear as Niel decides to use his Dust to kick off a snow-dustrial revolution, optimizing snowball production to hammer her with an inhuman volume of projectiles. He also cheats by using a shield of Dust, the scoundrel. Illia's only recourse is to lob double-handfuls of powder in his general direction in an attempt to keep up with him. She tries to put her hood up and approach with her back to him, but he counters this by wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up. Her squeals and flailing end up tipping his balance and taking them both laughing to the ground. Now that the fighting has ceased, Illia takes a breath through the cheer and exhales through her mittens so she can take them off without her fingers freezing. It's a gentle visage she carries in Niel's eye.

  'Happy Valentine's Day.'

  Niel understands little of the holiday, and of romantic love. Perhaps it isn't romantic, but the warmth he feels from her is a step towards understanding today's meaning. Hers was a heartfelt message, and so will his.

  "Happy Valentine's Day."

  >>>>>>

  With no school the following Monday due to Family Day, Reed expects another lazy day where he gets to sleep in and play games all day, just like yesterday and the day before. However, Lydia forcefully knocking and calling through his door startles him awake from his noontime napping.

  "Reed!" Lydia calls through the wood, "Get up and get dressed! We're going out with Clara soon!"

  "Huh?" Reed groans foggily, garnering no further attention with Lydia having walked off. Left wanting on information, Reed rolls himself out of bed and into fresh clothes before heading downstairs.

  "Well, good morning, Reed!" Clara greets from the living room. Among her are Poppy, his guardians, and the other children of the home—the latter having eaten breakfast already. Poppy stands and moves to the kitchen so she and Reed can make his breakfast together.

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  "Morning," Reed responds. "So, uh, what are we doing today?"

  "Sledding," Niel answers, his speed beating out Clara, Mabel, and Lydia's responses.

  Mabel and Gabriel were brainstorming ideas on what to do with the kids for Family Day, but when Clara learned of Illia and Niel playing in the snow recently, a decision was made rather quickly. With some old sleds from the back shed and a new one bought, they all make the trip to a popular hill just outside the city.

  The sun shining down brings a slight warmth to the otherwise cold day, making the snow wetter and sticky. How this will affect their speeding experience, Niel is unsure, but Illia is keen to resume their snowball fight now that he can no longer cheat. Lydia and Mabel both foresee extended use of the former's Mute to dry everything out when they return home.

  Despite wanting to be here the least, Reed is the first to grab a sled and get a running start down the hill, with Niel and Voltaire second after him. Lydia and Illia instead take their time. Though it takes some convincing (and pushing), they all even convince Mabel and Gabriel to have a sled-bound excursion together. As they're not the only ones on the hill today, they all need to be weary of running into other people at the bottom. Voltaire, not watching where he's going, nearly does just this. He apologizes and excuses himself from the lone sledder he almost walked into, causing Niel to feel a surge of pride at how far his manners have developed.

  Later on in their time at the hill, a small commotion draws Lydia's attention: a squabble between two children much younger than her over a one-person sled, with one trying to steal it away from the other. A sense of duty lightly sparks in her core, and with seemingly no parents around to defuse the situation, she decides to intervene. At the top of the hill, Reed is waiting for her to return with the sled so he can have his turn. But why is it taking her so long? Setting his gaze and scanning the bottom, he finds her with two kids, and he trades one question for another. What is she doing? Niel and Illia arrive from climbing the hill, so he hitches a ride with Niel back down again.

  "What are you doing?" Reed asks Lydia just as the two younger children depart to climb the slope, both holding onto their sled's rope together.

  "They were fighting over the sled; one wanted to take it from the other," she explains as she watches them ascend.

  "Why?" Reed's question is as blunt as his patience is thin, or as much as his hands are empty (of a sled he's been waiting five minutes for).

  "Because I like working with kids. And, this might be a shock to you with my family's history: I don't like stealing." The sharpness of her tongue on that last line catches Niel with a stray lash, something she realizes when his eyes droop just enough to notice.

  "Hey, your situation was beyond different. Voltaire's too, to an extent," Lydia clarifies, though she's still no fan of the latter's stealing from them in the home, or his past violence doing so.

  Niel gives a low, guilt-laden grunt in acknowledgement, though not in belief of him deserving to be an exception.

  "I didn't know you were good with kids," Niel adds, referring to how distant she was during their encounter with Callum and Alanna. On second thought, that could've just been due to how strange and sudden that was to her.

  "Well, I like to think I'm good with kids. I know I enjoy it. If I can't become a model, then I'll probably try to be a preschool teacher instead."

  "You'll have to learn how to do things in a timely manner, first," Reed quips as he motions to the sled still in her possession and not his.

  "And you'll have to learn patience to deal with patients, Mr. Nurse," Lydia jabs back as she leaves the two boys and pulls the sled with her up the hill.

  "Hey, you said you didn't like stealing!"

  "This isn't stealing, it's a lesson for you: good behaviour gets rewarded, and bad behaviour gets punished. You should've been a good little boy and waited patiently!"

  "You're the one that took forever!"

  Upon Lydia playfully sticking her tongue out at him, Reed decides to get back at her by jumping into the sled, nearly pulling it free from just his weight and preventing her from going any further up the slope. Niel shakes his head in amusement and takes his own sled past their squabbling; Illia is waiting patiently for him at the top.

  >>>>>>

  After supper the next Monday, everyone has gathered in the living room to drink hot chocolate and converse over what's currently being shown on TV. While Illia has taken her usual place next to Niel, Voltaire has decided to additionally take up his other available flank. He's been getting more anxious by the day. The closer it gets to his brother's sentencing, the higher the likelihood of his parents' trial date being set and announced. Thus, the ex-thief has been gradually placing himself closer to Niel more often seeking emotional support. This time of house-wide socialization has given him some respite, thankfully, as this anticipation has been temporarily put on hold in favour of familial distractions.

  Though, 'temporarily' is the key word here. His phone buzzes with an incoming call from Dwayne, and he steps away to the kitchen alone to answer it. Once the information has been passed on, the call is hung up, and Voltaire returns to the living room looking no happier than when he left it.

  "My parents' trial is happening on the 17th of next month," Voltaire reports, his voice benign of emotion.

  "That's..." Niel begins as he reaches for his phone.

  Voltaire cuts him off. "Exactly three weeks from now."

  Sure enough, he's right—and down to the day as well. Everyone shifts in some manner or another at the prospect of this news.

  "And when's your brothers' sentencing again?" Reed asks.

  "In eight days," Niel answers for Voltaire.

  "I'm sure everything will work out," Mabel reassures. "No matter what, as long as you say that you don't want to go, I don't think you'll be taken away from here."

  Mabel's warmth thaws Voltaire's frown into the smallest of smiles. She's been getting better at picking the right words to comfort him.

  "...Yeah."

  The days seem to get easier for Voltaire after this. While his anxiety for the trial remains, its impact is cushioned by Mabel's motherly reassurance, something the boy had been missing for most of his life. Maybe he can face the centrepiece of his young life's torment. But first, a bump in the road needs to be driven over. March 4th has come at last.

  Keeping to his word, Voltaire doesn't attend the sentencing. It's a waste of time to give his old family any more attention past the required minimum, and his presence will change nothing about today. Instead, he hangs around with Niel and his new, better family. He even makes strides with Illia today, with her allowing him to borrow one of her toys, as opposed to him just stealing it outright like he used to do. At times, he even manages to forget about what made today so heavy for him in the first place. All in all, today was a good day... until he gets a call from Dwayne.

  "What was the verdict?" Niel asks, surrounded by the rest of their family in the living room. They've all been waiting patiently for this.

  "Six months in jail and two years of probation," Voltaire announces.

  "That's it!?" Reed exclaims.

  "That's it. He hurt me and helped cover everything up, and this is all he gets."

  "It was a plea bargain, that's why," Gabriel groans, unsatisfied with this streamlined leniency. Causing hell for a child is worth only six months if you strike a deal, apparently.

  "Well, you said before he had sponsors or scholarships, right?" Lydia questions, and Voltaire's eyes light up in realization. "He'll probably lose those now."

  "Yeah! And his university might kick him out, too!" Voltaire adds with excitement.

  "And it'll be harder for him to find a job afterward," Gabriel adds further.

  "Seems like this will only be the beginning of his troubles," Mabel says.

  Niel is happy that Voltaire seems at least somewhat content with this outcome, but he's afraid to join the round of condemnation. Guilt can be a two-way street, and he doesn't like how his reflection looks at him in the mirror. A finger pointed out is another pointed back at him. He can only hope the mirror image doesn't grab himself by the throat when Voltaire's parents are given their sentences.

  >>>>>>

  As the snow begins to melt away with the spring equinox approaching fast, Illia hears the glade calling to her for one last frozen play date. Valentine's Day was so much fun. Maybe Niel can join her again? She asks and, unfortunately, he declines as Judo was extra taxing on him this week. It's a shame, but Illia understands. She'll find something else they can do together when she returns. Expecting deep snow like last time, she bundles up warm and heads out on her own.

  Once she arrives at the forest's edge, she realizes that wearing her snow pants was a wasted effort—the snow doesn't even reach halfway up her boots. Not that it would anyway, as it's crusted over with ice, too. In the glade, the craters in the snow they made have been partially filled in and frozen over, the remaining snow is dirty and no longer glitters, and the ice that hung from the branches have all fallen off not long ago. Nothing looks the same as before. Depressed with the state of her sanctuary, she solemnly places herself on the swing. Her ruminations are escalating again. She doesn't like how things are changing again.

  Medova would tell her to think of the new opportunities that come about in the spring. The warmer air, the budding flowers, Illia tries to focus her mind on these. Wandering through the forest again, using those old stone ruins of homesteads more than ten times her age as waystones. The warm winter last year causing these old trees around her to bloom early. Collecting those pretty petals and adorning her hair with them again. Watching those blooms turn to fruit. These memories guide her thoughts now, as they did a year ago.

  And then she found Niel.

  Dirty and unkept, defensive and scared. Collapsed against the ruins of what once was. He bounded from city to city, just as she bounced between facilities. She used to be scared of him, once upon a time. That glare in his eye and the darkness he manipulated. And something more. But now, he's grown tame. Reliable. Caring. She used to be scared of Niel. Now she can't imagine what the home would be like without him. That lab is still out there, looking. Should they find him, what will happen to him? What will happen to them all? A small section of the leftover rope they used to tie this swing is visible from underneath the snow and ice.

  He'll take care of her, won't he?