――

With every word, Isla threw herself against Ace. Her small fists battering against her, her face streaked with the smear of her tears.

"How could you?"

"I am sorry," Ace said tightly, letting Isla shove against her without moving. "I―I am truly sorry."

"My mom is dead." Isla's chest was heaving, her bright black eyes shiny with tears. Her little hands knocked against Ace's shoulders. "My mom is dead!"

Isla would grow up without a mother. Without Mavis.

Ace had not cried since she was eighteen, but something cracked in her now. For the past two days, she had been frozen with grief. A storm, unraveling her from within. On the outside, she had been ice. Impenetrable. But now, with Isla in her arms, knowing that this beautiful, funny, intelligent girl would no longer have Mavis in her life, would never see her again . . . something in Ace broke again.

Into a thousand pieces.

A tear slid down her cheek. "I'm sorry," Ace breathed. "I am so―so sorry."

"You promised me!" Isla screamed. "You promised me! You promised me! You promised!"

"I know," Ace whispered, and she would never forgive herself. She knelt onto the ground, and Isla hurtled towards her, still aiming at her with fierce punches. Instead of resisting, Ace clutched her tightly.

"My mom," Isla sobbed. "Mommy. Mommy."

Ace held her, throughout the whirlwind of her tiny strikes. And when Isla relaxed finally, when she became limp and trembling, Ace said, "I know. I know."

"You promised," Isla mumbled.

"I―I loved her, too," Ace said. "I wish she was not gone, but it is . . . it is you and me, little ninja."

"You and me?"

"Yes," Ace whispered.

"How . . . how did it happen?"

Ace thought of the trickle of blood on Mavis's forehead. The bullet embedded there. She thought of how Mavis's body had slumped to the ground, and Ace had turned around, struck with that devastating realization.

Aleksi's mouth had been full of blood. He was laughing.

She had stepped on his face. She heard his teeth crack. And his neck, when it broke, was the second most glorious sound she had ever heard.

"She died in my arms," Ace whispered.

Tell Isla I . . .

Mavis had never finished.

"She wanted me to tell you that she loved you," Ace said quietly. "Those were her last words. She loved you, more than anything in the world. She wanted you to know."

Isla's body shook in her arms. Ace smoothed her soft hair, easing into the hug. She had never been comfortable with touch, but this . . . this was different. Isla needed her, and Ace―Ace needed Isla.

"We will get through this together," Ace said.

"You didn't keep your promise last time," said Isla in a tough, shaking voice.

Ace drew back, a hand on each of Isla's shoulder. Tilting her head down so she could meet Isla's dimmed eyes.

"Isla Inej Griffon," she said solemnly, "I promise I will never leave your side. I will never abandon you. I will have your back your whole life."

"You won't . . . you won't leave?"

"No," Ace said. "I will never leave you."

the day they buried Mavis.

The sky outside blazed with silver. Smoke rose in the distance like tendrils of soft lightning, bright against the darkening horizon. Beside her, Isla wept.

Ace could barely see the priest. Could barely think beyond that last moment.

Mavis's body had been enveloped in her arms, and she had been safe―Aleksi was supposed to be dead. Aleksi was supposed to be dead.

Ace's last words to her had been―

"Will you marry me?"

They were already wives, but . . .

Ace had wanted it to be real. A marriage, not because they were forced into it―but because they had chosen it. She had thought about asking Mavis that question a million times. Had lain in bed, with Mavis breathing softly next to her, and imagined herself whispering it. Will you marry me? Will you marry me? Will you marry me?

Impractical. Marriage was impractical.

Marriage was weakness.

Love, doch', is not real, her mother had said. It is conquer, or be conquered.

But Mavis had taken her heart. She had not asked for permission. She had pried it out with her bare hands, and she had held it tenderly. I love you, she had said.

Ace would never be able to tell her again.

She had not been ready.

When Aleksi had rasped out a laugh, when Mavis had slipped through her grasp like deadweight, something inside of Ace had . . . broken.

She had not thought it was possible.

That feeling―when Mavis's body had jerked against her chest. She had never imagined she had more to lose than her own life. But Mavis. Mavis.

The beautiful woman with the mouth of a Russian sailor and the hips of Aphrodite. Was it foolish, that Ace had imagined spending the rest of her life with her? I would have made you happy, Ace thought. I would have kissed you good morning. I would have smiled when you laughed, and I would have made you laugh every day. The world needs more of your laughter, moya dorogava.

The gods were imbeciles for taking away the woman she loved.

Mavis would have said, The gods can fuck themselves and their mothers.

"Ace?" said Isla, tugging on her hand. Ace had not realized the priest had finished speaking; the crowd's head was bowed now.

Isla's eyes slid up to the sky.

It was snowing.

Snowing―in Las Vegas. Crystal flakes spiraled to the ground. A thin layer of shimmering dust, glittering like a web of stars.

"It's beautiful," Isla said. Clouds formed on her breath. The tears on her face had dried with the cold. Silver rivers.

"Yes," Ace agreed. They stayed there, side by side, until the rest of the mourners had slowly dispersed.

the child," said Lua Griffon. "We are willing to raise her."

"Where will you take her?"

"Back home, to Chicago," said Mavis's father. "This is where our friends and neighbours are. She will be loved."

"You had not spoken to Mavis in seven years," Ace said coldly.

It was clear they were not expecting this response.

Perhaps they had been anticipating gratitude from what they thought was Mavis's girlfriend. Gratitude, because they assumed Ace would not want to become a single mother. Gratitude, because a child was a handful, and raising another man's daughter was not ideal.

Ace did not care.

"We―we're willing to welcome her back into our home."

"Why now?" Ace challenged icily. "Why not seven years ago, when your daughter needed you and you slammed the door in her face because she was pregnant?"

"We―we have made mistakes," Lua Griffon stuttered. "That was the past."

"How do you feel about gay marriage?"

"Whether people choose to be gay or not is not our concern."

Wrong answer. Ace smiled coldly.

"Your daughter chose to be a lesbian?"

At the word lesbian, they both flinched.

"Her choices are not our business―the child is our granddaughter."

"She was your granddaughter seven years ago, too," Ace said. "But she is my daughter now."

"We have the right to her," said Joseph Griffon stiffly. "You were only her girlfriend. We were her parents."

Ace smiled―the kind she reserved for people at the end of a gun's barrel. "That is where you are wrong," she said softly, letting her Russian accent slip through. "As Mavis Griffon's legal wife, I am the guardian of Isla Inej Griffon."

There were a lot of memories Ace treasured. The moment when war prisoners gave up their secrets. Every second of Mavis's laughter.

But Ace would never forget the looks on their faces for as long as she lived.

"Isla is my daughter," Ace said quietly, dangerously. And then she walked away.

of the newly packed earth when Ace returned.

"Come on, malen'kiy nindzya," Ace said quietly. My little ninja. "It's time go home."

"They're not taking me away?"

Ace blinked, surprised. "Do you want to be with your grandparents?"

She would let Isla choose, if she wanted to. The decision was not entirely up to Ace. If Mavis's daughter decided she would prefer her abuela and abuelo instead . . .

But Isla said, "No. I want to be with you."

Ace held out her arm, and Isla tucked herself tight against her, her tongue slipping out so she could taste the snowflakes.

Ace waited with the other parents on the edge of the school field.

"Ready for the soccer game later?" said one of the mothers.

"Yes," Ace said coldly. "My daughter will win."

Isla, it turned out, was a very good soccer player.

The woman muttered something under her breath. Her hair was cut in a bob. Ace did not care to remember her name, but it might have been something like Susan.

Ace turned her head slowly.

Giving Susan a chance to run away.

Unfortunately, Susan did not take that opportunity.

Ace said, "Did you call my daughter a cheater?"

"You're obviously a trophy wife," Susan sneered. "Clearly, your daughter has been bribing the coach. That's cheating."

Ace smiled, but the school bell rang. Signaling the end of the day.

A rush of children poured through the open doors. Susan beamed with satisfaction.

I am not finished with you, Ace thought.

Ace had never liked children, but there was her favourite one.

She had gotten used to Isla shrieking her name and tackling her.

But today, Isla only looked down, as though she was embarrassed. She walked slowly to Ace.

"Malen'kiy nindzya?" Ace asked. "What is wrong?"

Isla just shrugged, still not meeting Ace's eyes.

Now, Ace narrowed her eyes and knelt down. Tilting Isla's head up.

Pure rage. That was pure rage exploding inside of her. At the sight of Isla's face.

The bruise on her eye.

Susan's child, a little boy, was sneaking triumphant glances at Isla. A little red-headed goblin.

Ace did not phrase her words as a question. "Who did this to you."

"Mom, it's fine, okay? It's whatever."

Whatever? "It is not whatever," Ace said.

"Seriously, it's fine!"

"How many?" Ace had trained her daughter well. If someone had managed to bruise her, it would have taken more than one weaselly little child. "How many, kiska?"

Isla's voice was tiny. "Five."

Five boys who had ganged up on Ace's daughter.

Cowards.

And that little ginger boy . . . Ace knew that look on his face. The glowing victory.

"Stay here," Ace ordered Isla.

It took her four seconds to reach Susan and her little monster of a child.

Before Susan could say a word, Ace used one hand to pick up the ginger boy by the back of his shirt.

"Touch my daughter again," she breathed, "and I will break every single one of your 206 bones."

"You can't threaten my child like that!" Susan screamed.

Ace knew they had the attention of all the other parents in the courtyard now. She did not care.

"Oh, can't I?" Ace's voice lowered to the sleek, dangerous growl she reserved for prisoners of war. "Tell your son that a fight of five against one is cowardly. But I do not blame him. It is clear he inherited it from someone."

"Are you―did you just―are you calling me a coward?"

"That is exactly what I am calling you," Ace said softly, smiling now.

She applied pressure to the back of the monster's spine. He wailed.

Then she dropped him.

The front of his pants were stained darker. He had wet himself.

The other children began to laugh.

When Ace returned to Isla, even she had a giggle on her face.

"Mom, you just made Cory pee himself."

"Who were the other four boys?"

Isla's eyes now flickered with a mischievous light. "Can you show me what you did there, Mom? I think I can handle this one on my own . . ."

Ace willed herself not to smile with the pride that swelled in her chest.

"Good," she only said. "Now, it is time to go home and get ready for your soccer game."

Isla giggled.

"What is the word for it? Kick ass. Yes, you will kick ass."

"I always do," Isla said brightly.

the lights to Isla's room that night.

"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the evil ninjas bite," she said softly, pausing at the doorframe.

Isla had won her soccer game. And she had kicked a boy in the face. Ace had never been so proud.

"Goodnight, Mama."

Once Isla was tucked in, a small mound under the covers, Ace slipped into the hallway. In the kitchen, with the lights dimmed low and the oven light blinking, Ace made a phone call. "I trust, Heaven Tanaka, that you will take care of the trafficking ring in Moscow."

"I have put a bounty on the head of anyone who tries," said the cool voice on the other end. Just a twelve-year-old girl, but Ace knew she would be a dangerous weapon one day.

"Good," Ace whispered. "Then I expect this is the last I will ever hear from you."

There was a pause. The voice crackled, "You did good. Are you sure . . ."

Are you sure you don't want to come back?

"I am sure," Ace said, and she hung up.

The sound of light footsteps padding her way drew Ace's attention. Her fingers tightened over her gun, but it was only her daughter.

"Isla?"

Isla rubbed her eyes sleepily. "I couldn't sleep."

"Nightmares?" Ace said softly, opening her arms so Isla could sit on her lap.

"I miss her," Isla said, nestling her cheek against Ace's chest. "And sometimes I have dreams. Was she . . . was it painful?"

"No," Ace said swiftly. In the second before it hit her, Mavis had known. But the bullet had been instantaneous. Painless. "You know, your mom loved you."

"Do you think she'd mind if I became a ninja?"

"Not at all," Ace promised. "I think she'd love that, actually. She always wanted you to follow your dreams."

When Isla smiled, Ace knew everything was going to be alright.

"But do you think she'd mind if we got a dragon?"

"A dragon? Probably not." Ace hesitated. "Why do we need a dragon?"

"Every ninja needs a dragon. But if she wouldn't mind a dragon, then she definitely wouldn't mind a dog, right?"

"A dog," Ace repeated.

"I think we should get a dog."

"I'm not . . ."

"Mama, please," Isla wheedled. "I've always wanted a dog."

Ace sighed. This girl could ask her for the moon, and Ace would do her best to string it onto a charm bracelet. "But you have to take care of it."

"Yes! I know just what to name it."

Ace kissed the top of Isla's head and outside, it began to snow.

The streetlights illuminated the soft kiss of white against the damp black roads. A star-flecked wind swirled through the open window―but Ace could have sworn she had closed it. With Isla on her shoulder, curled into her neck, Ace slowly rose from the kitchen table.

On an evening in March, with Isla's heartbeat singing against her chest, Ace leaned down to close the window.

When she heard the sound of Mavis's laughter, unraveling from starlight, she only smiled to herself.

"Good night, Mavis," Ace said. She closed her eyes, and she knew―everything was going to be alright.

The window closed, and the starlight faded.

I'll see you again one day.