Isabel noticed an unmade bed, a broken painting frame, and some detritus strewn across the ground, but her attention was mostly on the brat scrambling away. “No! Come back here!” she yelled as she went after the girl. “Who are you? Why are there so many violent children in this stupid house?!”

“Die, capitalist scum!”

And then, out of nowhere, a bear leapt at her.

Her eyes widened, and she felt an overwhelming sense of dread wash over her. It was a bear. An actual, enormous bear, with claws digging into the linoleum and a large gaping maw opened wide to consume Isabel.

The bear bounced off her shield without even a thump.

Isabel lowered the shield while readying her weapons. Two laser cannons—with settings that went from stun to burn—over each arm, within shield-shaped casings.

Then two more girls stumbled into the kitchen, one looking like a mobster, the other a girl in a leather jacket like a wannabe biker.

Isabel wondered just what in the world was going on.

An incoherent scream from behind her was the only warning she received before the raccoon girl rammed her in the back of the knees. She stumbled back, but she summoned a shield right behind her, giving her something to crash into and push off of.

The bear roared, and Isabel felt the world darkening in the corners again. Her heart started to beat faster. She was outnumbered!

No. It was fear. Someone was playing with her feelings and pushing fear onto her. She couldn’t give in.

With a twist, she aimed her arm at the bear and fired. A buzzing zap sounded, and a red beam lanced into the huge creature and singed its fur. It roared, but that wasn’t enough to take it down.

The Hero growled and adjusted the beam upward, making it stronger.

Then the raccoon girl jumped onto her arm and pulled her off-kilter. “Let go!” Isabel shouted.

“No, you!”

“That didn’t even make sense!”

She raised her free hand and fired.

The beam lanced into, then through the raccoon girl’s leg.

The girl stared at the wound, then screamed.

Everyone paused.

Isabel’s breath hitched. Had she . . . had she just . . .

She stood there, confused and entirely uncertain what to do, then a saucepan crashed into the side of her head.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO

Reversal

Emily snuck into the house, for a certain definition of snuck. The floor creaked, loud and grinding to her ear, and she couldn’t help but feel like every one of her footfalls was a heavy wallop.

Still, it wasn’t that loud, and she figured she wasn’t making too much noise.

Some of her sisters could certainly stand to learn a thing or two.