Afternoon coming into evening. Mookie hasn’t slept. He’s barely eaten. He had the hell kicked out of him by not one but two goblin hordes. And the mistakes he’s made seem like ghosts walking with him as he staggers up out of the subway tunnel.

Skelly: dragged away. Lulu and Karyn: one dead, the other forced to be alone. Werth: maybe betrayed him.

And his own daughter? Hates him. Hates him enough to go after his entire Organization. To maybe murder a young man. To bring it all down on Mookie’s head.

His ex-wife. Jess. Jessamyn. When was the last time he even called her? To check in? To do more than send her an envelope full of money?

Jesus. What an asshole he is.

No wonder they all hate him. No wonder everybody betrayed him.

Grampop’s voice in his head: You’re dumber than a truck full of broken toilets…

As his phone finds the signal, his cell dings. A text message coming in.

Mookie comes up to the corner, people moving in streams past him, and he checks the phone, shielding it from the glare of the sun.

One message from Werth. All caps.

CALL ME.

Mookie thinks about ditching the phone. But he doesn’t know that Werth sold him out. And he doesn’t know that Werth knows he suspects, either.

He dials the old goat.

Werth answers.

“Werth, what the f–”

“Mookie, shut up and listen. We have your daughter. You hear me? We have your girl.”

“You sonofabitch.”

“I want you to come in, Mook. It’s time to talk this out. Things have changed, you understand? You need to get right with this. There’s still room for you here.”

“Still room? Room for what? The fuck are you talking about?”

“The Boss is… listen, things have changed. Candlefly’s got the wheel.”

“Candlefly? And you’re on board?” Goddamnit. “You sniveling fuck.”

“I’m texting you a couple pics so you know we’re serious.”

We’re serious. Werth and Candlefly?

“I’m glad Nora shot you,” Mookie growls. “But I won’t be so gentle.”

“Shut up and look at your phone.”

The phone dings.

Deep breath. He looks.

“Nora,” he says. Voice a pained whisper. It’s her. Sitting on a chair in a wine cellar. Hands bound behind her. Feet bound to the chair. They beat her. Her face is bruised and bloodied. Head slumped forward. Mookie imagines that Werth did that. To get even.

Back on the phone.

“See?” Werth says. Sounding strained. Tired. Like all this was inevitable. “You can still do right by us. Come in. Play nice. We can all get on the same page. You can make out good. They wanna do right by us if we do right by them.”

“I’m going to break you in half. I’m going to beat you to death with your own horns. I’m gonna shove your hooves up your–”