Vivainne stepped out of the shower, wishing she could spend another hour under the steam and relentless hot water and maybe then her muscles would stop hurting.

Working out was hell.

She'd taken yoga in high school to satisfy a PE credit, and that was it. Running at least wasn't that bad, but lifting weights? Push-ups? Worse, pull-ups? They left her wanting to puke, something she absolutely refused to do.

She groaned as she pulled on a loose knit shirt, the muscles across her chest and shoulders twinging. Had she somehow managed to never use those muscles before? That couldn't be possible, could it?

"Feeling better?" Darcy asked, stepping out of the shower refreshed and bubbly, already fully dressed in a set of leggings and a tight runners jacket. She bounced lightly from foot to foot, gold sequin tennis shoes flashing under the fluorescent light.

"Worse," Viv said, dropping down onto the bench to pull her pants on. She was supposed to go on a run with Darcy after this, but how could she? She'd collapse from exhaustion.

"Drink some water," Darcy ordered. "And then get up. Sitting still is only going to make it worse."

"Do I have to?" Vivainne groaned, but pushed to her feet anyway.

"I promise it won't be that bad," Darcy said. "Besides, I have to whip you into shape before you start training for real. I can't have you embarrass yourself."

"Surely I can't be the only one going into the program without any prior training," Vivainne said. "So it doesn't really matter."

"Trust me, it matters," Darcy said. Her smile faded a bit, meeting Viv's eyes with levity. "I was that girl who hadn't lifted a weight a day in her life before joining the program, and it showed. You want to be one of the cool girls! Not the sad, weak girl who puked on her uniform day one."

"I don't puke."

"That's beside the point," Darcy said, and Vivainne had to resist the urge to point out that she was the one who brought it up. It wouldn't be productive, and she just didn't have the energy to be sarcastic. "I promise, this will help you in the long run."

"Okay," Vivainne said. She took a final drink of water and forced herself to move past the pain. She'd be fine; pain just meant she was building muscle, right? "I guess I'm ready."

She followed Darcy out into the hall, ready to start their run. Iris stopped abruptly, barely avoiding running into them as they left.

Her eyes tracked up and down Vivainne. "Looking good," she said, before moving past her into the locker room.

Heat flooded Vivainne's face.

Darcy caught Vivainne's eye, eyebrows raised. Please don't say anything. Please don't—

"What was that?" Darcy asked, her voice low. Vivainne could have strangled her. Instead, she grabbed the hood of her jacket, pulling it up around her face and tugging the drawstring tight. "Did something happen between you two?"

"No!" She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her running jacket, refusing to look at Darcy.

"Hm." The noise was loaded, but Vivainne didn't respond, forcing the hero to keep talking. "Didn't you two go on a date?"

"No." She sighed, the falsehood twinging at her. "I mean, sort of? But not really."

"Right." They left the underground behind, emerging up a flight of stairs into the great outdoors, a grey parking lot surrounding the tower. "Do you want to date her?"

"Stop, please," Vivainne begged. The last thing she needed was for Darcy to go and get involved in something that she absolutely didn't need to get involved in.

"You sure? She's really cute."

"I'm sure," Vivainne said. "I'm not really looking to date anyone right now. There's too much going on. Plus, I'm leaving in a few months anyway."

"A few months where you could be getting it." Darcy made a crude motion, and Vivainne walked briskly away from her. Heroes were, she decided, insane. Every single one of them. Vivainne probably would be too, one day.

"Wait, wait." Darcy ran after her, catching up as they hit the street. Overcast as it was, there were few people out walking, and Vivainne didn't feel bad about beginning a light jog. "Does this have anything to do with that girl who called you earlier?"

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"What?" Vivainne stared at Darcy like she'd lost her mind. "That was Pip."

"The cute Carter girl?" She wagged her eyebrows, and Vivainne looked pointedly away. She wasn't engaging with this.

"Yes, Pip Carter," Vivainne said. "And she was just calling to ask about anatomy, or something."

"Anatomy?"

"She didn't explain why," Vivainne said. "So I can't tell you."

"You could call her now…"

"No. Aren't we supposed to be running?"

They did a wide loop around the tower, jogging a few blocks down before making their way back. By the time they reached the ground floor, the pains throughout her body had faded to dull aches, though she would need another shower.

They reentered through the side, making their way below toward the locker room. Before they ever reached it, a body appeared in front of them in a stretching of light.

The Path stood before them, the colors of his super suit making him look like someone had taken a globe and smeared the colors across him. He tugged down the cowl over his face.

"There you are! Would it kill you to answer your phones?"

"Yes."

"We were running," Vivainne said, more helpfully. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes! Charles got takeout."

Vivainne shook her head, failing to understand the levity of the situation. "He gets takeout all the time."

"Not for dinner, he doesn't," Jordan said, shaking his head. A frantic energy consumed him as he paced the length of the corridor, wringing his hands together. "What do you think happened?"

"Why don't we just go ask?" Darcy suggested, far more seriously than she normally did. That brought Vivainne's amusement crawling to a halt, though she couldn't help but wonder, why was it such a bad thing? Recompense loved to cook, yes, but he just as often swung by a drive through or picked up food at a restaurant, especially when working.

Vivainne grabbed Jordan by the shoulder. "Where's Charles?"

"In the conference room upstairs."

Darcy grabbed his other arm. "Take us there."

In an instant, they stood in the large conference room Vivainne had been in several times throughout her time at the tower. Normally to meet with the lawyer. This time, Charles and Vanya were the only people in the room, two large bags of food on the wooden table.

"That didn't take long," Charles commented, not looking up from Vanya as he plated up wide steamed green beans and mac n cheese for the five year old.

"You bought takeout."

"What's wrong?"

"It smells good," Vivainne said, walking around the table to get a look at the contents of the bags. Fried chicken, not normally her thing but it looked good, along with a large salad, mashed potatoes, mac n cheese, and green beans. A paper box sat on the top of the other bag, and she grabbed it, revealing large, buttery rolls. The scent of yeast went straight to her stomach, mouth watering.

"Take some, please," Charles said. "I'm trying out a new place. It's not often you find good looking southern food in L.A. They even had collard greens."

He said the words with enthusiasm, though Vivainne wasn't sure exactly what those were. Whatever they were, if they were contributing to the scents assaulting her nose, they were doubtlessly good. She sat down beside Vanya, pulling over a paper plate and beginning to pick through the offerings.

"Is that why you ordered takeout?" Jordan demanded, slamming his hands on the end of the table like he was doing an interrogation. "Is that all?"

Charles looked up from the end of the table, meeting Jordan's gaze with a tired smile. "Trial ended."

Vivainne froze, buttered roll almost touching her lips. "Trial ended?"

What happened? she wanted to ask, but couldn't bring herself to voice the question. What if the outcome was bad? That was why Charles had ordered takeout, because whenever he ordered takeout, something bad had happened—

"They sentenced your mother to life in prison," Charles said, reaching over Vanya's head to lay a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I told you, there was never anything else that could happen. They just had to go through the motions."

Vivianne slumped against the table, relief rending her body motionless. Vora was gone. Locked up. Away forever. She wouldn't have to deal with her anymore, or any of her schemes.

She was free.

Jordan and Darcy cheered, Vanya joining in despite having little idea as to what was going on. Viviainne sat back up, smiling so wide her cheeks ached. The knot of tension that had been sitting in her stomach for weeks eased, digesting easily now that her mother was gone.

Vivainne bit into the roll, suddenly starving.

"You're also the new owner of Monet Industries," Charles added on.

Vivainne coughed, barely managing to swallow the roll before choking on it. "What?"

"Indeed," Charles said. "Court ruled that Monet Industries was not involved in your mother's illegal activities, in any provable way, which leaves them in your sole possession as her inheritor."

"That…" She stared at the table, unable to find words. She'd never anticipated anything like that. She'd never been interested in running her mother's business, or anticipated being around to inherit it, despite Vora making it clear that was her goal. "I don't—"

"You're rich," Darcy added, squeezing her shoulders. "You could sell the whole business and be set for life, even if you never make a dime as a hero."

"But," Charles cleared his throat and stood up. "That's not why I ordered takeout. Just had to get all that out of the way before I could get to the reason I did order all this food, and this cake."

He reached into the final bag and pulled out a paper box, opening the top to reveal a dark chocolate cake with white curve writing across the top. She leaned forward to get a better look, her heart leaping.

"Congrats, Viv. You made it into the hero program."

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