Author Note: Hi!

Wow, I don't really know how to begin this, actually. It's been a long time. But yeah, I'm still writing no matter what.

Well, thank you so much that you guys still stay with me and are still waiting. So many things happen like because now my life is changing from a student to an adult, I think. I mean I have to work and, you know, take care of myself now, so time just disappears. Anyway, as you can see, somehow, I can manage to finish this, so Hurray! We have got a new chapter.

And first of all, I owe all of these kind people some answers, so please see my reply to your comment below ;)

For Juju350, hi! And thank you so much. Don't worry at all. English isn't my first language as well and as you can see, there are still a lot of grammatical errors in my note. So, it's alright. Let's just talk.

For Ash Wave, hey, I don't know what to say but thank you that you're still here. Yeah, it's quite intense, indeed. And thanks for your kind word but believe me, I'm just an amateur.

For PommeEmpoisonnee, hello and nice to meet you. It's okay, don't worry. Just hearing that you have reread it for so many times and you are happy are great enough. For the characters, I try to make it kind of grey, not white or black, but I have to admit that it's hard because the original characters have already been set up and I cannot mess up with their characters that much. Otherwise, I would destroy their core. So yeah, I might have added something complex to them but it's just only a bit. I have to give all credits to Ransom. For the flashbacks, I kind of feel like it's a very good tool to reveal or portray characters, so yes, you'll see a lot of them in my story. And for the last part, hehe, yes, I'm a very very big fan of Penny Dreadful and I'm also a big fan of Eva so when I wrote this, I could remember that Eva used to say this line before, but I cannot recall which show or movie is that. I mean I should have known cuz I've watched. PD for like thousands times but because I always skip that scene (I cannot stand it. It's beautiful but I just cannot) so I didn't get this until I saw your comment. Thanks to that. And yeah, I agree that they share so many similarities. I just wanna make sure that you know that this is not wasting my time at all. Actually, it's something that can drive me up, can kind of boost me. And hey, don't worry, I'm Thai from a small country in led Thailand and my English isn't perfect as well. Doesn't matter as long as we can understand each other, right?

For Eva Ives, woah your username is really cool. Thank you and sorry that it took me so long to finish the next chapter but hey, here we are. And I know that now everyone is worried about Miss P and every child. I just can't say anything but hang in there.

For Vizidoodle, thanks and good to talk to you again. Yeah, I hope she will be okay as well, but I cannot trust myself, you know. Anyway, I'll try my best.

For Harpyl, well, I cannot answer your question for sure. But thank you, anyway, for your kind words. I really appreciate that. All I can say is, let's see ;)

For some guest here, yeah, I know it's kind of what the f*** thing but keep reading and it might get better (or worse, who knows, lol)

For StayPeculiar, my dear, I'm so thankful that you're always here. And yeah, I keep asking me that question as well, why I would do that :) And believe me, everyone can come up with such a powerful story if they are i to it. Not just a story, actually. It's kind of everything that we do. And…so sorry that I broke your heart, lol. As a friend, I'm really really sorry but as a writer, yes, you're right, I have to admit that I'm quite happy. Don't take me wrong. It's just you know the author's thing and feelings when their piece has an impact on their readers, especially, this much. And, oops, seems like I've hurt her already. Thanks for everything and yes, it's hard to kill a character. Also, I really appreciate that you come back to read and share more opinions. It really means so much to me. Kind of reminding me that someone is still waiting, and I have to be faster and better. Well, can't wait to see your reaction after this chapter. I'm sure I have to find some shelter, maybe padded room or somewhere safe enough to hide from you and the others. ;) As for your lovely questions, well, I've been writing since I was very young, like 7-8, I think. But that time it was more like a short story and it was in Thai, my first language. There are a lot of stories I have come up on my own and I've never written any fanfics before. But after Miss Peregrine is out, I just want to come up with something, so that's the beginning of these stories. For the second question, well, I always have the rough idea in my head first and I'll see to this whether it is reasonable enough, whether I have the way to end this, and like kind of make sure that everything makes sense. And then I plot it to like rough scenes, like big scenes that I'll include in my story, like the big step to the end. And when I'm sure that everything is linked, I write. And since this is a fanfic, so I kind of want to explore more about each character so I allow myself to add more details, as you can see like those flashbacks or other unimportant scenes. Basically, I have everything planned. It's just the matter of time and other details that might be a bit difficult part to deal with. For the third one, lol. although I always end mine with a cliffhanger, I won't say it's the best way. Sometimes, I just feel like I need a break from a cliffhanger, but you know it's kind of the easiest way to end each chap so, as you can see, a lot of them appear here. I think for this question it depends on each author. They have their own style and their own way of ending their own chapters. Some might end it with nothing special while some might leave a giant bomb to their readers. It depends. I don't know whether that can help but thanks for these questions, anyway.

For another Bunnycake, well, thanks for your version of Santa Claus is coming to town. It's really cute. Thanks for all of the questions as well although I don't think I can answer them without spoiling you. And no, you're not bothering me at all. Actually, this is what drives me to write. Thanks again for sharing this with me and for reading this. I promise to keep trying.

For Abigail, hi and I know it's pretty shocking. But let's just say you might be one of only a few people who notice that this is Horace's dream and it hasn't happened yet. But well, I think if you haven't cried on the floor the last time, well, you might want to prepare the floor this time. ;)I don't know, just some advice, I guess. And yeah, Eva's voice can makes everything powerful and memorable. I can still remember her face when she says this. Hard to forget.

For latesquaddd, hi and glad to meet you. Thank you so much. Yes, I always wonder how he perceives everything, so I always dreamed to write one chapter from his perspective during the time when he has his vision. And yeah, that's how this chapter begins. For your questions, I have studied English since I was young but because I studied it in Thai school, so I didn't go so far. But then I attended an English Program like 10 years ago and I think that was when it got somewhere. So I'd say 14-15 years, I guess. And thanks for your compliment but believe me, there are still a lot of grammatical errors or word choices or other things that need to be improved. For the second question, I'm so sorry to say that for this one, I kind of have no idea. I mean you can check my favorite lists. Some of them include Caul but for Myron, I'm not really sure. One of them stands out, though. This is from my friend, NejiHina100, and the story is Yet If Hope Has Flown Away. It features Caul as well, so you might wanna check it out. Sorry that I cannot help that much. But thanks, anyway, for asking. I promise to try my best.

For another guest, hi and for your question about how often I update this, well, frankly, I don't really know. I kind of cannot answer this because I am now working, and my life is super busy and also sometimes, it's just kind of hard to, you know, come up with these words and make them organised, understandable, and strong. But no matter what, I promise that I'll finish this for sure. So thank you and I'll try to update more often, if possible.

For rebecca-in-blue, hi and thank you so much for sharing your opinions with me. Yeah, I admit that the pace is quite too slow now and it might be a bit boring to read. I'll try to see to that and improve that. Anyway, I just wanna say I kind of like your story very much, the crossover with Miss P and Sirius. Thanks again for your idea. :)

And a special thank, as always, go to my sis, Yuna McHill, who is a marvelous editor of my piece. Without you, it wouldn't have been this great, my dear. Thanks for everything.

Okay, after so much talking, I think it's time to let all of you go. Thank you again for your big support and don't forget, your words, ideas, and opinions mean a lot to me. I'll keep trying I promise.

Till the next time and ENJOY!

Chapter XXIII

That night was bitterly cold.

And it was raining.

So heavily that Alma couldn't see the way.

In fact, she just flapped her wings and headed aimlessly to someplace as far away as possible from the place she had just left.

'Run. Alma! Run!'

Her mother's last word still rang in her ears. The gun, blood, and bodies were still so fresh. She tried to think of it as a dream, a nightmare, but every single drop of rain here was a perfect proof that it was not. Her wing was shot. And it hurt enough when she moved, let alone when it was stabbed by the freezing raindrops that were more like thousands of needles.

She didn't even know when she passed the loop entrance although the sky must have suddenly turned clear and bright and been decorated with billions of twinkling stars as it always was.

She was being haunted by those terrifying pictures in her head and, as a result, shutting herself out of the world around completely. It might have been her pure instinct that brought her to this place.

When she landed clumsily on the porch of the house, she only just realised where she really was and she had absolutely no idea how she could have brought herself all the way here in this condition.

Her feathers were completely soaked and the air around was chilly. Her blood was still dribbling and her whole body was throbbing.

She tried to transform back but couldn't. The pain was beyond unbearable, so she decided to give up in the end.

Anyway, Alma knew she couldn't just stay like this. Either her wound or the cold would get her soon, so she'd better do something unless she wanted to face a gruesome death.

Like her father.

Like her mother.

Alma closed her eyes. She tried to concentrate on what was happening, not what had happened. But it wasn't easy at all. Everything was still so vivid — their screams, the fear in their eyes the moment before their life slipped away. Every single element of what had just happened was so clear to her as if it happened again and again now, right here, in front of her.

She made a sad screech. She had never known before that the bird could make such a sound. It was stronger than any sad melodies and sharper than any miserable cries she had ever heard. It came from her broken body, her broken soul, her broken heart for the loss of her brothers, her parents and the life she used to know. From now on, she had to walk on a path she had never trodden. From now on, she would have to fly on this road alone. From now on, she had no one.

Perhaps, the reason she had come here might be that she always felt this was the only place where she could really feel safe. Perhaps, she had brought herself here to ask for help. But what for? They were all gone. Perhaps, she didn't need help. Perhaps, the only thing she needed now was… an escape from this misery.

So she stayed still like a statue, allowing chill air to bite her. The dripping sound of her warm blood was such a melancholic but peaceful lullaby. Soon she would join her parents. Soon she would see them again. Soon… very soon.

… she felt a warm hand on her forehead…

… she heard a humming…

… she knew that her body was no longer soaked…

… if this was death, it was not that bad…

'Alma.'

Someone called her. Someone she knew.

'Alma, my dear.'

Perhaps, this could be her mother. Perhaps, she had already crossed to another realm.

'Alma, can you hear me?'

She slowly opened her eyes.

Everything was so bright that she had to blink repeatedly.

She was in… a room. A bedroom. Her own bedroom. But not the one in her house. It was the one in her mentor's.

'Miss Avocet.'

And then she saw her. Her beloved ymbryne.

Esmeralda Avocet sat beside her near her bed. Next to her were a water basin, cloth and bandages. Alma looked at her arm and it was well dressed. She had just realised as well that she was now in her human form already.

'What happened, Alma? Could you please tell me?'

As if that question were a key for the box that kept her recent memory, every picture, every sound, every feeling came back to her again, echoing through every vein in her body. Then came the flood of tears, pouring down while her limbs were shaking uncontrollably. She turned numb. She couldn't say a word. It was too painful to speak.

It was when Miss Avocet pulled her into her arms that Alma's pain gradually wore off. It was still there, yes, she knew, but for some reason everything was less scary. At least, on the path she had to walk she still had her mentor with her. At least, she was not really alone.

'Shhhh… my dear. Shhhhh… it's okay if you don't wish to tell me now.'

She should have told Miss Avocet, she knew. But she just couldn't speak. It was as if her voice had been stolen. She couldn't find it, no matter how hard she tried. So she just held her ymbryne like that, cried on her shoulder like a little girl and wished she could stay like this forever, safe and sound under her ymbryne's wings, oblivious to what had happened, what was happening and what would happen. She did not want to do anything else. She did not want to eat, drink, or even fly. She just wanted to stay like this. That was all she needed.

But she couldn't.

'Miss Avocet!'

It was one of Miss Avocet's boys that Alma used to meet when she visited here. He was under Miss Avocet's protection but actually he was a grown-up already. So he was more like Miss Avocet's assistant who helped her look after the children.

'What, Bay?'

'Something happened at the loop entrance.' His face looked pale and shocked. 'Something killed the villagers.'

'What?'

Bay turned to Alma as if he were asking for her forgiveness from what he was about to say.

'I think Caul brought them here, Miss.'

And that night, although Alma was far from being well, she had to travel a very long journey again. Miss Avocet and Bay woke the children up and just a few minutes later they left their house, leaving almost all their belongings, for there was no time left. Then, to make everything worse, a light drizzle began to fall and soon came the heavy rain. They all had to walk through sticky mud up the hill and then down until they reached a lonely abandoned cottage behind it. They hid inside, gathering together in the darkness, shivering from the cold.

Alma sat in one corner with the thickest blanket, since Miss Avocet was certain that she would have a fever soon from her wound. She couldn't look around because she knew that every eye was on her, blaming her for what happened. It wasn't her, yes, but it was her brothers, after all. So although Alma didn't join this bloodshed, she couldn't help feeling responsible for what her brothers did. At least, more than half of the room here thought so.

But Miss Avocet didn't.

She told off some teenage boys who began to be rude to Alma. She was the only one at that time who didn't see her as a freak like her brother. She gave her shelter, protection and love as always. She was the one who tried to raise Alma up from the darkest moment in her life, although she and her children were also in the middle of this darkness as well.

They stayed like that all night, until Bay came in and told Miss Avocet that Caul and whatever he had brought with him were gone. But Miss Avocet didn't want to take the risk, so she flew to get her saving money in the house and then they decided to abandon their loop to create a new one in a new place.

Alma was there, through all of this. And there was nothing she could help with. If it were not because of Miss Avocet's kindness and love, she wouldn't have survived this far and become Alma Lefay Peregrine.

So how could she?

'Alma?'

Miss Peregrine is speechless.

She looks at her beloved trainer who is now tied to a chair. There are some bruises on Miss Avocet's face and Alma can't believe that they dared to hurt her. She looks quite shocked and leans a bit backwards. At first, Alma thinks it's because of the presence of her brother, but then she realises it isn't. It is because of what she is holding in her hand, pointing directly at her trainer's head.

'No way!' Alma pulls it back at once when she understands what her brother has asked her to do. 'I will never do this!'

Jack looks at his sister for a moment. It's a moment of silence and at first, Alma thinks after this silence is gone, she would be slapped and forced to give the gun back, but she is wrong. Just a second after, Caul smiles again and whistles. He walks towards Miss Avocet and places his hand on her shoulders, doesn't even care that Alma is still holding the gun.

'My, my, look at her.' He whispers into Miss Avocet's ear. 'Aren't you proud of her? She is exactly like you, following the footsteps of a bunch of idiots who try to be a nanny for those children.'

'Don't listen to him, Esmeralda!'

'But you do understand the situation here, don't you?' Jack continues. 'If she kills you, that lovely girl in that glass box is going to live. But that will happen if only she kills you.'

'There must be another way, Esmeralda.'

'Isn't she your sister, Caul?' Miss Avocet asks, her eyes move from Alma's to the white ones. 'Aren't you her brother? How could you do this to her?'

Jack doesn't reply. He just stares back at the old lady and then looks away. Silence fills the room again before he speaks up, but to Alma.

'I gave you the choice already, my little bird. Don't you waste it.'

'I will not do that.' Alma insists strongly.

'Then let's watch your girl die then. Shall we watch together while having your other children's eyeballs as a snack?'

'Stop it!'

'Or shall we wait a bit more and let's come up with some other ways to play with your children? Like… let those ugly twins petrify the little girl?'

'Stop that!'

'Or shall we just gather them together in one room and let them kill each other or even themselves in order to save you? Ooh, I'm certain those little ones will be the firsts for sure.'

'STOP!'

Alma has just realised that she is panting heavily and shaking from head to toe. Her face becomes damp with a stream of tears again. Another thing that she has just realised, is that now the gun in her hand is pointing towards her brother's head. Her finger is on the trigger, ready to pull.

'Go on.' Jack laughs. 'Shoot me, if you want to. But don't forget what I have already told you, Alma. Don't forget that.'

Alma doesn't lower her gun although she knows she cannot shoot him. What else can she do? She cannot shoot the tank behind her, she cannot shoot Jack, she cannot shoot Miss Avocet, so what else I can do?

'Don't you see, my dear, there's no way out.' Jack walks back to his sister. 'So just shoot her. That's all.'

'Alma.'

Miss Peregrine turns to see her ymbryne.

'Save her.'

She knows Miss Avocet means Emma. And she knows that this lady has always taught her to take the children as their first priority. But this time, she just cannot do that.

'Save her, Alma.'

'No, Esmeralda, I will not kill you!'

'You have to, Alma.'

'No!'

'You have sworn an oath, haven't you? Don't you remember?'

'I cannot do this!'

'An ymbryne must take peculiar children as her first priority in any circumstances. You swore to me on the day you finished your training, Alma.'

'No!'

'An ymbryne must prioritise the peculiars, especially the ones under their wings. Their lives shall be put above your own no matter what, for…'

'… for from the first day you hold them in your arm, you become their guidance, their saviour, their protector and their mother.'

'Remember this, Alma. Just remember this.' Miss Avocet smiled at her new ymbryne who in her opinion was the most talented one she used to train.

'I will. I promise, Miss Avocet.' Alma replied with a smile.

'Dear, from now on, although there's a large gap between our age, I'm afraid you should call me by my first name for I am now your sister, my Alma.'

Alma chuckled a bit, but when she saw that Miss Avocet was waiting to hear from her, she gathered herself and called Miss Avocet by her first name for the first time.

'Yes,… Esmeralda.'

'Great.' Miss Avocet stepped forwards and grabbed Alma's hands. 'And from now on, everyone will know you as Alma Lefay Peregrine.'

It sounded a bit strange, since this was the first time she heard that after being known as Alma Lefay Bentham for so long. But she really loved it.

'Good luck, my dear Miss Peregrine.'

'You've promised me already, Alma.' Miss Avocet reminds her student. 'Keep your words.'

It's more like a command, not a pleading. As if this is just another test that she has to overcome to become the great ymbryne in her mentor's eyes.

'Concentrate, Alma.' And concentrate she did.

'Faster, Alma.' And faster she became.

'Stronger, Alma.' And stronger she has turned to be.

'Kill me, Alma.'

Does she… really… have to do… this?

Does she really have to follow Miss Avocet's word this time?

Does she really have to…kill her own ymbryne?

Do I?

Thud thud…

Do I have to do this?

Thud thud…

Do I really have to kill her?

Thud thud…

Isn't there any other way out?

Thud thud…

Must it be this way?

THUD THUD!

It's like something very strong pulling Alma out of the freezing sea. So fast that she almost chokes.

She almost forgets that apart from the gun, Miss Avocet, Jack, and herself, she still has… Emma here.

Every pair of eyes but Miss Peregrine's turn to the girl in the glass box.

Alma hesitates at first whether to turn around or not, but when she's certain that something happens to Emma, the Bird looks back.

Her girl must have struggled a few seconds ago.

Alma isn't sure, for when she turns around Emma's hands gradually drop down and float gently in the water. Her eyes are now closed and there are no longer bubbles coming from her mouth or nose.

The girl doesn't move anymore.

'Emma?'

Alma mumbles.

'Emma?'

She says it louder but it's no use.

'Emma.'

'Victor.'

It is like what happened long time ago, under the rain, when she once used to call another child like this.

'Victor?'

'Emma?'

She repeats when her girl doesn't reply. So did she when her boy remained silent.

'Victor?'

'Emma.'

And then she slowly brings her injured body to the glass box where her girl is, like when she crawled to her boy who laid still on the grass.

'Victor.'

'Emma.'

She touches the glass where her girl's face is so close to. It is like she is just sleeping. And Alma believes with all her heart that if she calls her girl a bit louder, Emma is going to wake up.

'Emma!'

'Victor.'

But he didn't.

But she didn't.

'Victor!'

Still no answer.

Her voice begins to crack and her hands tremble more severely.

This cannot happen again. She has made a vow. This will not happen again as long as she's still breathing. She has made a vow. I have made a vow.

'Emma!'

She feels like she can't breathe. Suddenly, the whole room becomes smaller until it is not larger than a coffin. She feels like she is buried. Deep, deep down under the cold ground.

'Victor!'

His blood was on her hands, her lap, her face, her legs, everywhere.

'Victor!'

His eyes were gone. There was nothing left but two bloody dark holes on his face.

'Victor!'

And she knew no matter how hard she cried, he wouldn't wake up again.

'Victor!'

So does she.

'Emma!'

Alma cries.

She no longer cares that Jack is there. She no longer cares that her tears will please him. This is too much. This is unbearable. She cannot endure this anymore. She should have let him kill her since that day when he took away their mother's life. She shouldn't have flown away. That way it might not have been this hurtful. That way they might not have had to die because of her. That way her sweet girl and boy would have still been alive.

'NOOO!'

She keeps knocking although there is no reply. Her baby is so close to her, but she cannot even touch her hair. Her hand is just less than an inch from her girl's, but she cannot hold it. What on earth has she done to deserve this cruel punishment?

It takes her a few seconds before she realises that crying here cannot make anything better. If she can bring Emma out right now, her child might still have a chance. So Alma turns back to Jack and decides to do what she has never thought she would do before.

She kneels down.

Alma swears she has never seen a smile as pleasant as this from Jack before. The moment when her knees touch the cold floor, Alma can hear his heart, if he has one, scream with joy. The Bird tries to focus on Emma, on her children, on her teacher. She tries to throw away her pride, since it is nothing compared to her children. And although she has no idea how many times she has said this word today, she finds her voice to speak it up again.

'Please, Jack…I beg you…I beg you.'

She doesn't move when he swoops down to meet her face. Instead, she looks directly into his eyes, revealing him every ounce of pain and fear in her heart. If this is what he wants, she will let him have it. She will give him everything if that can save her girl's life.

'Please…' she whispers.

And suddenly, Jack's face changes.

His evil smile disappears and is replaced with a soft one. His eyes turn sad and sympathetic. And for a moment, just for a moment, Alma allows herself to be stupid enough to believe that he would change his mind.

But that is before he moves closer and sings in her ear,

'Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird won't sing,

Papa's…'

He chuckles.

'Papa's gonna break its pretty wings.'

And then he bursts out into laughter. Like someone has just told him the funniest story in the world.

'Play your game, Alma.' He says. So loudly that it echoes across the room.

'Play. Your. Game.'

That is when Alma realises that it doesn't matter how much pain she is suffering from or how many tears she has lost. It doesn't matter how many deaths she has to witness or how many people are tormented in front of her. As long as she can still feel more pain, as long as she can still cry, as long as she can still be his spectator, this… will never end.

She knows Jack will not give her a key.

She knows he might have another 'game' waiting for her after Miss Avocet.

She knows Emma probably doesn't have much time left.

And she knows that out there, her other children are near. She can feel them. And at least, she has just found Jake.

They can help her girl.

They can help Emma.

If her beloved brother and his minions leave this room.

All she has to do is making him leave this room as soon as possible.

And the only reason why he is still here is… her.

So…how?

No, she isn't in a condition to transform and fly away. Besides, it would have been no use since he still has her people.

There's no way out.

No other ways out.

...But this...

So she turns to something besides her that she has just dropped on the cold floor.

'Hahaha, yes. Be a good girl, my little bird.'

She reaches out her shivering hand and slowly she grabs it, feeling its coldness against her palm again. It's like she has collected the heaviest freezing pebble.

'Just play your game.'

For a split second, she can't help asking, is this really the only way out?

Have I made the right decision?

Have I?

But when she thinks about her Emma, in that cold water, in that glass box, she raises it up. She knows she has to raise it up.

Are you certain, Alma?

Are you?

Yes. But to whom?

Are you sure?

To him.

'Oh Alma,' he begins, 'I'm so disappointed. Is that how you're going to play?'

She remains silent, allowing old memories to flood in. And although she cannot really find the good ones, she still misses those old days when she had her father, her mother and her two brothers around.

She hates him.

But she loved him.

She loves him.

So this is hard.

'Listen carefully, Jack.'

Are you sure you want to do this, Alma?

'On this board of yours,'

Her voice is so hoarse that she can no longer remember it is hers,

'you might think you have all pieces on the right place where you want them to be.'

He is confused, she can tell.

'You might think you are a king, sitting on a throne, surrounded by your servants.'

Is this the right decision, Alma?

Is it?

'You might think you could force me to sit on another throne and gradually kill my pawns, my rooks, my knights, my bishops and my queen before my eyes.'

Is it?

'But you are wrong.'

Is it?

'I am no king… nor queen… nor pawn… nor bishop nor knight nor rook on this board.'

She struggles to stand up, swallowing all of the pain that quickly surges back.

'I am not your pieces.'

It is.

'And I will not play your game.'

It is the right decision, Alma.

It is...

'Miss Peregrine.'

'Miss Peregrine!'

Alma shook her head and pulled herself back to where she was. On a mat, in the garden, under the apple tree. And it was in summer. September the 3rd, to be more specific.

'Please don't stop.' Little Claire begged and pointed at a little girl with blond hair like her in a book.

The twins cooed. Three of them were on Miss Peregrine's lap, listening to the story she read.

'Alright,' the Bird said, 'where were we?'

'Here. She found a rose.'

'Ahh, yes, here, and then the little girl stood up and…' She was going on and on but she couldn't help thinking about other children.

This afternoon they acted so strangely. Alma knew that they were hiding something from her, but she couldn't figure out what was that. They planned it quite well, she had to admit. They sent her out to the garden with the little ones who didn't allow her to go anywhere. And Horace was pretending to sleep not far from them, waking up every time Alma needed something in the house.

They were up to something for sure but what.

'…and that's the end.' She closed the book. This time she would make sure that no matter what she must know what was going on inside. 'Alright, my dear, I think it's time for me to prepare you dinner.'

'NOOO!' Suddenly, Little Claire just wrapped her arms around her neck and the twins around her waist.

'Please stay here a bit longer.'

'Claire,' Alma smiled, 'aren't you hungry, sweetheart?'

'No.'

'But I'm sure you will be very soon and others as well.' the Bird could see Horace running back to the house.

'Please, Miss P.'

But then Victor came out. And when her three little children saw the boy, they all let go of her and ran to him at once.

'What is this, Victor?' Miss Peregrine asked, but her boy said nothing and just offered her a hand to help her stand up.

'I don't like that smile.' She raised her brow, trying to read the boy's face.

'It's nothing.' Victor told her. 'Nothing much.'

There was something. Otherwise, the twins and Claire wouldn't have run back to the house without her or him. But Alma knew better than to ask. He wouldn't tell her, she was certain.

'So can I come in now?'

'Sure, Miss. Of course, you can.'

She tilted her head a bit before beginning to walk back to the house. Victor followed her quietly, but she could sense that he was smiling. It wasn't that she didn't trust her wards, but this was way too mysterious. What were they really up to?

'It is a bit strange that today almost all of you decide to stay inside all afternoon.' She began the conversation, trying to be as normal as she could.

'Well, we just…don't want to go out, that's all.' Victor replied. His voice sounded higher than usual.

'I see.' Miss Peregrine took a deep breath to calm herself. She wasn't angry. But something unpredictable always made her feel nervous. Even though it was something her own children came up with.

When she reached the porch, she grabbed the knob and prepared to see something behind it. But when she opened the door, she found nothing. It was just her old hallway.

She stepped inside, sensing that it was too quiet. Usually, this hallway was always full of noises and sounds — Hugh running down the stairs, Horace talking to Millard, or once Claire even used to have her tea party here.

But today it was so…quiet.

No one was there.

'Victor?'

'Calm down, Miss. Don't kill me first.' He chuckled. 'I promise everything will be alright.'

But when his ymbryne still gave him a look, Victor cleared his throat and decided to give her a hint, at least.

'Perhaps, you should check the dining room.' He couldn't hold his smile. 'Might be something there.'

The Bird took a very serious look at him again before turning to face the door to the dining room. It was closed, and she didn't hear anything from the other side.

'Go on.' Victor said. 'Open it.'

And open the door she did.

At first, she saw nothing but when she walked inside—

'HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS PEREGRINE!'

She used to hear so many stories about what usually happens in the last second of our life.

Some say it's the longest.

Some say it's the shortest.

Some say it's the most precious.

Some say it's the scariest.

Some say it's a summary of everything that we have passed.

And some say it's nothing.

So many years ago, she agreed that it was nothing.

On that porch, in that cold night in Miss Avocet's old loop, all she really focused on were just her father and her mother somewhere behind the stars, waiting for her.

A second before death was nothing but a brick of a bridge that led her to them.

But now... but this moment…

It is their smiles.

It is her children's smiles.

It is their laughter.

It is them.

And suddenly, she just doesn't want to do this.

She wants to see them again.

All of them.

She wants to fly beside them to the end or at least until they no longer need her wings to protect them.

But you can't, Alma.

You can't.

Slowly she closed her eyes, trying to conjure that picture when all of them were standing before her, a cake topped with something she assumed to be a peregrine falcon doll on Emma's hands.

'Happy Birthday Miss Peregrine.'

'Happy one hundredth something birthday'

'Enoch!…Happy Birthday, Miss.'

'She is one hundred something years old this year, isn't she? From what we checked.'

'Enoch, enough. Happy Birthday, Miss. Thank you for everything.'

'You have to make a wish first before you blow the candles.'

'Cawwww'

'Millard! Put some clothes on!'

My dear children,

'Let it end…'

I don't want anything else but for you to grow up and live your life.

'Blow the candles!'

Thank you for the chance and everything that you've given me.

And she can feel its coldness on her temple.

Goodbye, my dearest ones.

'… with me.'

BANG

And everything turns red.

….. :)

You will not kill me, right? Hehe, I misbehaved I know so maybe, let's talk. Feel free to ask or comments or leave anything because no matter what it is, I'll definitely answer. ;) Thank youuu and love you.