[Adisa has just discovered that Micah's father, Mr. Alexander, conspired with Victor to kidnap her. She loses control and attacks him.]

“You knew I was here, defenseless, being terrorized by that maniac and you did nothing!?”

I was on him in a flash, in a full blown rage for the first time in months. I was punching, scratching, and kicking anything within range and if I was given the opportunity, I would bite as well.

He’d easily dealt with me before, using his painful vise grip. But now was a different story. I was in one of my rages, completely out of control. He struggled to hold me off, suffering my blows, while he managed to reach inside his car to open the garage door.

I was too out of control to take advantage and run away, my focus consumed with the desire to destroy him. I struck him in his face, neck, arms, chest, anything I could reach. I tried to grab his hair but his afro was trimmed too low for me to get a good grip on it.

“Victor!” Mr. Alexander screamed as I continued to rain down punishment on him.

Almost instantly, a cold familiar voice replied, “You called?”

“She’s raging, do something!” Mr. Alexander yelled.

I was instantly engulfed in frigid air. I slid to the ground, cradling myself as the assaulting cold sent explosions of pain throughout my body so intense it took my breath away. I couldn’t make a sound, could hardly even breathe.

My rage still burned deep inside me, trapped inside my now useless cold body. I rocked on the ground in agony, mad I could no longer get at Mr. Alexander.

Victor’s familiar pale white skin and jet black hair came into view. His dark eyes coldly observed me.

“What did you do to set her off?” he asked from above me, clearly amused by the whole situation.

“She figured out I was in on you kidnapping her,” Mr. Alexander admitted, using his sleeve to blot the blood from a cut on his cheek.

Victor’s laugh was sharp and unsympathetic.

“It’s not funny!” Mr. Alexander angrily asserted.

“I told you she was smart,” Victor chuckled. “And a fighter,” he added, indicating Mr. Alexander’s battered face.

“You gloat just like an earthbound!” Mr. Alexander snapped, applying pressure to his cut. He looked exhausted but I felt I could beat on him some more if it wasn’t for the paralyzing cold. Unfortunately, all I could do was bare my teeth in defiance, aching to release my frozen rage.

They were quiet for a while, watching me.

“Is she okay?” Mr. Alexander finally asked.

“I think she’s faking. She shouldn’t be this disabled. I gave her a rapid burst of cold. I didn’t blast her.”

Mr. Alexander bent over me and touched my clothes. “Icy,” he announced.

Victor squatted down in disbelief to inspect me for himself. “Her clothes are wet!”

“The fountain, she didn’t move fast enough.”

Victor eyed him suspiciously. “You deliberately drenched her! I told you she’s sensitive to cold.”

“Well I’m not the one who froze her,” Mr. Alexander retorted.

“She would’ve been perfectly fine if her clothes weren’t wet to begin with.” He swiftly lifted me from the floor as if I was weightless. “Open the door. We have to get her warmed up.”

Mr. Alexander pulled a remote out of his pocket and fumbled it in his rush to open the door. “Is she going to be okay?”

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