In the morning, Damon checked the composite network on his desktop interface. He was half-hoping he would be able to unilaterally access it. The entire database and all its specs had been wiped. The only thing to come up on the screen was a banner reading:

WE APOLOGIZE, BUT THE COMPOSITE GRID HAS BEEN COMPROMISED AND WILL NO LONGER BE AVAILABLE FOR PUBLIC USE. HAVE A BLESSED DAY.

"I fucking hate this country!" Damon threw miscellaneous tech equipment against the wall. It smashed gloriously into pieces.

The cacophony brought Jenn, Ty, and Helia into the room.

Helia wandered around the floor. She was hardly permitted inside her uncle's room, and she was happy for the chance to explore the new space. Wires and shiny lights under his desk invited her touch.

"Why are you yelling, Damon?" Jenn kept one eye on her daughter, and one eye on her brother-in-law.

"Nothing. He's fine." Ty answered too quickly.

"What's going on with you two?" Spaces of silence. "What did the Agents say yesterday?" Her last question was directed at Ty, who remained evasive.

The three adults argued. Two of the three mixed their arguments with lies.

Helia played under Damon's desk, in awe of all the wonders she found. Tucked in the corner was a small black duffel bag with a note folded on top of it. Helia grabbed the note and threw it into the air, trying to make it fly. The note fluttered to the floor, with neither of the adults noticing.

Helia picked up the note and threw it over and over, just to watch it glide to the floor.

Jenn gave Helia the parent-once-over glance, which lasted seconds to make sure the child was in the vicinity and had no sharp objects in hand. Since Helia was amusing herself with a harmless piece of paper, Jenn pulled her concentration back into the debate.

They were talking about everything they had neglected the night before. It had all been too new to discuss details, or that was how Ty viewed it. Jenn was impatient to know what had been kept from her, and both men were less than willing to give over the answers. Mostly, they threw out scenarios without background information and Jenn was at a loss to place them where she could understand them.

Damon advocated flight, while Ty wanted to remain in Atlanta. For Jenn, the men weren't making sense. She had only gotten back, so why did they have to leave?

Damon told her life would be better for them somewhere else. When she pressed for a specific locale and why, Ty shut the conversation with the declaration of his unemployment. Pen had texted him a termination notice in the a.m.

"What are we going to do?" She played with her curls.

Damon stared at her, appalled and facsinated. Once, he had made fun of (old) Jenn's habit of curling her through her fingers, and she had defended herself, saying it'd been a habit since childhood.

On and on, (new) Jenn let each curl slip and wrap around her finger.

****

Everything was a mess, and Jenn wanted to fix it. She could remember a time when she hadn't cared for the details of life, hadn't cared at all, but she cared now. Letting events just happen wasn't going to placate her anymore. She wanted to do things.

Ty sat down on the bed, his face in a daze. "I don't know what we're going to do."

Something in his words opened up a floodgate. Instantly, he was crying so hard Jenn was worried.

She put her arms around him.

"I'm sorry." He sobbed.

Ty was sorry; he was sorry he had lost his job, and sorry he had let everything spiral out of control, but he wasn't sorry for keeping her in the dark. Jenn lost in the dark waiting to be led, it was as natural as breathing.

She noticed the path she wasn't being led on, but she let it go for now. Later, she would fight, but not now.

"It's okay. You don't have to know all the answers. We'll be alright." She thought of how ironic her words were.

"No, no." Ty's body shook with the force of his sobs.

Resolute, Damon stared past his brother, focusing on a dent in the wall. He was thinking, figuring out a way for them to leave the country together. The Prominent's reach was too far and deep for his liking. Damon wanted to leave before their influence (and creeping laws) got any worse. A small tap on his leg took him away from his plans.

"Uncle Damon? Make me plane, pwease." Helia held out a folded piece of paper.

At the moment, folding a paper airplane was the last thing Damon saw himself doing, but he thought it best to keep Helia distracted. She hadn't yet noticed her father melting on the bed, and with luck, she wouldn't have to.

Damon took the paper and unfolded it to begin a proper airplane. Then he stopped, and stared. Upside down, he saw his name written in the middle of the paper. When he turned it over to look closely, he didn't recognize the handwriting.

On the back of the paper were more words, addressed to him. The note began:

Told ya I could do it. Where'd you think you got your smarts from, anyway? Put this to good use, little brother. Love you, even if you do drive me fucking bonkers.

The tone belonged to Ty, but the signature did not. Sam had written the note, signing her name in large letters. Her brief words saddened him, and he was amazed when his eyes misted over. Damon turned the note over again and again. He was missing something, and he wouldn't bother Ty or Jenn until he knew what it was.

Gulping back his tears (he wasn't about to break down like a woman), he asked Helia where she had found the note. She didn't want to say at first, afraid she was in trouble. Damon gently repeated his question, assuring his niece she would not get into trouble. After two more assurances, and the bribe of a lollipop in her near future, Helia pointed at the darkness underneath the desk.

There was only shadow, but Damon forced himself to verify the supposed nothingness. He was glad he did, because the nothingness turned out to be an actual something-ness. A black duffel bag of something-ness. When he picked it up, it wasn't black, but dark purple. Damon opened the bag. The color of the bag mattered, because had it been a black duffel, it would've fulfilled an oft repeated cliché of being a black duffel full of money.

As it was, it was a large purple handbag full of money. Quite different, thank you.

Words wouldn't be enough to cut through Ty's depressed state. To gain the attention he needed, Damon threw the bag on the bed, scattering stacks of hundred dollar bills on the blue bedspread. The money silenced Ty immediately.

"Where'd this come from?" Jenn picked up stacks of money to check if it they were real.

In answer, Damon passed her Sam's note. She scanned it in seconds, but it held little meaning for her.

She glanced at Damon for elaboration. "Well? I still don't see where this money could have come from."

"Sam." The sorrow lifted from Ty's face, somewhat.

"How did she do it?" Jenn asked slowly.

Damon steeled himself. He should've told them much earlier, but he hadn't seen the reason for it. He began the story of Sam's obsession with the 3D printer. She had tried printing composite money from the start of her resurrection, a trick Damon promised could never be accomplished. There were more firewalls in place protecting composite money prints than there were protecting composite human prints. It was an analogy Sam had found amusing.

You thought I'd be impossible to print, didn't you? Damon heard her say the words many a day, many a time.

"She insisted on trying, and damnit, she was right. It's not impossible." Damon shook his head. A tear slid down his cheek, and he wiped it away discreetly.

"All this money." Ty's voice was a rasp. "What are we gonna do?"

"Whatever we want." Jenn said. "Leave, stay, buy some influence, and then leave. Whatever. We. Want."

Spoken like a person who was used to being undermined and had recently been set free. The clarity of her answer resounded in the two men. It sounded right. Even Damon was impressed with new Jenn. It was easy to forget he was nodding in agreement with a composite. A woman composite at that. He laughed to himself.

Jenn and Ty were looking at each other, deciding things about their future in the silent knowing way married people share.

"It's not an infinite amount of money." Jenn said what they were all thinking.

"Yeah, we should be careful and stay put for now. See where we're at in a few weeks." Ty said.

Damon wanted to argue, but it was too early in the morning. After he had a nap, he would fight and make them see his way. They wouldn't stay, not if they wanted to live, really live. But, he could tell them later. Later. He'd already forgotten about his dislike of Jenn. He would protest her presence tomorrow. Right. Tomorrow.

The four of them left the room, unaware of the boxes underneath Sam's bed filled to the top with composite money.