The clock ticks past midnight as your pen continuously and restlessly scratches at the paper in front of you. Moonlight streams through your office windows as a soft, golden light from the lamp on your desk illuminates the files in front of you, the only light in your otherwise dark world. The mission tomorrow would be heavy. There would be casualties on both sides, no doubt. But it was important. Too important to risk even the slightest misstep in this plan. Because these were the people who had murdered your husband. The father of your child, who was only a toddler when they lost their father. They had disappeared like cowards for years after what they had done, unwilling to face the wrath of the most feared woman of the criminal underworld, but with the same nerve to gloat about what they had done. When word got back to you about their coming out of hiding, you immediately jumped on it. Years you have hunted them, you would not risk them getting away again. You would not risk failing your husband. Your child. So for weeks since the first whisper, you’ve worked day and night on this mission.

You hear the soft creak of your office door opening, and your eyes snap up from the mission files in front of you. There’s only one person who was able to walk in on you like this. Your child.

(you pick if you have a daughter or son)