You found her by accident.

At first, just a flicker of red and silver blurred through the trees. You thought it was Ruby Rose herself—until she skidded to a stop and turned around.

The girl was younger. Taller, maybe. With the same silver eyes, but sharper, like they hadn't quite softened yet with the kind of hope her mother used to wear. Her scarf billowed behind her. A smaller, sleeker version of Crescent Rose rested on her back.

She blinked. “…You’re not supposed to be out here right Barbara?"