The sun dipped low over Odenton, turning the dormitory windows a soft gold. Inside the living room, the girls were scattered in zy clusters—half sprawled across couches, half pretending to study. The air felt calm, unhurried. Content.

  Michelle sat near the window, scrolling through files on her tablet, absently humming—until she suddenly froze. Her eyes widened. “...No way.”

  She double-checks, then looks up. “Girls,” she said slowly, “you know what day’s coming up?”

  Aiko gnced over. “Uh… undry day?”

  “Or another training schedule update from Lang?” Aya groaned. “Please tell me no.”

  “No,” Michelle said, grinning now. “Better. Trel’s birthday.”

  The room went still. Then—

  “Wait,” Anya said. “We have birthdays?”

  “That’s… new,” Mei-Ling added.

  “You mean we’ve never celebrated anyone’s?” Michelle asked.

  “I think the st birthday we had,” Liza said thoughtfully, “was when Aya bought herself cake after that bounty job in Rio.”

  “That was self-care,” Aya shot back. “Totally different.”

  “Well, not this time,” Michelle said. “We’re doing it properly. Decorations, cake, presents, party.”

  Samira snickered. “So… Operation Birthday Surprise?”

  “Exactly. And the mission objective,” Michelle added, “is keeping it secret from Trel.”

  Everyone exchanges uneasy looks.

  “That’s like sneaking past a bloodhound with a PhD in psychology,” Talia muttered.

  “She literally profiles people for fun,” Aya said.

  “She literally profiles people for fun,” Aya said.

  “We’ll need stealth, coordination and nerves of steel,” Mei-Ling said seriously.

  “And snacks,” Aiko added.

  Michelle nodded. “All right, let’s assign roles. Talia, you handle the tech — disable any surveilnce she might accidentally install to see what we’re hiding.”

  “Got it,” Talia said. “Spy-proofing the house.”

  “Liza, you and Aiko handle the cake.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s not explosive,” Liza promised.

  “Not this time, right?” Aiko said, hopeful.

  Snickers followed.

  “Aya, Mei-Ling and Katya, you're on decorations and distraction detail.

  “Copy that,” Aya said. “Operation Confuse Trel commencing.”

  “And I’ll handle the gifts,” Michelle finished. “Something personal. Something that says she’s more than just our strategist.”

  “You mean something sentimental,” Mei-Ling said softly.

  “Exactly.”

  The mood shifted—quieter now, warmer. Everybody realised what this means.

  “You know,” Maya said, “it’s kind of nice. We’ve never really done this.”

  “Feels like family stuff,” Anya added.

  “That’s because it is,” Michelle said.

  Everyone smiled, even Aya, who pretended not to like she hoped no one noticed.

  “Alright,” Michelle cpped her hands. “One week. Let’s make it unforgettable.”

  ***

  Pns sprawled across a whiteboard like a military operation. Sticky notes, arrows beled ’Cake,’ ’Gift,’ ’Trel Distraction Pn.’

  “This looks like we’re plotting a coup, not a party,” Aya said, squinting.

  “Both require precision and pusible deniability,” Michelle replied.

  “I’m putting that on a mug,” Mei-Ling said.

  In the kitchen, chaos reigned. Flour coated every surface. Aiko read the recipe upside down while Liza stirred something faintly glowing blue.

  “Is it supposed to bubble?” Aiko asked.

  “It’s called creative chemistry,” Liza said.

  “It’s called hazmat waiting to happen!” Aiko replied and right on cue a small “poof!” of smoke. The fire arm goes off. Talia rushes in with a mini-extinguisher, her expression completely ft.

  “Science experiment or dessert?”

  Liza considered it. “…Yes.”

  Trel stepped into the living room, eyes already narrowed with suspicion. Before she could speak, Aya leapt to her feet. “TRELLA!” she shouted far too loudly. “We should totally go shopping. Like. Right now.”

  Trel blinked. “…Shopping? You?”

  “Yes,” Aya said instantly. “For… socks.”

  Katya nodded beside her, slow, stiff and completely unconvincing, like a malfunctioning robot confirming orders.

  Trel folded her arms. “You’re hiding something.”

  “I’m hiding my bad fashion sense,” Aya said, grabbing her wrist, “now move!”

  Aya practically drags her out the door while everyone else breathes a sigh of relief.

  ***

  Maya’s fingers flew over her ptop as Talia attached a tiny sensor to the wall.

  “Trel keeps checking network logs,” Maya muttered. “She’s sniffing for traffic spikes.”

  “Then I’ll make fake ones,” Talia replied calmly. “She’ll think someone’s streaming cat videos in 4K again.”

  Maya gnced up. “That was you st time.”

  “Exactly,” Talia said. “Pusible pattern behavior.”

  In the meantime Michelle sneaks into Trel’s room with a fshlight in hand. She opens a drawer, finds a small picture of where she was way younger and had a pendant on her neck.

  “I’ve never seen her wear it,” she whispered. “I wonder if she still has it… But it′s an idea. Something personal.”

  She pockets a note of inspiration - an idea for the gift. Then suddenly Trel’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Michelle? You in there?”

  Michelle barely had time to react before diving under the bed. The door opened. Trel stepped inside, frowning.

  “…Weird,” she murmured. “I could’ve sworn I heard something.”

  From under the bed, Michelle’s comm clicked softly. “Abort, abort,” she whispered. “I’m under the bed with dust bunnies the size of Anya’s ego.”

  Anya’s voice crackled back. “Rude, but accurate.”

  ***

  The evening before the birthday party the girls were quietly sneaking decorations into the common room when Trel walked in, yawning.

  “…What are you all doing up so te?”

  They freeze. A single balloon squeaks as Aiko tries to hide it behind her back.

  “Uh…” Aya said. “Ghost hunting.”

  Trel stared. “At midnight. With party streamers.”

  “Fashionable ghosts.”

  Trel narrows her eyes, then shrugs and leaves.

  As soon as she was gone—

  “She totally knows,” Aya whispered.

  “No,” Michelle replied grimly. “She’s letting us think she knows. That’s worse.”

  ***

  Everything was finally ready. The cake stood intact—miraculously edible. Decorations are ready. Gifts were wrapped with uneven edges but genuine care. The girls stood together, tired and quiet, admiring the result.

  “You think she’ll like it?” Anya asked softly.

  “I think she’ll remember it,” Michelle said.

  “Where do we put the cake so she doesn′t find it?” Maya asked.

  “How about my pce?” Michelle suggested. “She won′t be sniffing in our fridge… Now we just need to get her out of the house long enough to set up everything!”

  Anya smiled slow and dangerous. “Leave that to me. It’s shopping day.”

  They exchanged tired smiles like sisters after a perfect operation.

  ***

  Soft sunlight filtered through the freshly cleaned windows, catching on streamers and hand-drawn banners that swayed gently in the air. At the center of the room, a cake waited on the table. Slightly lopsided, unevenly frosted, but unmistakably made with care. The girls were hiding. Badly. Aya’s hair stuck out from behind the couch. Liza crouched behind the cake itself, frosting smeared on her nose. Katya slipped down from her self-appointed “observation nest,” whispering urgently that Trel and Anya were almost at the house. The front door opened.

  “Surprise!!!”

  Trel froze in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, she let go of the grocery bags and her hands twitched instinctively toward the pce where a weapon would normally be.

  “What the—?!”

  Michelle stepped forward, grinning. “Happy birthday, Trel.”

  Trel blinked, clearly caught off guard. “…You… you knew?”

  “It took a week-long covert operation and a near kitchen fire,” Aya said. “But yeah.”

  Liza lifted the cake proudly. “It’s edible! Probably…”

  Laughter exploded through the room. Even Trel ughed. An unguarded smile, free of her usual sharp sarcasm.

  The party is small, cozy, chaotic. Samira pys music on her tablet, Mei-Ling dances like a maniac, Aya keeps refilling everyone’s gsses with lemonade and Maya sits smugly with a slice of cake bigger than her pte. Trel watches them, her guard slowly melting. For once, her posture isn’t perfect. She’s rexed. Michelle steps forward, holding a small, wrapped box.

  “We all chipped in,” she said. “Something that’s just for you.”

  Trel hesitates, then takes it. She unwraps it carefully. Inside was a small silver locket on a delicate chain and a framed photo of the entire team, together at the sanctuary. Someone (probably Aya) drew little cartoon hearts above everyone’s heads. And down an inscription: Always with you, sis!

  Trel just stares at it. The sharp edge in her eyes softened, repced by something vulnerable and unguarded.

  “You idiots…” she murmured.

  “Yeah,” Aiko said lightly. “But we’re your idiots.”

  Trel’s voice trembled just a little. “No one ever… did something like this for me.”

  Michelle pced a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Then it’s about time someone did.”

  Trel put the locket on immediately. Her eyes glistened, but she covered it with a familiar smirk. “Alright. Fine. You got me emotional. Don’t get used to it.”

  “Too te,” Aya said. “And I’m telling everyone.”

  The room bursts into ughter again. Trel rolls her eyes but smiles and for the first time in forever, she looks truly at peace. The chaos of wrapping paper and half-eaten cake fills the air. Trel is still dazed, ughing more than she has in months. Mei is snapping pictures on her phone, Aya’s mock-threatening to post them all and Amelie’s quietly sipping her juice, watching with her trademark smirk. Just as the ughter settles, Michelle’s phone buzzes on the table. A request for a video call.

  “Oh no,” Aya groaned. “That’s Lang, isn’t it?”

  “She’s going to assign us a mission right now,” Mei-Ling muttered. “I can feel it.”

  Michelle just smiled. “You think so?”

  Michelle connects the call to the big screen. The feed flickers. It wasn′t Lang. Yael appeared instead, smiling warmly, with Marina and Marisa squeezed in beside her.

  “Hey there, birthday girl.”

  “Feliz aniversário, Trel!” Marina and Marisa said together.

  Trel froze. She blinked, then covered her mouth as tears welled up instantly.

  “You guys… you knew?”

  “Of course we did,” Yael said. “Michelle gave us the idea. Said you deserved to be reminded that you’re loved too.”

  “And next year,” Marina said, “cake’s on us.”

  “Big one!” Marisa added.

  Trel’s voice cracks; she ughs through the tears, shaking her head. “You’re all insane… all of you.”

  “Maybe,” Michelle said softly. “But you’re family.”

  The others fall quiet for a moment — that rare, honest silence that says more than words. Trel just nods, unable to speak, the smile trembling on her lips.

  ***Later that evening, the party wound down. The music softened. Lights dimmed. The girls sat scattered around the room, full of cake and contentment. Trel gnces around the room — Michelle, Aya, Liza, Mei-Ling… all ughing quietly together.

  “…Guess this is what family feels like,” she whispered.

  She touched the locket, closed her eyes, and smiled faintly as the moment faded.

  At night the house has gone still. The st of the ughter has faded down the hall. Empty cups and crumpled ribbons are all that remain of the chaos. Trel sat alone by the window, her jacket draped over her shoulders, the faint light of the moon catching the edges of her hair. She still wears the bracelet Michelle gave her. A simple, personal gift that somehow feels heavier than any medal she’s ever earned.

  On her desk lies a small card from Yael and the twins, with a shaky line in Portuguese written by hand: Para nossa irm? de batalha. Nunca sozinha. She ran her thumb over the words and breathed out slowly. Her expression softens. The steel in her eyes was repced by something warmer, more fragile.

  “Never alone… huh?”

  She leaned back and closed her eyes. For the first time in a long while, her guard was completely down—no missions, no orders, no ghosts from the past. Just a small circle of people who had chosen her. And as she drifts toward sleep, the faintest smile remains.

  ***

  The next morning, sunlight poured through the kitchen curtains. The girls are gathered around the table, half-asleep, hair a mess, cereal bowls scattered everywhere. Trel walks in, fresh and calm, sipping coffee.

  “Oh, look,” Aya said, grinning. “Emotionally stable Trel.”

  “We were worried you’d short-circuit from all that human contact,” Mei-Ling added.

  “Or melt into a puddle,” Amelie said. “Either way—ten out of ten performance.”

  Trel raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.

  Trel raised an eyebrow. “You’re all hirious.”

  “Hey, don’t bme us,” Michelle said innocently. “I didn’t know you could cry that much.”

  Trel gres at her.

  Trel shot her a gre. “I didn’t cry. There was just… smoke in the air.”

  “Sure. Must’ve been that emotional smoke from your feelings,” Aya said.

  Everyone bursts out ughing, even Trel, who shakes her head, smiling despite herself.

  “You deserved a real birthday,” Michelle said softly once the noise died down.

  Trel gnces around the table. Her eyes linger on each of them — the chaos, the ughter, the warmth. And this time, no words are needed. She just smiles. A quiet, honest smile.