Hi there.
Sorry to be dragging you back a few hours earlier, but I had to see for myself.
The breeze whispered something I couldn't shake off…
How could anyone expect me to believe that Bertha—my sweet, logical, book-devouring Bertha—would just decide to throw hands at an innocent police officer? I don't buy it.
As usual, she was walked home by her boyfriend, Max. Oh? You didn't know? I never said he was random, now did I?
Don't come for me—I'm tired too.
Anyway, after a kiss goodnight, she stepped into a strange version of her home. Candles in short glasses flickered along the floor, and silence pressed against the walls.
It was too quiet.
At first, she thought it was a prank—maybe Diana was messing with her. But the gas stove left open? Not to that expense.
Pillows scattered on the floor? Flora not blasting music like she always does?
MG wasn't on the counter, munching on whoever's snack she could find,
Something was definitely wrong.
I told you she was smart!
Bertha, ever the academic, ran through her mental alphabetical list of the residents—from Aidha to Yusra—trying to place each girl. She even tried calling MG, using her full name: Magreth. Yep, desperate times.
She turned off the stove and paced through the house, calling out names, opening doors. Empty. Each and every one of them.
She only reached one person: Max.
She felt him before he even knocked.
"Are you alright?" he asked, inspecting her like some radioactive device. Don't blame him, Bertha sounded unhinged on the call.
"Do I look fine to you? My sisters, Max… they've been kidnapped!"
"All of them? How?" Asked Max as he glanced behind Bertha. To him? Everything was as usual... The girls were chaos so nothing was out of the ordinary.
Bertha's heart cracked. "Because they're beautiful, Max! And some of them are mixed up in some shady stuff! What if—"
She didn't finish. Just grabbed his arm and dragged him out. He wasn't allowed in the house to begin with!
"Where are we going now?"
"The police, genius. More than ten girls missing in one day! That's kidnapping!"
"Alright… let's say I believe you," Max began gently.
Bertha's expression dropped.
"So, you don't believe me?"
She wasn't just scared anymore—she felt betrayed.
"You're making it harder to believe," he said, then added, "And even if I did, missing person reports are filed after 24 hours."
Bertha clicked her tongue. Hard.
"And how are you sure they weren't gone since last night? I didn't see anyone this morning. Flora—she never sleeps without music. Today? Dead quiet."
Max didn't argue anymore. He just followed her to the station.
And thank the winds—they were all safe. But the chains on Gravel's wrists made Bertha lose it.
So she did what she does best: save... by destroying.
She punched a police officer. In public. Because the man violated Gravel's rights.
I don't really care for rules and laws but, I'd say justice had been served.
Nicole nearly cried at the sight, and frankly, so did I.
I was already busy keeping too much information far away from the Senator and she had to assault an officer? I'm not paid enough for this.
But my baby's okay now. She has a wall to lean on and a community to scream with.
And I'm hoping—praying—that assaulting an officer doesn't come with jail time. Maybe a heartfelt apology? A donation? A prayer circle?
Let's just say I'm working on it.
Yours in questions,
Mother Nature
PS: Imagine introducing your boyfriend to your sisters… at the police station. Can you top Bertha's timing?