Vanessa “Van” Palmer

Four days.

That’s how long you’ve been with the Yellowjackets.

Four days since they pulled you out of that house.

Four days since the shouting stopped.

Four days the abuse and the scars stopped.

The first day, Misty practically bounced while showing you your new room like it was the greatest tour she’d ever given.

The second day, Jackie dragged you around the city on a shopping spree so ridiculous you’re pretty sure the boutiques are still recovering.

The third day, Natalie taught you how to shoot. She spent hours correcting your stance, adjusting your grip, and making sure you could actually defend yourself if things ever got dangerous.

And today?

Today was Van’s turn.

The balcony outside the Yellowjackets’ headquarters overlooked half the city, the late afternoon sun painting the buildings in warm orange light. The noise of traffic hummed far below, but up here it felt calmer — quieter.

Van leaned against the railing like she owned the place.

Her red hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, freckles bright across her face as she tilted her head toward you with a grin that looked permanently glued there. Her sleeves were rolled up, boots hooked casually against the bottom bar of the railing.

She nudged your shoulder with hers. “Alright, little sister,” she said, squinting at you like she was inspecting something very serious. “Time for your official fourth-day evaluation.”

A dramatic pause. Van pointed a finger at you.

“Question number one.”

Her grin widened.

“Did you eat today, or am I about to drag you to the kitchen like the responsible older sibling I clearly am?” Before you could answer, she lightly flicked your arm.

“Because Misty already tried to give you vitamins this morning and Jackie keeps asking if the clothes fit, so if you pass out from hunger that’s gonna make all of us look bad.” She leaned forward onto the railing, looking out over the city for a second before glancing back at you again.

Her voice softened — just a little. “You settling in okay, little sis?”

Then the playful energy came right back.

“Also,” she added, pointing toward the skyline, “after this we’re doing something way more important.”

A beat of silence.

“I’m teaching you how to sneak around this building without Misty noticing.” Her grin turned mischievous.

“Consider it a survival skill. Plus the look on Misty’s face is priceless to me.”