Xaviers!

Some time after Miriam's windfall and just after sunset, her phone begins ringing with a blocked number.

Miriam stretches as she sits up on the luxurious bed in her new penthouse, the window of the bedroom sealed. Not quite as comfortable as Will's capsule, but occasionally she needed to send her out on errands during the day. She reaches for her phone and answers without thinking to check who it could be.

"Yes?" she mumbles groggily.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" The voice was certainly familiar and laced with anger.

And just like that Miriam is wide-awake.

"Alessia? To what do I owe the honors? I thought you'd bailed."

"Someone in London emptied my UBS accounts and the only person I know of who could have convinced that manager that it was me doing it is you. You know, there are other ways to get my attention and if you wanted more money, all you needed to do was ask."

"What are you talking about? Somebody stole your money? I feel flattered you think I could pull that off, but I'm pretty sure they have stricter security measures than someone walking in and asking real nicely."

"Don't play ignorant with me, Miriam. I've just had to convince the Inner Council that taking your blood would be a waste. Don't make me wish I had let them have their way."

The advantage of being dead is that she can just stop breathing altogether to collect herself and keep her voice steady before opening her mouth again. Proof or cleverness wouldn't really matter if Alessia decided to come after her, would it?

"Look, I don't know what is going on and you're obviously upset, but I don't appreciate you taking it out on me with these threats."

"Fine. Continue to play ignorant. I was hoping you'd have the good sense to come clean. The loss of the money is an insult, especially when we tried to provide for you, but we've spun the generous donations in our favor, so the actual harm was not as bad as it could have been. But you seem intent on repeating my grandfather's failing of grasping for too much too quickly."

"Let me make something clear for you, Alessia. I don't need your pity, be it in the form of those poor girls you send to my doorstep or by making myself dependent on your trustfund. You've taken enough from me already." Miriam snaps at her.

"You thought that was pity? Pity would have been giving you the phone number of the local blood bank and just enough money to pay rent at a hostel. What I did was provide for you. Given enough time, I could have arranged to bring you to Italy. You've nearly hopelessly complicated that now."

"I'm so sorry that somebody threw a wrench into the plans you were making for me."

"You could have gone somewhere else. We have family in other places. I just thought you might have liked to be with me again."

"After what happened? You have some nerve, Alessia."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Once I found out what my grandfather had done, I called in some favors and got the permissions I needed and then I dealt with him personally." Something about the way she says that makes something deep inside Miriam shudder, if only for a moment. "I had to leave so abruptly because your 'friends' would not have taken time to sort out collaborators from those of us who were in the dark. I did the best I could for you under the circumstances and was intending to do more."

"I let you sway me once. It's not happening again. You've done plenty for me already, thanks."

Alessia either couldn't or chose not to hide the disappointment in her voice. "I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you'd be willing to be by my side now that I'm in charge."

"I'm doing just fine by myself, thanks. I don't speak Italian anyway." she says in that overly polite tone that's obviously meant to be rude.

"I'll give the Council your regards then. Enjoy your life, vaffanculo," she says in an overly sweet tone. The call ends.

Miriam can tell when she's being insulted, even if she doesn't speak the language. "Good riddance." she mumbles at the phone in her hand, then seems to realize something as she stares at it. "Bloody hell!" She drops the phone as if it bit her and drives the heel of her foot down on it repeatedly until it cracks. She swiftly kneels down to pick it up and pry it apart entirely with her hands, fishing out the SIM card and snapping it in half.