Furious shouts pierced the night air, pale-colored banners and signs flashing like knives in the darkness.  Swastikas, each with a red eye on either side, were more numerous than the hundreds of people encroaching on the Euclaw Manor.  Some cried for justice.  Others roared for hatred.  But every person present bayed for Cheney blood.

“Papa!” Dante shouted as he raced down the regal halls, chasing his father’s back.  “Papa, please!  You cannot let them do this!”

“I do not have a choice, Dante.  The people out there will not leave until we give them what they want.”

“You’re really going to let those monsters do this?!” he spat.  “Where is your humanity, Papa?!”

“The only monsters are the ones in this house,” Giovanni replied with an astounding calmness.

“That’s just it!  There are no monsters in this house, just out there!”

Giovanni’s dark brown eyes were dull with defeat.  “If handing the Cheneys over will protect our family, then that is what I shall do.”

“But they have children!  You’re damning children to death!”

“I will no longer harbor those creatures and their devil’s spawn in my house, and that is final, Dante!  Final!”

Anger rising in his throat, blood pounding in his ears, Dante swerved past his father and sprinted down the hall.  Rounding a corner, he ducked through the fire escape door and half-leaped, half-fell up the stairs.  He reached the Cheneys’ door and pounded on it so fiercely his hands stung.

“Many!” he shouted.  “Many, wake up!”

“Dante.”  Emanuel opened the door, his scarlet eyes stressed.  “How bad is it?”

“There must be at least five hundred people out there.  They’re covered in the symbol.  You have to pack up and go.  Now.”  Dante’s throat tightened.  “My father is planning on giving you up to the mob!”

“We won’t give them the chance,” Emanuel replied calmly.  Almadi came to stand by his side, her red eyes sharp.

“They want us?” she growled.  “Then they’ll get us, and they’ll get more of us than they ever bargained for.”

“Please, Madi, don’t fight!” Dante pleaded.  “You’re in enough danger already!”

“He’s right, ahuvati sheli.”  Emanuel pressed a gentle kiss to his wife’s cheek.  “We can do nothing but get out fast.”

“Aba-san?  What’s going on?”

Dante’s heart ached as Emma and Sharqiq shuffled into view, Sharqiq quietly clinging to his older sister’s waist.

“We’re leaving, little ones,” Emanuel said softly.  “We’ll explain on the way.  Gather your things, quickly.”

“I wish I could do more for you,” Dante whispered as the children retreated back into the room, “but I can’t.”

“We know you did your best,” Emanuel soothed.  “We couldn’t ask for more.  Sharqiq, Emma – it’s time to go.”

Dante struggled to think as his closest friends and their children gathered up what little they could take with them.  He led them down the stairs he’d sprinted up, his vision starting to blur.  The whole situation felt surreal.  As they left the exquisite Manor through the fire escape door, a maelstrom of hatred bombarded them.  Emanuel and Almadi each scooped up a child and raced for their car, Dante following with their belongings.  Sharqiq let out a squeal as he dropped his teddy bear.  There was no time to grab it before a man lunged forward and shot it until the soft plush toy was reduced to scraps of flat fabric and fluff.  Sharqiq let out a wail that somehow seemed to transcend the whirl of fury around them.

“There they are!”

“Destroy them!”

“Kill the Cheneys!”

“Get the children!”

The mob formed a circle around the Cheneys, moonlight glinting off their guns and signs.  Dante let out a cry of protest as a woman aimed a gun at Emma and Sharqiq.  Quick as lightning, Emanuel and Almadi threw themselves in front of their children and drew their swords.  Fire and moonlight glinted off the pristine metal as if in some sort of cosmic dance.

“Leave my children alone, you heartless bastards!” Almadi spat as she whipped one of her swords through the air, driving the mob backward.

“We’re leaving!” Emanuel yelled.  “Just let us get to our car!”

“Let them through!” Dante wailed.  “They’re going, just like you want!”

“Dante!”  He stiffened at his father’s stern voice.  “Come back here.  This is not your place.”

The cutting tone barred all protest.  Casting one last anguished look over his shoulder, Dante trudged to his father’s side.  A path had cleared, letting Emanuel and his family rush to their car.  Almadi shoved her children into the backseat, their material possessions forgotten, while Emanuel stood guard.  The gold-and-red dragons on his swords seemed to leap off the metal, ready to shred and defend.  Without warning, a blistering crack exploded, drowning out the bawls of the mob.  Dante let out a strangled cry of shock as the car burst into flame.  Almadi roared with rage and threw herself into the car, pulling her panicking – but unhurt – children free of the flame.  The Cheneys huddled on the street beside their inflamed car, swords still brandished.  Unable to stand the sight, Dante ducked away from his father’s grip and raced for his own car.  He whipped it around and sped toward the Cheneys, not caring if he ran any of the mob over.  His chest hit the steering wheel when he braked.

“Get in!” he spat.  The doors snapped open and the Cheney children hurled themselves inside.  Almadi darted into the passenger’s seat as Dante stumbled out, coming face-to-face with Emanuel Cheney himself.  “Let me come with you,” he gasped.  “Many, you’re my best friend; I can’t lose you, not like this!”

“Not a chance.”  Emanuel’s voice softened.  “Listen to me:  you will always be my brother.  No amount of time or distance will destroy that.  And I will never blame you for this.  I may never see you again in this lifetime, my friend, but know that I will always remember you and what you have done for my family.”

“But, Many–”

“You wouldn’t survive a day outside the Manor, Dante.”

“But–!”

“No!”  Emanuel gripped Dante’s shoulders, his ruby eyes blazing with compassion.  “I will not let you follow me into Hell!”

And with that final shout, he pushed past Dante and into the car.

Dante felt something inside him snap as the engine revved to life.  The young billionaire watched, horror and loss blurring his vision, as his closest friends fled the hatred around them.  For a moment, the world fell away, until all that was left was his overwhelming grief.

As Emanuel sped his family from the bloodthirsty cries at the Euclaw Manor, he felt tears prick his eyes.  His children were cowering in the backseat, too stunned to cry; his wife was glowering, her red eyes sparking with anger.

“I can’t believe we let them chase us off,” she growled as she fiddled with her retracted sword.  “We should’ve fought for our right to stay at the Manor, Many!”

“If it was just us, I would’ve considered it.  But we have children, Almadi, and we couldn’t risk their lives.  You know that,” he murmured with a sideways glance at her.  “And you also know that there’s no way we would’ve escaped unharmed if we tried to fight.  We barely got out as it is.”

Almadi huffed, unimpressed.  As she drew breath to reply, Sharqiq began to whimper for his lost teddy bear.  Almadi leaned over and stroked her son’s cheek with a sympathetic murmur.

“It’s okay, baby…  I know you’re sad, but we had to leave him behind.  If we went back for him, we could’ve gotten very, very hurt.”

“I miss him!” Sharqiq sobbed.

“I know…  Believe me, I know.”

Emanuel felt his heart ache as Emma began to cry too.  The sound of his terrified, shell-shocked children was almost too much to bear.  His vision blurred as he drove.  Almadi reached over and kissed his cheek then climbed into the backseat to comfort their children.  They immediately reached for their mother, simpering.

“Aba-san?” Emma whispered from her mother’s chest.  “Why did they make us leave?  Don’t they like us anymore?”

“Oh, Emma…  They never liked us.”  Emanuel’s heart ached as he spoke the heart-breaking truth.  “Except for your Uncle Dante, and maybe a few others.”

“If they liked us, why did we have to leave?” Emma pressed.

“Because more people hate us than like us.”  Almadi’s voice was bitter.  “And there are enough indifferent people to let the hateful people win.”

“Why don’t people like us?” Sharqiq asked, his voice raspy from crying.

“Because the most popular people – the ones most others listen to – only like people like themselves:  rich, white, European Christians.  We’re not any of that.  We have the Cheney Curse too, so there’s…  Well, there’s a lot to not like about us.”

“Oh.”  Emma was struggling to understand.  “But we didn’t start the Curse.  We didn’t ask for it.  So we’re not evil…  are we?”

“No, Emma…” Almadi crooned as she cradled her daughter against her.  “We aren’t evil, honey.  People just don’t like us.”

“But Uncle Dante likes us,” Sharqiq whispered.  His voice seemed unnaturally loud and heavy in the quiet car.  “Doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”  Emanuel’s voice broke.  “Yes, he does.  Dante is proof that even though there are lots of bad people in this world, there is always someone good.  He has been my brother since we first met all those years ago, and he will be my brother now.  You can always rely on him to stand up for us.  Never forget that.”