IV

### Isa Valentina, November Jensen, Echo Taylor

I’m not sure what sort of moral code you would expect the daughter of two reformed assassins to have – but whatever you guessed, I can assure you Isa didn’t have it.

        Isa Valentina was born a few years after her father, November Jensen, switched from cutting people up (aka assassin) to cutting people open (aka surgeon). Isa’s mother, Echo Taylor, had a slightly different story. Once known as the infamous Arlington’s Assassin, Echo wasn’t really given a choice when her life took a different direction. The combination of a hit gone wrong, a trap, and a traitor, resulted in Echo receiving the death penalty – not the electric chair, or lethal injection or such, but rather she was sent to a death camp, you know, the kind the government claims doesn't exist. Echo struck a deal with the government, using tactics only known to her, and once she had earned her freedom, the former assassins decided to settle down and try to start an at least somewhat normal life for their baby girl.

        Isa was blessed, or perhaps cursed, with her parent’s arrogance, her father’s knack for manipulation and her mother’s vanity. She didn’t only get their, what you might consider bad traits, but also their confidence, fearlessness, and strong sense of self-preservation. She knew what she wanted and how - and she went and got it.

On the outside, you probably wouldn’t be able to pick Isa out of a crowd of blond haired, blue eyed girls. Despite being dressed in gorgeous clothing, fit for a queen really, she never went through the typical princess phase like most little girls. This partially had to do with her disdain at the notation of a damsel in distress, and partially, though she wasn’t aware at the time, a secret in her mother’s past.

        Her parents bought her dolls, like any other parent might, but didn’t bat an eye when she ripped off their head or limbs. Dolls stabbed or strangled lying around the house were not an uncommon occurrence. Some dolls suffered this such fate, while others got pretty dresses and delicately braided hair. Tea parties could turn deadly without a moment’s notice if Isa felt so inclined.

        It wasn’t that there were two sides to this odd little girl. No black and white, good and evil, but rather a mix of fashion and mutilation, beauty and poison.

        Isa was her daddy’s little demon, a nickname most children would despise, but Isa embraced it completely. Rules, she was taught, were more like suggestions, and lying was only bad, if you got caught.

        Neither of her parents really had any idea how to raise a child. They had both been kidnapped at the age of ten, and spent the rest of their childhood enduring brutal training and vicious beatings, leaving behind a glimmer of comfort from their lives before.

        The two assassins were well-versed in masking while in public, but at home, they felt no need for the filter(?). The real world was tough, and their daughter had to be prepared, but they wanted to keep her from experiencing it first-hand for as long as they could. Their bodies may be covered in scars, but they would do everything in their power so their daughter’s didn’t have to be.

For the first five years or so of her life, Isa only really interacted with her parents and a few of their acquaintances from their life at the Assassin's Den (both current and former). As her parents integrated more into the real world, or what you might consider, normality, Isa stayed tucked away in a safe bubble.

Isa’s first experience around other children her own age was when she was enrolled in preschool. Yes, even assassins’ daughters need an education. She had been taught that in some circumstances it was important to filter one’s language - both words and conversation topics, and Isa had had opportunities prior to practice, like when she went to the park with her father or her Aunt Sierra or when her mother took her to the library.

November and Echo received calls from the school on various occasions over the years, to discuss Isa’s, what you might call, improper topics of conversation or her strong language, as the principal had politely put it. Apparently, how long it takes to bleed out or all the possible uses of a garrote, were not considered appropriate classroom conversation. By the age of 5, Isa knew more curse words than most know at all.