Listening to Larissa Weems’s speech, Alex mentally noted that the Nevermore headmistress was smart enough not to mention him and Dean as federal agents on duty. Instead, she presented them as ordinary passersby who just happened to be in the right place at the right time and prevented a possible tragedy involving one of the academy’s students.

It was the right decision.

Alex briefly shifted his gaze to Eugene’s two mothers. Both women were looking at him with open gratitude — without words, but that was more than enough. Alex responded with a polite, restrained smile and refocused on Weems’s speech, which had already moved on to the usual, well-rehearsed part about Nevermore’s values and the importance of Parents’ Day.

At that moment, only two thoughts existed in Dean’s head.

The first was to find the bastard controlling the Darkness.

The second was to get to the buffet as fast as possible and eat properly.

Losing almost an entire week due to his injuries irritated him. But Alex had already explained that during that time nothing suspicious had happened in Nevermore or Jericho, as if the main enemy had chosen to lie low after the failure of their plans.

Alex, meanwhile, was not looking at Weems. His attention was drawn to Marilyn Thornhill, standing among the teachers slightly behind the headmistress.

He barely restrained a smirk as he watched Marilyn continue to play the role of a timid, kind biology teacher. The mask fit perfectly — too perfectly. But Alex saw more.

Her gaze. It was fixed on the Addams family. More precisely — on Gomez and Morticia.

In Marilyn’s eyes swirled malice and a thirst for revenge, completely unhidden. And that was hardly surprising. Garrett Gates had died precisely because of them. The longer Alex watched her, the more insistently one thought returned. The British Men of Letters.

Too many coincidences. Too clean a cover. Her knowledge of poisonous plants, the perfect backstory, the flawlessly staged death of Laurel Gates — none of it looked like the work of a lone individual without resources or support.

Alex knew that Marilyn hadn’t received any serious inheritance after her family’s death. The money she had clearly wouldn’t have been enough for an operation like this — covering tracks, changing identities, international travel.

Someone had helped her.

In the original timeline, Alex remembered that after the Amara incident, an auditor from the British Men of Letters arrived in America with a single goal: to decide whether Sam and Dean should be allowed to live or be removed from the board.

The British had long been sharpening their teeth at America. They dreamed of taking it under control and carrying out a total purge of everything supernatural.

And Nevermore Academy was a thorn in their side.

A school where outcasts, monsters, werewolves, and everything the Order considered unacceptable were taught.

The picture came together almost perfectly.

Use Marilyn — a woman blinded by hatred and a thirst for revenge. Test the waters. See how far they could go without drawing attention. And in case of failure, turn her death into a pretext for retaliatory measures, hiding behind “justice” and the need to destroy supernatural beings.

Alex knew people like that. He was one hundred percent sure. The only force capable of pushing back against the British Order was the Federal Bureau of Control. They definitely wouldn’t allow such lawlessness.

And yet, a far more radical plan began to form in Alex’s mind. To strike first. Simply erase the British Men of Letters from the face of the earth.

The thought of an evening visit to Britain and a large-scale massacre seemed almost… calming.

But his thoughts were suddenly interrupted. Someone hugged him. Alex blinked in surprise, lowered his gaze, and saw Enid’s light-colored hair. Lifting his eyes, he noticed Dean, Garth, and Bess watching him closely.

“Finally snapped out of it,” Dean smirked. “You were standing there like a statue for several minutes and not reacting to anything at all. Or should I have hugged you earlier?”

“Oh, piss off,” Alex muttered, rolling his eyes. “What did I miss?”

“Principal Weems finished her speech,” Enid said with a smile. “And you were staring at one spot the whole time.”

“Ah, I see…” Alex shrugged. “That happens sometimes.”

“And what were you thinking about so deeply?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing special,” Alex replied lazily. “Just wondering whether I should fly to Britain tonight and kill a few people there.”

“You… want to kill the Queen?” Garth blurted out in shock, staring at him.

Alex stared at Garth with an empty look. At the same moment, Dean, Bess, and Enid also looked at him — because of Garth’s stupid question — and then shifted their gaze back to Alex.

Alex genuinely couldn’t understand how such an assumption had even formed in Garth’s head. Even Enid was looking at him thoughtfully, as if allowing for the possibility that he really might be capable of something like that. And the strangest part was that even Dean was looking at Alex as though such a scenario were actually possible.

“And why would I want to kill that sweet old lady?” Alex asked with a completely blank expression.

“That’s for you to tell us,” Dean smirked. “What did that sweet old lady do to piss you off so much that you decided to off her?”

“I’m not going to kill the Queen of Britain,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “She’s not some kind of monster who feeds on people, sucking out their youth just to sit on the throne a little longer.”

Dean looked at him in a way that clearly said: I don’t believe you. In response, Alex merely gave a small wave of his hand, signaling that they would have something to talk about later.

Noticing the seriousness of that gesture, Dean frowned slightly but nodded anyway. No one except the two of them noticed this subtle exchange.

Enid was hugging Alex’s arm with a wide smile on her face, and he smiled back at her without even thinking. Bess watched her niece, seeing how inspired and happy she looked. After a short conversation with Alex, Bess had already come to understand that he truly was a good young man.

Garth, meanwhile, noticed that Alex and Dean behaved almost like brothers. He immediately recalled Dean’s words about their family having “grown.” Because of that, Garth decided that if Dean trusted Alex, then he could safely leave Enid in his reliable hands. And Enid’s own words about how Alex had supported her from the very beginning became yet another strong argument.

Alex, Dean, and Garth chatted about various things related to hunting, while Enid and Bess simply listened to their conversation.

“Alex, can I ask you something?” Enid suddenly spoke up. “How do you know my uncle?”

“Garth and I worked together for a while,” Dean answered for him.

“Enid, I’ve already told you about the famous Dean and Sam Winchesters,” Garth added with a smile.

Enid’s eyes widened as she stared at Dean. At that moment, Dean found himself wondering exactly what Garth might have told her about him.

Alex laughed when he noticed the expression on Enid’s face. He could easily guess what kind of stories Garth might have shared. Among hunters, there were plenty of legends about the Winchester brothers — both good ones and downright grim ones.

They said they were impossible to kill. That they always got out of any mess. And that, for some reason, people around them kept dying. It was no surprise that many hunters tried to keep as far away from Dean and Sam as possible.

As he continued spending time with Enid and her relatives, Alex asked why her parents hadn’t come over yet. In response, Enid wrinkled her nose slightly and silently pointed in that direction.

Alex immediately spotted Enid’s parents — and, of course, her brothers. Shifting his gaze from them back to Enid, he couldn’t help but ask himself the obvious question:

“How the hell did she turn out normal in a family like that?”

Even Dean couldn’t stop himself from thinking the same thing as he watched Enid’s brothers behave like stray dogs on the street.

“Listen, kid,” he said. “I don’t want to offend you, but… maybe you’re the normal one in your family, not everyone else.”

He nodded toward the rest of her relatives.

“Well… they’re just… like that…” Enid muttered, clearly unsure how to put it into words.

“If your mother thinks that kind of behavior is normal,” Alex said lazily, “then you wouldn’t mind if I went over there and hit her on the head with a stick, right? Maybe it’d knock some sense into her.”

Enid blinked in confusion, not knowing how to react.

“Go ahead,” Bess said calmly. “I give you permission. Even though Esther married my brother, when it comes to raising children, she prefers tradition instead of learning how to coexist among people.”

“Sounds like you don’t have the warmest relationship,” Dean remarked.

“We don’t fight,” Garth sighed, taking Bess by the hand. “It’s just that Esther is constantly pressuring Enid because she can’t turn into a wolf during the full moon.”

“I’ll decide for myself when I transform!” Enid protested, sticking her chest out proudly. “I’m a werewolf, not a lapdog.”

“That’s right,” Alex nodded, gently stroking her hair. “So have more faith in yourself. You are who you are. And this is your life.”

He smiled slightly.

“As a friend of mine once said: you are a child of this universe just like everyone else. You deserve to stand here on equal ground with them.”

Enid smiled at Alex’s words and, without hiding it, leaned into his hand.

At that moment, Dean, Garth, and Bess were all looking at Alex in stunned silence. His face was surprisingly soft and serene as he spoke those words.

Garth studied Alex with obvious amazement — he was genuinely impressed that someone so young could speak with such wisdom and precision.

Dean, on the other hand, was surprised for just a moment before he simply smiled and shook his head. It wasn’t easy to surprise him with Alex’s actions or words anymore — he’d seen and heard things like this before.

The conversation quickly returned to its usual flow, but it was interrupted by the sound of an incoming message.

Alex took his phone out of his pocket and saw a message from Jesse. After quickly scanning the text, he smiled and gave a slight nod, as if everything was indeed going exactly according to plan.

“What is it?” Dean asked, noticing his reaction.

“It’s Jesse. I need to talk to Larissa Weems…” Alex began, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

“Ah, all that bureaucracy again. Count me out,” Dean waved it off.

Alex looked at him with a blank stare, but Dean met it with the same calm expression, making it clear that he had no intention of getting involved in anything like that — especially if it involved paperwork and official meetings.

Sighing, Alex shook his head and headed toward Larissa Weems’s office.

As he walked through the inner courtyard, he noticed that Wednesday and her parents were nowhere in sight. That could only mean one thing — they were already in the director’s office.

Alex knew perfectly well that the relationship between Larissa and Morticia was far from friendly, despite the outward politeness, smiles, and courteous phrases. The source of this hidden rivalry was a long-standing competition — including a battle for Gomez Addams’s attention, which Larissa had lost long ago.

Thinking about this love triangle from the past, Alex could barely suppress a smile.

As he walked away, Garth and Bess looked at Dean, who remained standing in place.

“So, who’s Jesse?” Garth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“The director of the Bureau we’re currently working with,” Dean replied calmly.

“And how did you and Sam even manage to become federal agents?” Garth asked, a question that had been bothering him for a long time.

Dean thought for a moment and decided to explain. There was nothing truly extraordinary in the story — except for a few details better left unsaid.

While Dean explained how he had officially become an agent of the Federal Bureau of Control, Alex was already climbing the steps toward Larissa Weems’s office.

Reaching the door, he could hear the voices of Morticia and Larissa from inside. Both women were exchanging barbs, cleverly disguised as friendly conversation.

For a moment, Alex considered waiting until the Addams family left the office. But recalling Jesse’s message, he decided not to delay — it was better to address these matters as early as possible.

A few days ago, Alex had already contacted Jesse and proposed that the Bureau sponsor Nevermore Academy. This would not only provide potential future employees but also expand influence through aristocratic families sending their children to the academy. Additionally, the Bureau would gain the opportunity to discreetly observe families connected to the supernatural world.

Only now had Jesse given the final approval — previously, she had needed permission from the mysterious Council.

Alex remembered well that the so-called Council was a mysterious astral entity from another dimension, which itself chooses the Bureau Director and makes them its conduit. Thinking about this, Alex made a mental note to visit the Elder House when he had free time.

Shaking off extraneous thoughts, he knocked on the door and opened it.

The moment he stepped inside, all eyes turned to him. Wednesday raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering why he had come. Gomez and Morticia smiled — they still considered Alex a potential member of the Addams family.

“What brings you here, Mr. Voldigoad?” Larissa Weems asked, her smile tight.

“My apologies for the interruption, Miss Weems. My Bureau has proposed sponsoring Nevermore Academy. If you are interested, an official representative from the Bureau will arrive to discuss the terms of the funding,” Alex said with a professional smile.

“May I ask who exactly made this proposal?” Larissa asked, instantly adopting a formal, businesslike demeanor.

“Our director, Jesse Feyden, believes that an academy like Nevermore has a right to exist — and not just one. It’s impossible to accommodate all children wishing to study among their peers in a single location,” Alex replied evenly and professionally, as if he were already in a negotiation.

Larissa Weems regarded Alex thoughtfully. Despite the cast on his arm and the eye patch, he carried himself confidently and calmly — like someone accustomed to negotiations and skilled at conducting them.

She tapped her fingers slowly on the table, considering the proposal. Larissa knew perfectly well what the Federal Bureau of Control was and what it did. Upon taking the position of Nevermore’s director, she had gained access to the relevant information. And most importantly, the Bureau inspired trust — they worked closely with the supernatural world and knew how to maintain balance.

Wednesday watched Alex closely. Hearing the name Jesse Feyden, she frowned for a moment, remembering exactly how that name was saved in his phone.

Morticia and Gomez, in turn, saw another side of Alex — focused, professional, almost cold. In work mode, he looked far older than his actual age, which was practically the same as their daughter’s.

“Agent Voldigoad, would you mind giving me a little time to think this over?” Larissa Weems finally said with a polite smile. “After all, proposals to expand the academy don’t come along every day.”

“Of course, Miss Weems,” Alex replied calmly, nodding slightly. “My partner and I are planning to stay in Jericho for a while anyway.”

Larissa nodded, fully understanding what he meant — and why it was so important for them to remain in the city.

Alex was about to leave when Wednesday suddenly grabbed his hand, not allowing him to take a step.

He gave her a warning look, clearly signaling that he wanted her to let go. He wouldn’t survive a second act of a Gomez-and-Morticia-style performance — one was more than enough.

But Wednesday simply stared back stubbornly, as if reminding him of their agreement. Then, for extra emphasis, she pulled a knife from her pocket.

A very clear hint.

Alex froze, unsure how to react. This was the first time the girl had literally threatened him to make him stay. He glanced at Larissa Weems — she gave him a tight smile, clearly indicating that she wasn’t going to intervene.

Gomez and Morticia weren’t rushing to help either. To them, what was happening seemed more like harmless intimidation, even with the knife in their daughter’s hand.

Realizing that he wouldn’t get anywhere without using force or magic, Alex sighed heavily and resigned himself.

He stood beside Wednesday, but she didn’t release his hand, making it clear: he wasn’t going anywhere. And she wasn’t going to suffer alone.

Morticia watched with approval and even nodded slightly — keeping a man required skill, and Wednesday was doing it her own way… with threats.

“I think we can now move on to more pressing matters,” Larissa Weems said calmly, putting on her gentle smile again. “Unfortunately, Wednesday’s integration isn’t going too smoothly.”

“That’s because I refuse to accept the culture of lies and denial that this school has adopted,” Wednesday replied coldly, fixing Larissa with a dark stare. “Starting with the monster that killed several people, Rowan, and everything that’s happened recently in the forest.”

The smile on Larissa’s face faltered.

Alex turned away, desperately wishing to be somewhere else. He understood why Wednesday was angry about this silence, but there was an unspoken rule: if something occurred outside the bounds of public perception, it was better not to speak of it aloud.

He had explained this to Wednesday more than once, but she still believed the truth should be known to everyone.

Alex looked at her, briefly thinking that maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her into playing the role of the girl who screams “wolf.” Although, he had to admit—Wednesday was doing that role far too well, convincing everyone around that no monster even existed.

“We taught Wednesday to speak her mind,” Gomez said with an approving smile. “And her sharp tongue can really hurt.”

“And not just her tongue… Ugh,” muttered Alex, immediately feeling a sharp jab in his side.

All eyes turned to Alex. He stood with a completely neutral expression, while Wednesday was already slipping something back into her pocket, remaining unflappable as if nothing had happened.

Alex gave her a meaningful look—the kind that silently asked: why?

In response, Wednesday gave him a cold glance, clearly signaling that he shouldn’t open his mouth and say anything foolish. Alex dramatically rolled his eyes, showing he didn’t consider his words foolish. Wednesday returned the same—empty, impenetrable gaze.

This silent exchange was observed by Gomez and Morticia, as well as Larissa Weems, whose eye was twitching with alarming regularity.

“Ahem…” Larissa cleared her throat slightly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “Wednesday’s psychologist believes she doesn’t open up during sessions. So it’s too early to talk about results.”

“And don’t expect me to open up to someone who thinks words can fix anything,” Wednesday said coldly. “If that were true, I’d already be running this world.”

“My colleague, Dr. Kinbott, and I thought it would be helpful to hold a joint family therapy session this weekend,” Larissa continued calmly, completely ignoring Wednesday’s words.

“No,” Wednesday replied instantly.

“Do I have to go too?” Alex asked, genuinely surprised.

“No one is going anywhere,” Wednesday said, giving him a warning look.

Alex just shrugged. Formally, he was her “fiancé” only in words and fully understood that this was part of one of Wednesday’s schemes.

Gomez looked thoughtful, and Morticia frowned slightly—their thoughts clearly mirrored their daughter’s: they saw no point in a family psychologist.

“Expected reaction, Wednesday,” Larissa said with a slight smile. “But I’m confident your parents will support my proposal.”

“Larissa, dear,” Morticia said softly, “not to defend Wednesday, but we won’t be here long.”

“Oh, my dear, why not?” Gomez perked up. “Honestly, I’m a big fan of mind-bending therapy.”

“That’s a different kind of mind-bending, mon chéri,” Morticia cooled his enthusiasm.

“Is that so? How disappointing…” Gomez sighed but then nodded. “But for my daughter, I’m ready for anything.”

Alex listened to this exchange, staring at the ceiling and lost in his own thoughts. When Gomez gave his consent, Alex felt Wednesday squeeze his hand tighter. He looked down and met her eyes—cold, sharp, displeased.

Of course, he thought mentally.

He wanted to wish her luck with the family therapy session but knew perfectly well: if he said even one word, the knife would find his side again.

This is my chance to leave, Alex decided. I won’t survive a second Kinbott session.

“Well, in that case… I guess it’s time for me to go,” he said, cautiously trying to free his hand.

“Alex, darling,” Gomez smiled, “you’re practically family. You should go too.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Alex began, frantically searching for an excuse.

“You’re going,” Wednesday said coldly, lifting her gaze to him. “No discussion.”

“Miss Weems, I still think I shouldn’t…” Alex tried one last time, forcing a smile.

“It’s fine, Mr. Voldigoad,” Larissa said calmly. “You may attend. Especially since you’re so close to Wednesday.”

She paused briefly and added with a smile:

“And Dr. Kinbott holds no grudge for the previous incident.”

At that moment, Alex finally realized that there was no way out.

He let out a heavy sigh and lifted his gaze to the fairy drone circling above him, broadcasting the whole thing live. Alex practically began begging with his eyes for one of his wives to do something. Anything — drop a meteor, trigger a localized apocalypse, or at least arrange a neat little nuclear strike. He was willing to accept any option.

Alex, of course, had no idea that at that very moment all of his wives were watching the broadcast and laughing out loud at his desperate expression. It wasn’t every day you got to see your husband in a state of such genuine terror — all because of a visit to a psychologist.

He didn’t even have time to mentally form a plea for help before someone grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of Larissa Weems’s office. The principal followed them with a mocking look, one that clearly showed her undisguised pleasure at someone else’s suffering.

Morticia walked beside Gomez, holding her husband’s arm. Gomez wore his usual radiant smile. Wednesday, meanwhile, was practically hauling Alex along, showing absolutely no concern for his feelings. Alex himself still couldn’t come to terms with what was happening.

Wednesday, however, couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that mattered to her was the truth — why her father had been involved in the murder case of Garrett Gates.

Alex barely had time to blink before he found himself sitting in the Addams family car next to Wednesday. Across from them sat Gomez and Morticia, openly enjoying how harmonious their daughter and her “fiancé” looked together.

Alex’s desperate expression and Wednesday’s cold, focused face — all while she refused to let go of his hand — seemed especially charming to them.

Pugsley sat in the front seat and, for some reason, was genuinely happy that this time he wasn’t the victim.

“My dear Wednesday…” Alex began carefully, turning toward her. “Maybe I really shouldn’t go? I’ll just get out. I have things to do… work… you know.”

“You don’t have a job,” Wednesday replied calmly, not taking her eyes off him. “You need to recover. Of course, you can get out. I’ll just ask Lurch to speed up, and you can get out at full speed.”

“No problem,” Alex answered immediately and turned forward. “Lurch, step on it. I’m getting out.”

“Hmmm…” Lurch rasped, pressing the pedal.

“I said ‘you can,'” Wednesday continued just as calmly, looking Alex straight in the eyes. “If you’re not afraid of waking up later in a coffin. About three meters underground. Filled with concrete.”

Alex looked back at her and mentally weighed all the pros and cons. He knew perfectly well that getting out of this situation would be effortless for him.

But then everything between them would be reset to zero. And that meant only one thing: Wednesday would truly want to kill him — for real this time.

So Alex simply let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the seat, staring into nothingness with an expression of complete hopelessness.

Noticing this, Wednesday allowed herself the faintest smile. But she didn’t let go of his hand.

In moments like these, she didn’t trust him. She was certain that the instant she loosened her grip, Alex would immediately jump out of the car.

If Alex’s family knew what Wednesday was thinking at that very moment, they would have nodded in approval. They had long understood that their husband would try to run at the first opportunity. That meant he had to be held firmly in place.

“Oh, Tish, look how cute they are together,” Gomez said fondly, squeezing Morticia’s hand. “The cold stare of our daughter and the desperate gaze of her fiancé. A true family idyll. Who would have thought that a trip to Nevermore would bring so many delightful moments?”

“Indeed, mi amor…” Morticia replied softly, smiling. “It’s the first time I’ve seen such cold tenderness in Wednesday’s eyes. Sending her to Nevermore was definitely the right decision.”

“Ah, it brings back such warm memories,” Gomez said dreamily. “We were like that too, querida.”

“Exactly, my dear,” Morticia smiled, gently touching his cheek. “I clearly remember when your arm was broken… and yet you still smiled just like you do now.”

“Cara mia…” Gomez whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Mi amor…” Morticia replied, leaning toward him.

Alex sat with his eyes closed, mentally preparing for the upcoming session with the psychologist, until strange sounds tore him from his thoughts. When he opened his eyes, he once again witnessed Gomez and Morticia’s overly passionate display of affection.

Wednesday calmly stared out the window, as if her parents didn’t exist and she saw nothing at all. No matter how much Alex tried to look away, his gaze kept returning to that strange, awkward scene, making him feel genuinely uncomfortable.

Even Alex’s own family, watching the live broadcast, tactfully looked away, fully understanding that if they could simply choose not to watch or listen, Alex was right in the epicenter, forced to see and hear everything.

Alex gently nudged Wednesday with his knee to get her attention. She turned away from the window and looked at him.

“My dear Wednesday… Can you do something? This is really awkward. Even for me. And believe me, I’ve seen a lot,” Alex whispered, leaning in so that only she could hear.

“Just deal with it. If you stop them, they’ll just start again,” Wednesday replied calmly, looking him straight in the eyes.

Alex quietly groaned in frustration and, seeing no better option, rested his head on her shoulder. Wednesday slightly raised an eyebrow at the gesture but said nothing, turning back to the window to watch the passing scenery — anything to avoid looking at her parents.

Pugsley, sitting in the front seat, noticed in the rearview mirror how his eternally cold and brooding sister allowed someone to rest their head on her shoulder — and didn’t even try to stab them with something sharp.

This convinced Pugsley that Alex might be the one person capable of capturing Wednesday’s full attention. What amazed him even more was that Wednesday and Alex looked just like their parents.

The thought made Pugsley shudder inwardly for a moment, imagining his sister one day behaving like their mother. Then he would have to witness scenes of love like this — but in double the volume.

After a while, the Addams family car arrived in Jericho. Halfway there, Gomez and Morticia had already stopped their passionate display of affection for each other and shifted into polite conversation with Alex, clearly trying to get to know him better — in their eyes, he was already part of the family.

The car stopped in front of the building where Valeri Kinbott’s office was located, and everyone began to get out. Gomez was the first to step outside and, as a true gentleman, offered his hand to Morticia. Alex followed and almost instinctively did the same for Wednesday.

Gomez and Morticia exchanged approving glances and nodded, clearly pleased with what they had seen.

Inside Valeri Kinbott’s office, Alex and Wednesday sat in the center of the couch: Alex next to Gomez, Wednesday next to her mother. Even Valeri’s ever-present smile froze for a moment. For an instant, it felt as if her vision doubled.

Alex and Gomez, with their friendly smiles, looked like two open and approachable men, while Wednesday and Morticia were two cold, brooding figures, seemingly allowing no one extra near them.

Pugsley settled into a chair alone and had already noticed the strange “snacks” on the table, completely unaware that they were merely dried fruits serving as air fresheners.

Alex glanced at Valeri’s frozen smile and instantly understood what thoughts were running through her mind.

“Miss Kinbott, hello again,” he said with a forced smile.

“Hello to you too, Alex… I hope my desk won’t suffer this time,” Valeri Kinbott replied with an equally strained smile.

Hearing this, Alex dryly coughed. The Addams family immediately looked at him questioningly, and Alex quickly adopted the calmest expression he could manage. Valeri continued to scrutinize this strange family group and noticed Wednesday holding Alex’s hand. She raised an eyebrow involuntarily, wondering how things had come to this.

However, above all, Valeri was a professional. She quickly composed herself and put back on her friendly, practiced smile.

“So… where shall we start?” Valeri Kinbott asked softly.

Alex looked every bit the part of someone dragged here against his will. Gomez was about to speak but stopped mid-thought, as if searching for the “right” words. Wednesday sat with a stone-cold expression, staring at one point without blinking. Morticia appeared serene — a woman simply there to support her family, nothing more. Only Pugsley continued to chew the scented dried fruits with gusto.

The only sounds in the office were the steady ticking of the clock and the crunching of Pugsley’s chewing. The atmosphere was so awkward that it would have unsettled anyone — and Valeri was no exception, though she did her best to maintain a professional appearance.

“Perhaps we could discuss how you’re coping with Wednesday being so far from home?” Valeri suggested, trying to start the conversation.

The answer was silence once again.

At that moment, Alex mentally prayed to every god, demon, and abstract entity at once, just to keep from laughing. He was trying to reach an inner zen like never before — otherwise, he would have completely lost it. Watching the faces of the Addams family in this setting was terrifying… and at the same time mesmerizing.

“Well… I… I… it’s very…,” Pugsley stammered, searching for words. “It’s really hard for me when Wednesday isn’t home. I’ve even started to miss her… intricate tortures.”

Alex almost gave Pugsley a thumbs-up — the boy had clearly learned to find the silver lining even in such circumstances. But Wednesday was still holding his hand tightly, and his other hand was in a cast — the price for his forced “hospital performance.”

Valeri’s smile noticeably wavered. The situation became even more complicated when Gomez and Morticia nodded approvingly at their son’s words. Wednesday shot her brother a short, cold glance and immediately turned away.

“I see… thank you,” Valeri said, struggling to maintain a polite tone. “Morticia, Gomez, how are you coping with your daughter being so far from home?”

“It’s torture for us too,” Morticia said softly, with a hint of sadness.

“Fortunately, Uncle Fester’s rack is built for two,” Gomez added with relief.

“Nothing brings you back to your senses like a good stretch,” Morticia said gently, reaching for her husband’s hand.

“Cara mia…” Gomez whispered, kissing the back of her hand.

And at that moment, Alex knew what was about to happen.

He was right. Even though Alex and Wednesday were sitting between Morticia and Gomez, it didn’t stop the couple from demonstrating their passionate love. Valeri was completely convinced of… the peculiar nature of the Addams family.

Meanwhile, Alex was experiencing perhaps one of the hardest moments of his life. What was happening right in front of him was indescribable. It was pure, concentrated horror — far worse than anything he had seen before.

At that moment, Alex would have gladly faced another Nyah-Nyah avatar or gone one-on-one with Doom Slayer again — just to avoid watching what was unfolding.

Meanwhile, Wednesday’s gaze grew colder with every passing second, and her fingers squeezed Alex’s hand ever tighter, silently reminding him: today, there would be no escape.

To be continued…

(Well, the family reunion is in full swing. I certainly won’t forget about Enid; how could I forget that sweet little ball of pink fur? Alex will definitely need a break after everything he’s going through right now. Hehehe.)

Early access to chapters on my patreon: p*treon.com/GreedHunter

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep