“She might have noticed something,” he said.

“Just give her a fine for interfering or something, and get the cops to question her,” the girl suggested.

“A fine,” Emily repeated, feeling faint all over again.

Glamazon looked at Emily, her eyes narrowing behind her sparkly domino mask. “Hey, I recognize you,” she said. “You were at the college earlier.”

Emily swallowed. “Um.”

“Oh?” Silver Fox asked. It wasn’t just a noise, it was an outright question.

Emily wondered how hard it would be to get a power that would allow the ground to swallow her up.

“Can you tell us what you were doing out here?” he asked when she failed to reply to his prompt.

“Dirty water,” she said. There was meant to be more after that, but she had a hard time finding the words.

“Can you elaborate?” he asked.

Emily nodded and gestured to the door behind her. “The . . . I work at this soup kitchen here. I came out to empty the dirty water.”

The Hero’s shoulders slumped a little and she had the impression he was smiling wryly. “I see. And then what happened?”

“Um. I heard screaming? A man, a Rascal? He ran by and bumped into me and the water”—Emily gestured to the still-wet and soapy ground— “and then you came and tripped.”

Glamazon sniffed. “If you weren’t so clumsy,” she muttered.

“Glamazon,” Silver Fox said, his voice a warning. “She’s a civilian. You’ll learn not to expect too much out of them with time. It’s hardly her fault. I suspect that Alea Iacta has some sort of luck manipulation ability.”

The Hero tilted her head to the side. “How’s that? ’Cause she just happened to be here on time with soap water?”

“And his luck before, too. Also, we used to have Latin in school when I was closer to your age. I do know what his name means. It’s a bit pompous, but it’s a hint if I ever heard one.”

Glamazon barked a laugh. “Showing your age there, old man.”

“Showing your age doesn’t mean you’re showing your weakness,” he said. Glamazon groaned, and if Emily wasn’t completely mortified and wasn’t in the same postal code, she might have groaned too. It was the catchphrase of his shampoo commercials, and it was cheesier in person.

Emily shifted on the spot a little. “Can . . . can I go?” she asked.

“Of course,” Silver Fox said. “We’ll just need your name and number. In case we need to call you up for anything.”

She could do that much, and with a minimum of stuttering too.

Emily thought she was home free, when the door behind her opened up and someone jumped out. “Hey, Boss. You all right?”