“Am I?” she replies, wiggling her eyebrows. She presses a lingering kiss to my lips, her fingers curling through my hair. In that moment, I totally forget about Sam and all the serious problems we’re facing. It’s amazing; I wish I could live in that kiss. Sarah slowly pulls away and looks up at me, smiling. “That’s for shooting at you.”

“If that’s what I get, you can shoot at me anytime.”

“So, what’s next today?” Sarah asks, ticking my usual tasks off on her fingers. “More planning? Map drawing? World saving?”

I shake my head. “I was thinking we could get out of here.”

Sarah and I end up walking over to the Lincoln Park Zoo. I’ve spent plenty of time on the roof of the John Hancock Center, so it’s not like I’ve been totally cooped up since we returned to Chicago. Still, it’s different to experience the city down here, with the people. Even with all the car fumes and trash smells you get in a big city, the air still seems fresher somehow. Maybe it’s just that I feel free, more alive down here than when I’m up on the roof with my troubles. With Sarah’s hand in the crook of my elbow, it’s possible to imagine we’re just a normal couple on a date.

That’s not to say I’m not cautious. I’m wearing my bracelet underneath a light jacket, just in case it should pick up any signs of danger. We stop in front of the lion enclosure, but we can’t see anything except the golden furred butt of a lion dozing off behind a chewed-up tire.

“That’s the bummer about zoos,” Sarah says. “The animals get so lazy and sleepy, sometimes you don’t even get to see them.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem for us,” I tell her. I reach out with my telepathy, gently coaxing the lion to wake up. It climbs to its feet, shaking out its mane, and then saunters right towards us. He stares up at us from next to his watering hole, his black eyes blinking curiously.

I ask it to roar and it does, a big hearty growl that makes some little kids nearby run away from the enclosure shrieking and laughing.

“Good boy,” I whisper. Sarah squeezes my arm.

“You’re a regular Dr. Doolittle,” she says. “If you ever need to go into hiding again, the circus would be perfect.”

I use my animal telepathy at a few other cages. I encourage a bored-looking seal to put on an impromptu show with a beach ball. I ask the monkeys to come right up and press their hands against the glass so that Sarah can give them little high fives. It’s good practice for a Legacy that I usually only use to communicate with BK.