“I was out, a few days ago. New area. There was a shop with a sign in the window. Superhero styled nail polish. A friend of mine thought she might be able to do it.”

“That’s neat,” Amy said. She had one hand on one of Ashley’s other arms. She looked back at Ashley. “The idea of something fancy like that, and that you have a friend willing to do it.”

“I don’t know if she would be able to. But… it might be nice to have that freedom.”

“Here,” Riley said. “Amy, give me the arm. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Ashley said.

“Have tea and cake with me again or something, in exchange for me going to the trouble,” Riley said. “Sometimes I think I’m going to lose my mind again, cooped up in here like this.”

“We can’t have that,” Ashley said.

“I’m going to my room. I have nail polish there I can use for tests,” Riley said.

Then she was gone.

Amy leaned against the counter by the sink. She pursed her lips, her eyebrows going up momentarily. Nothing to say.

Ashley looked down at the stumps. The hollow metal rods had been replaced by ones with blunt ends, rather than the sharp ones of a year ago.

“I heard, um, you talked to my sister at one point?” Amy asked.

Ashley looked up, staring.

“I don’t want to pry or anything, but I worry about her. I—”

“Then don’t pry,” Ashley said, her voice cold.

There was a pause.

“Okay.”

☽

Ashley exhaled slowly, her eyes closed.

When her eyes opened, her head was still tilted back, staring up at the ceiling.

She was tired. She would have to sleep, and she was worried about where that would take her. Her nerves were frayed.

There were things to do. She would need to make sure she looked her part. She’d had more successes than failures overall, though the loss of the trucks would be something she would have to bring up with Marrow.

She walked on her knees to get to the point where she could climb off the bed, then fixed her dress. She smoothed it down, because it was better to do that now when there was time to replace it. The wrinkles in the dress persisted. She frowned.

That could be fixed. She tended to her hair, which was less of a risk than the dress. It had been styled, and she hadn’t had cause to use her power on it.

She would have to soon, though. She could see the start of the faint blonde roots.

“Get ready,” she said.

J sat up, rubbing his jaw. “Any plans?”

“You’re my assistant. You should know full well what we’re doing tonight.”

“Tonight’s moot. I meant the specifics.”

“Get ready.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He went into the bathroom.