“I don’t remember the address off the top of my head, but I’ll let you know the address at some point.”

It was the best dodge I could come up with on the spur of the moment.

“I know the address,” Lookout said.

Damn it, Lookout.

“Remember, you never know if there are people with enhanced senses around,” I said. “I might not have a secret identity, but it doesn’t mean I trust everyone here with the address of the place I live.”

“Oh, for sure,” Lookout said.

“Very sensible,” my mom said.

Yeah, well. I gave her my best convincing smile and a small nod.

She totally knew why I’d just done that.

Turnabout was fair play, though. I knew why she’d done this, pressing me for information I might have been reluctant to provide on my own. Telling her where I lived meant I had to deal with that slim chance that there might be a knock on my door, with my mom, my sister, or both on the other side.

Nah.

“Oh, Natalie brought Tony, I’ll introduce you,” my mom told my dad. She laid a hand on my arm in passing. “Take care of yourself, Victoria. You too, Looksee.”

“I’m Lookout, now.”

“Oh, did you change? Be careful,” my mom said. “Rebranding is a useful tool, but not if done in excess.”

“Yep,” Lookout said.

My dad gave me what I decided to read as an apologetic smile, before following my mom.

I sighed. I glanced at Tempera and Fume Hood, and I could see Fume Hood’s annoyance.

Wrong thing to comment on, Mom.

“Is it a problem?” Lookout asked. “That I changed it? I used to be Optics and then Looksee, and now I’m Lookout—”

“It’s fine,” I said. “You were never officially Looksee, really. Even if you were, it really doesn’t matter. I think the mentality only really applies if it’s twenty-twelve, you’re in the Protectorate or an up-and-coming team, and you really want to rise in the ranks.”

“Was that you?” Fume Hood asked.

“A bit,” I said. “Yeah.”

“Is it you now?” Tempera asked. A change of wording and tense, and Tempera had a good way of sounding thoughtful, serious, and kind all at the same time. I could really believe that prior to Gold Morning, if her aspirations were different, she could have been great.

And in that little observation, I was already snapping over to my mom’s kind of mindset.

“Hard to say sometimes,” I said. “You grow up with that drive, your parent’s ambitions in line with your own interests. It can be hard to separate them from your own. But I think so. Yeah.”

“You want fame?” Tempera asked. “No judgment here. I’m curious.”