“That is a thing they should be willing to do, yes,” I said. Not much retail experience.

“You can tell me how I’m supposed to wear a costume with a dress built in, when the temperature is below freezing.”

“I can try,” I said. I glanced at Sveta, who was now staring into the mirror. “You might have to wear leggings.”

She made a face, then looked at Kenzie.

“I can do a thing, don’t worry,” Kenzie said. “I’m going to have to invest in better battery packs though. Speaking of—”

She fished in her bag, then came out with a satchel. It was barely bigger than a fanny pack, but it looked like it had a double-size brick in it.

“Wear, or have Victoria carry it and stay close. It’ll keep things charged, so you don’t burn out at an awkward time.”

“I’ll carry it.” I reached out and took it. It had to weigh twenty pounds.

“Bye!”

“Bye, Kenz,” I said.

The door banged closed.

Sveta and I stood at our individual sinks, looking in the mirrors.

I wasn’t Victoria Dallon. I’d been Victoria Dallon of that Dallon family since I’d been born. Famous enough to be recognized even when visiting Boston or Portland, not famous enough to be a true celebrity outside of my hometown. At school and during events, even in my sports, I’d always been the daughter of superheroes. Things had eased up after Victoria Dallon had ‘died’, but even after, in hospitals and in the Patrol, I’d still had the looks, the remarks.

In a way I’d liked it, I’d embraced it, but…

I wore a mask to be a civilian, and I felt the lifting of a burden I hadn’t realized was there.

The door opened, and a middle-aged guy entered the bathroom. He didn’t spare us a glance as he hurried to his stall. No double-check of a look for Sveta.

What I was experiencing couldn’t be a tenth of what Sveta might be feeling.

She dragged her fingers along the length of her arm, and there was a slight distortion—slight enough that I might have explained it away as skin stretching on contact. I saw her turn her arm around, examining elbow, then craning her head around to try to get a better look at the shape of her shoulder.

In the midst of it, she seemed to get a glimpse of me, and I could see that moment where the spell broke, she didn’t recognize the person standing next to her, and then realization set in.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s perfectly okay.”

“I’ve got you holding everything. My coat, the bag with—was it a battery? Let me take some of that.”

“Here. Take the coat.”