As the trio each raised their yet-immature voices to higher volumes, each to be overheard by the other two, Tattletale rolled her head back, hands to her temples. She was sitting in a cozy chair off to one side. The headquarters had one central room, with the exit to the south, a space that seemed to be half-lounge, half Candy’s to the west, where Tattletale was, Aiden’s office to the north, and Lookout’s workshop and space to the east.

I walked over to Lookout’s workshop, and dropped off the bag and box I’d brought in. I rubbed at my arm as I walked away from it.

The energy level of the ten and eleven-year-olds was dialed up to ten, easily.

“I’m going to get a headache, and I haven’t even overdone it with my power yet,” Tattletale said. “Hey, midgets! Volume down.”

They started talking at normal volume, but at the same general velocity, even overlapping one another.

Tattletale was set up with her laptop in front of her. She watched me, wary, as I approached. The lounge half of the space had a few nice chairs, a short table, and a collection of snacks, some of which were the same ones we had back at the Breakthrough headquarters.

There was an adjoining room, connected to both Aiden’s office and Candy’s section of the lounge, that looked like it might be a barracks or medical corner, but I might have been overthinking it. A few beds and some decorations and things that made me think they were Darlene’s.

Tattletale closed her laptop and set it aside, leaning back as she looked up at me.

“Kenzie,” I said.

The chatter stopped. I turned my head and saw the four kids looking my way. A projection of Candy stood by the desk.

“Don’t listen in?”

“Okay,” Kenzie said.

Tattletale’s penetrating stare was a weight. Even opening my mouth to speak and say it was hard. Fuck all of this.

“Help,” I said. Non-sequitur. She wouldn’t know what I meant. “I need help.”

I was going to operate on the assumption that someone as busy as Tattletale couldn’t do something as comprehensive as what I’d read over at the hideout. I was operating on the assumption she wasn’t that subtle.

“Why should I?” she asked.

“Favors, payment, information. Whatever it takes.”

“I could tell you I’m busy. Schedule’s full. Undersiders are trying to get back onto the map, but those of us who are left and sticking around are mostly background players. The status we earn is through deeds, not show, which means I have to deed.”

I couldn’t say I was exceptionally surprised.