“But we went back, after everything calmed down. We went back to the house and it was mostly intact, except for broken windows and water damage. We could only bring what we could fit in the car, but I made sure to bring that. I wanted it with me for whatever comes next.”

“I can only encourage and inspire, and I’m really glad if I’ve helped with that. The strength, the fairness, the poise, though, that comes from you. Everything you’ve triumphed over, surviving the bad days, getting to here, then doing well enough to be part of the athletics block,” I said. I closed the book, the pen still between the pages. I passed it to her, and put my hands over hers as she took the book. I met her eyes. “That’s you. That’s your power. Pretty much what I wrote, but I wanted to say it too.”

As I moved my hands away from hers, she smiled and hugged the book.

A moment later, she turned to Ashley. She lowered her voice, “Do you have powers?”

Ashley nodded.

“Can you?” Presley held out the notebook.

“No,” Ashley replied.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Presley said, too quickly, too defensive in how she pulled her book back, how she held it. She looked at me. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome,” I said.

But as I said it, Presley was already retreating, fleeing back to her spot by the doors, amid all the other students who were standing in the seatless area that would have bikes and prams in it at different stages of the journey.

I could have pressed, even taken issue with how Ashley had handled that.

Instead, I gathered my thoughts. On a level, I did feel refreshed. It had been a really nice moment, the minor issue at the end souring it slightly, but nice all the same.

I was having to get used to having the nice moments be routinely touched with those sour notes.

“I can’t hold a pen,” Ashley murmured.

I looked at her.

She moved her hands from where they rested on her knee. She turned one over, moved a finger. It trembled throughout the small movement. “I’ll have my appointment after we talk to Houndstooth, get tuned up. Until then, it hurts to move my hands and I don’t trust my power. That’s why.”

“You could have explained.”

She gave me a look.

“You could have,” I said.

The look was maintained. Even with the sunglasses she wore, the disdain was clear. “Ripple effects, you said. I wouldn’t be revealing it to her alone. I’d be risking revealing it to everyone she meets from here on out.”

“The good things have a way of rippling out with more strength than the bad things do,” I said.