“My entire hero career before the hospital and the years leading up to that career were a fantasy or exercise in me having powers and being a hero, and I’m not sure I was ever heroic about it. I just see that past me as wholly motivated in selfishness, ego, pride, and a drive to be celebrated.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish,” Sveta said. “You’re not that. You’re here, doing this. You’re helping.”

“The ends justify the… possible justifications?” I asked. “I just had this conversation with Kenzie. I’m not sure it’s a good thing if I’m having it again.”

“It’s where your head and heart are at.”

I shrugged, looking at the video feed.

Moose and Prancer were meeting up. Prancer had two friends with him. On the other feed, the heroes were walking through the neighborhood. Talking to shop owners and residents. Sink and Hookline watched from the sidelines, Houndstooth’s subordinates hanging back and watching them in turn.

“Where are you at?” I asked.

“Weld has been telling me things about what’s going on elsewhere. Things he shouldn’t be telling me, but I think a lot of it is the kind of thing like a husband with a certain position might tell his wife, sometimes, even when those things are confidential.”

“Wife?” I asked. I raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Sveta said, lifting her chin a bit, looking mock-affronted. “Not another word about that.”

“You’re the one who said the word.”

“Anyway,” Sveta said. “I can’t repeat those things, but I worry more than I used to. I get anxious. There’s a part of everyone else in the group in me, and when they struggle it feels like I’m struggling.”

“I can sort of relate to that.”

“I need people and I scare them away. Tristan told me what Houndstooth said. None of it’s too surprising. There are people who know a dangerous amount about me and I think they’d hurt me if they had a chance. I’m a killer. I’m constantly at war with another side of myself. I’m perpetually off balance and I don’t know if I’ll ever have that balance.”

“That kinship might be why you’re able to connect to the others.”

“Don’t say it. Don’t sound like Weld.”

“It’s true,” I said. “You’re the team’s mom.”

“Oh no,” Sveta said. “That’s so much worse than what I thought you were going to say. I thought you were going to call me the team’s heart, like Weld does. I can’t be a mother. No!”

I was about to respond, but Sveta reached up with a hand. Her prosthetic finger tapped the side of the phone.