Sveta flicked the switch, looking up as the lights took their time coming on. It made me think of my mom. Turning on the lights, even when not strictly necessary. I could remember visiting friend’s houses and feeling like something was odd when other parents didn’t do it.

“What are you doing?” Sveta asked.

“Thinking.”

“Uh oh.”

“Constructive thinking. I think. I hope. Had a chat with Natalie.”

“Uh oh,” Sveta said, again, as she sidled up to me.

I gave her a light push. She smiled, righted herself, and half-stepped, half-stumbled right next to me. She gave me a hug from behind, setting her chin on my shoulder.

Familiar sensation, there, in an eerie not-familiar way.

“Tristan’s walking the sprogs,” Sveta said. “Rain’s late.”

“Kenzie mentioned,” I said. “The second part. Sprogs?”

“Chris and Kenzie. I thought it was clever.”

“It was.”

She nodded, head moving against my shoulder. “You’re looking at the boards?”

I gestured in the direction of the whiteboards. “Natalie wants to know our mission statement, so she can fine-tune her advice. She wanted a lot of things, some harder to put into words than others. I’m looking at the whiteboards, trying to figure out what the thread is and how I can help.”

“Your board is empty, Ashley,” Sveta said.

“So?”

“Are you going to call yourself Damsel of Distress?” I asked. “For that matter, what are you doing, costume-wise?”

“If you’re going to tell me not to wear a dress while I’m out with you all, you can fuck off,” Ashley said.

“Not wearing a dress could help with the Manton issues. You’re more likely to use your power to blow up the edge of a flapping dress than the part that hugs your body.”

“You can fuck off,” she said, again.

“Ashley likes dresses,” Sveta said. “We’ve had conversations about it. She thinks I should wear some, and I’ve had to repeatedly reinforce that I don’t have the legs for it, because I don’t have legs.”

“They multiply a lady’s grace,” Ashley said.

“You can’t exaggerate a negative,” Sveta said.

“You’re attached to the image,” I observed.

“Obviously,” Ashley said, turning to face me.

She was attached to just that image. I wasn’t sure if she had multiple versions of the same dress, but she didn’t change things up much. She had, however, bought the new dress in Cedar Point, and we’d seen on camera as she considered nail polish.

She wanted to change, maybe. But… how long had she stuck to this style? I’d fancied taking Sveta shopping, but now I was intrigued by this puzzle.

“It’s a shame you damage your dresses,” I said. I indicated the hem of her dress. “Are you learning to tailor or do you hire someone?”

“I’m studying it. Saves me money.”

“Okay, so… I have a bit of a crazy idea,” I said.