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That morning, Charles suggested canceling classes. He said it like the most normal thing in the world, like this was something a rational person would announce over pancakes.

Ororo, Doug, and Laurie traded glances. Canceled classes? Again?

Ororo disliked the idea. She needed her classes. The idea of school was still just a few months old. She had been a thief and a beggar and a goddess; being a student was new and sometimes hard. Weekends were nice, but she needed to work consistently or she started to backslide. She felt herself understanding less each day.

Scott wasn't enough. The boy in question had his head bowed over his breakfast. He was not going to speak up—Ororo could have guessed—but he would always help her with her reading. He was a fine tutor, but she needed a teacher.

She raised her hand. It was the breakfast table, but it felt a lot like class.

"It's hard to keep up when we miss class," she said.

"Well, it won't be for long," Charles reasoned. The way he smiled made her want to throw sand in his face. "Just a holiday."

"You said last week was a holiday," Ororo retorted.

Alex pushed his chair back from the table. "Gotta run," he announced. He started taking his plate into the kitchen, then paused to ruffle Scott's hair. Given how hard Scott tried to avoid this, it was almost an aggressive gesture.

"Good pancakes, twerp."

"Homework done, jerk?" Scott retorted under his breath.

Alex moved to smack the back of Scott's head but a sharp, "Alexander!" from Ruth changed his mind. "Charles," she added, "a word please?"

Given the look on Ruth's face like she might snap the table in two, Charles nodded. Both left the room, retreating to the kitchen for a private conversation.

Ororo had a skill for being unheard.

In Cairo, she made a living from it. As a thief she had needed to approach others without being noticed and she managed that in part through ordinariness, hiding her distinctive white hair under a hijab. She also managed it by not being suspicious.

She waited a few moments, took another bite of pancake and chewed, swallowed… then slipped from her chair.

Scott grabbed her wrist. He shook his head.

She gave him a rude look.

He mouthed, 'Don't.'

Ororo scowled. Nobody told her what to do, not without her agreeing to it and she did not agree to this. She leaned close to Scott.

"Charles may not know you got hurt, but I do."

The threat was implicit but clear enough: he could let up or she would tell. He let up.

At the kitchen door, Ororo heard as Ruth argued, "…best interests, you are acting on your own. You cannot cancel school all the time!"

"It isn't all the time. It's a few days, for my sister."

"You have had a few days," Ruth replied. "We have four students only. You do not teach all day. They need you too."

"Oh, they need me?"

"Do not—you are better than that." Somehow, Ruth managed to keep her voice low. It all but seethed with emotion. "You have an obligation to those children and to their parents. If you cannot fulfill it, give your classes to Hank."

Charles paused and Ororo, at the doorway, raised her eyebrows. Ruth had taken this a step beyond accusation, but was she actually asking Charles to step down? Ororo knew he wanted to. Perhaps not in general, but the past few days he had been almost inattentive whenever the students were present—he had someplace he would rather be.

"What do you want from me?"

"To stop canceling classes because you want to do something else—to understand your obligations to another person, other people. I want you to be a man, because these are the actions of a child. If you cannot bear to lose only a few hours a day to do your job—"

"All right, enough," Charles interrupted. "Enough, Ruth. You've made your point and you're right, but Raven is important to me. She needs me right now. And the children like having breaks from classes!"

Ruth sighed audibly. "I will speak to Hank," she said. "My classes will continue, perhaps his also."

After a silence, Ororo heard footsteps and bolted back the table. She hopped into her chair and picked up a pancake, ignoring the fork. She did not really like forks. They were unnecessary and illogical—why did people voluntarily jam sharp things into their mouths?

"Well?" Doug asked.

"I think Hank just had a promotion."

—

Something just seemed wrong with Raven. She was aloof, but that wasn't it. Laurie was aloof and Ororo trusted her. Didn't like her, but trusted her.

Maybe it was the way Raven kept herself isolated.

Maybe it was the fact that Ororo overheard Raven speaking softly one night, after everyone was asleep. Ororo had gone for a drink of water—not because she was thirsty, just because she couldn't sleep and needed to move around. She didn't overhear the conversation, just knew it was secret and private.

It could have been anything, but something seemed off. And she wasn't one to sit idly by.

Ororo knew how to be invisible. In her hijab, she had been one of dozens if not hundreds of street kids in Cairo.

But even an ordinary street kid caused distrust. She needed to move on silent feet—which was near impossible when those feet were sheathed in canvas and rubber, so she left her sneakers in her bedroom. (Sneakers! Hah! Like they were any good for sneaking!)

She was not sure what she hoped to find in Raven's room.

Not that these things mattered to Ororo, but the decor was awful. Who thought plaid made nice wallpaper? And why did a bedroom need a fireplace? Sure, New York could be cold, but that's what those thick blankets were for.

She only noticed this for a moment.

Raven did not have many things. In fact, as far as Ororo could tell, she had only one bag with her. It was sort of a suitcase, dull brown with leather handles, sitting on a trunk at the foot of her bed. It was not unpacked.

Ororo looked around the room.

She opened the closet door carefully, ready to stop at a squeal, but the hinges were oiled. It didn't matter, anyway, since the closet held only bare hangers.

The trunk at the foot of the bed had a thin layer of dust on it. A couple of chairs were covered in cloths like other unused furniture in the mansion.

"Who are you?" Ororo murmured.

Raven had not moved in. She had not even unpacked. Charles seemed to think she was here for good; Raven clearly had other plans.

Ororo frowned. Everything had changed since Raven arrived and while Ororo was less than bothered—things changed, that was life—she wanted to know what this woman planned. A woman who could be anything, look any way, Ororo almost envied that, but she did not trust Raven.

Since Raven's arrival, Charles had separated from the others. He wasn't interested in the school anymore. Ororo accepted change, but if she was going to lose this place, she wanted to know why. Even better, she wanted to figure out Raven's plan and put a stop to it.

She unzipped Raven's suitcase.

Respect for other people's things was not a common trait in thieves. Ororo had not stolen in years, not since she stole rain in the desert, but she had no problem disregarding privacy concerns.

Clothes.

Raven's suitcase was full of clothes. They were neatly folded, carefully packed, and completely untouched.

"Liar," Ororo murmured.

Raven arrived like she was in a hurry; she wasn't. She said she needed a place to stay; she wasn't staying.

Who was this person? And what did she want?

Footsteps in the hallway interrupted Ororo's thoughts. She swore silently in Arabic, zipped up the suitcase, and glanced around. Where would she hide? There was the chimney, the closet, and under the bed.

Ororo scrambled under the bed with the dust. It left her more exposed than the closet, but let her watch as Raven's blue, scaly legs walked into the room.

Raven glanced back into the hallway, then closed the door behind her and farted.

Ororo pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle giggles. She wasn't laughing at the act itself (she wasn't Alex!), but because even someone as aloof and superior as Raven did necessary biological things.

"Ugh," Raven sighed, "this was supposed to be over by now!"

Then she flopped onto the bed. It didn't sag—it was too well-made for that—but at this point Raven would surely notice if Ororo tried for the door. A horrible thought occurred: was she stuck here until Raven fell asleep?

Ororo did not even want to move too much, in case Raven heard, but after a while her arms and knees began to ache. Raven continued to toss and turn—why was she going to sleep now anyway?—until, finally, she stayed still for so long Ororo began to think about edging out.

Then she began to wriggle out from beneath the bed.

"Raven?"

Raven's feet dropped to the floor. Ororo yanked her hand back just in time.

"Charles," Raven said, opening the door. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, I only wanted to see how you were."

"I'm fine. I was just resting for a while."

"Oh. I thought you might like to sit with me for a while. Going outside can be challenging in this weather, but I've taken to using the solarium."

Ororo stored the word 'solarium' to ask about later.

Raven considered the offer, unaware of the girl under her bed willing her to take it. If Raven would just leave, even for five minutes…

"All right."

Blessed be thy name! Ororo thought. She had never bought into any religion. At the moment, she could almost have faith if it meant Raven leaving the room.

It felt like an eternity, but Ororo managed to count to one hundred before scrambling out from beneath the bed.