"Look, Ka!" Gen grinned, then stuck his palm flat out in front of him. The blankets on the bed seemed to explode, then the individual fibers began to weave themselves into intricate patterns. She blanched at the sight. The little boy looked over in concern. "Nika?"

"Look at me, Gen," she said, kneeling down to put her hands on his shoulders.

"It can be okay," they recited together, then bumped heads.

"But why Nika? Is it bad?"

"It's not bad, sweetie," she replied. "But people might be scared of you for it. Be careful."

"And what does it mean, it can be okay?" He said, clearly not having been listening.

"Because it may never be okay, and it might. If you know that it can be, you won't be afraid to change things. You won't be afraid to try because you can't succeed, you'll have hope. So I remember that I can be in charge of my life." She tapped a thread on the way out, and the blanket repaired itself obediently. If only she could fix herself, her family as easily.