May waited until she and Phil had gone upstairs and Phil had shut the door to their bedroom tightly behind them to spin around and give her husband one of her trademark looks. She arched one eyebrow and tilted her chin ever so slightly to the right, asking the question without having to use a single word.

"I had an interesting conversation with Skye this afternoon," Phil began. He started to putter around the room, straightening the books on their bedside table, shuffling the hangers around in the closet. He was trying to keep things light and casual, but Melinda knew better. She had seen the look he had given her in the kitchen when she walked in.

"I could tell something was bothering her. She was grouchy in the car on the way home, and she was fighting me on doing homework," he continued, still trying to use an airy tone.

"Fighting?"

"Well, not fighting. Just dragging her heels on it. You know how kids gets when they don't want to do something."

May smiled. "I think it looks something like how you get anytime the grass needs cutting around here. Kind of pouty, hunched over shoulders, maybe some puppy dog eyes..."

"Cutting the grass is one of the worst chores known to man," Phil protested. His eyes twinkled with playfulness, and May felt her smile widening. "I still don't see why you won't let me pay some kid in the neighborhood to do it for us."

"Maybe we'll revisit the issue next summer," she conceded. "You were saying, about Skye?"

"Right, Skye," nodded Phil. "So she's not really acting like herself, and then out of the blue, she asks me what would happen to someone who stole something."

"Like, legally? Is she in trouble? I would have heard something at the station if the police—"

"No, not like that, I don't think," Phil said. "I asked her if everything was okay, and she said she was just thinking about something. So I told her about how we would talk things out and decide as a group what the appropriate response would be."

"Of course," agreed May. "That was one of the things you and I talked about before we even told Victoria we wanted to foster. We talk things out, we parent as a team."

"Absolutely." Phil nodded again. "But she didn't seem convinced. She was being elusive the whole time, never coming out and saying exactly what was on her mind. But she asked if we would ever yell, or hurt someone if they did something bad. She said she just needed to know."

May furrowed her brow and sank onto the end of the bed. "Does she really think that we're the kind of people who would do something like that?"

"I don't know," Phil admitted. "I hope not. But when you really think about it, we're still strangers to her."

"And she doesn't know if she can trust us yet, or if we'll turn out to be as horrible as some of the people she's lived with before…" A pang of realization rattled around in May's ribs as she spoke. She had known it was unrealistic, but there had been a part of her that had hoped the trust would just come quickly and naturally once their foster daughters had settled in. Of course, she knew that wasn't the way trust worked. It had to be built and earned over time, and the fact of the matter was that she and Phil simply hadn't been parents for a long enough amount of time for trust – real, deep, genuine trust – to have been cultivated.

"I told her, and Jemma and Bobbi, too, in no uncertain terms that we don't believe in violence as punishment, and that they can come to us for anything without being afraid of us yelling or, God forbid, hurting them," Phil continued. "I'm not sure how much of it sunk in, though."

"Those are probably hard words to believe when most of your life experience has told you otherwise," said May sadly. "When I think about some of the things that all three of those kids have gone through… the things in those files…"

"And that's just the stuff Vic was able to send us records of," Phil remarked. "I have the upmost respect for Victoria, and I know it's not her fault, but there are so many gaps and holes in those reports and records. There are whole years missing from some of Skye and Jemma's paperwork."

May nodded and felt her shoulders sag. There was no telling how many people Skye and Jemma had suffered at the hands of. And Bobbi… well, they knew exactly how many people were responsible for her torment, but just that one horrible excuse for a father was more than enough for one little girl's lifetime. Phil came and sat next to her on the bed, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to send us down that rabbit hole," he said quietly. "I can see your wheels turning, Mel." She shook her head and offered a smile to let him know that it was okay, then reached over and gave his knee a return squeeze.

"You're right, it is a rabbit hole. One that we'll need to explore at some point, but not tonight. Tonight, we just need to get through these teacher meetings and make sure our three incredible children know how much they are loved in this house."

"I knew I could count on you for a plan of action," Phil teased, leaning over to plant a kiss on her cheek. "One of the many reasons why I love you."

"Are you keeping a list?" May teased back. She stood up then, and began to finish getting ready, putting the last of her work things away and hanging up her blazer.

"Only for the last twenty years or so," Phil called to her from the bed. "It's getting pretty long, to be honest. I might have to chop down another tree just to make sure I have enough paper."

"You're ridiculous," May grinned, returning to Phil and pulling him up off the bed. "And I bet my list for you is even longer."

It had been harder to get everyone out the door and into the car than May had expected. Skye had totally shrunk in on herself, not saying much or making much eye contact. May thought she was acting more like Jemma than Jemma herself, who instead seemed to have occupied the social, chatty role that Skye usually filled. It didn't take an ace detective to figure out that Jemma was trying her best to deflect attention from the sullen and sulky Skye as she chirped away about the things she had learned in school that day and all of the interesting things her friend Fitz had told her recently. As good as Jemma was at nurturing Skye, May could tell that it was taking a lot of her energy to carry on such a forced conversation without any input from Skye.

Conversely, Skye looked almost spooked, always a half step right behind Jemma, head down and heels dragging. One of her hands was tangled into Jemma's, and the younger girl was tapping her pointer finger away on the back of Skye's hand.

Phil, to his credit, acted like nothing was out of the ordinary and did his best to jockey everyone out to where they were supposed to be. They made sure Bobbi had all of the necessary emergency phone numbers and was okay to stay home alone for an hour, which she assured them she was with one of those classic "please remember I'm 15, not 5" looks that only teenagers can give, and finally she, Phil, Skye, and Jemma were all in the car and pulling out of the driveway.

It wasn't until they were more than halfway to the school before Skye said anything, and when she did, her words made May's heart ache.

"Are you sure we have to go to this thing?" Skye asked. Her voice was small and had an edge of pleading to it. When no one responded right away, her tone shifted slightly, hints of hard anger lacing their way in. "It's not like the teachers are going to have anything good to say, and I bet Miss Hill would just email you everything if you asked. We could just go home and do something actually fun together instead." Jemma made a concerned little noise, and May twisted around in the passenger to seat to make sure she could look at Skye while she spoke.

"I know these meetings can seem a little intimidating," May began, and Skye scowled. "But they're important. Phil and I want to meet your teachers, for one thing, and we want to hear about how well you're both doing in school. We know how hard the two of you have been working since you got here, and we're so proud. You're trying your best, and that's—"

"—the most important thing," Skye grumbled. "I remember. I just… Don't get your hopes up, is all."

"Skye," Phil said, glancing into the rearview mirror to catch her eye. "You and Jemma and Bobbi are already the realization of our wildest hopes and dreams, just by being you. Melinda and I, for a long time we didn't think we'd ever get to be parents, and now we have three of the most outstanding girls a person could ask for."

"Our hopes are already as high as they can go, and every day you three still manage to clear them by leaps and bounds," May added. "Whatever your teachers might have to say in the next 45 minutes is not going to change that one bit."

Both girls' faces had gone scarlet, and May watched as Skye blinked hard a few times to clear the shininess that was gathering in the corners of her eyes. She didn't know how many times it would take for that message to sink in, but she knew that she and Phil would repeat every day for the rest of their lives if that's how long it took to get the girls to understand just how much they mattered.

The hallway outside of Miss Hill's classroom was empty, save for three folding chairs that had been set up near the door. The door itself had a piece of construction paper taped over the glass pane, presumably to give the people in the conference some privacy. They had only been waiting a few minutes when the door opened, and Miss Hill stepped out into the hall.

Melinda had met the young woman a few times before, back when Phil had been teaching at the middle school. She knew that Maria had been one of Phil's favorite coworkers and remembered some of the more boisterous tales that Phil had regaled her with of his and Maria's antics: Filling the teachers' lounge with balloons and streamers every time it was someone's birthday, writing out Captain America-themed valentines cards for every kid in their homerooms, challenging their students to raise a certain amount of money for their holiday food drive and agreeing to take a pie in the face from the class who raised the most. Maria had a big heart, just like Phil, and she had the right kind of energy to be teaching teenagers every day, that much May was sure of.

A middle-aged woman and a boy who must have been her son followed behind Miss Hill, the woman thanking Miss Hill and shaking her hand as they left. She was wearing a soft, simple-looking dress and had a broad smile on her face. She must have been very proud of her son.

"Fitz!" May whirled around to see Jemma's face lit up like a Christmas tree. May had to clear her throat harshly to keep from laughing at just how excited the normally reserved girl had become at the sight of who May could only assume was the famous Fitz she had heard so much about.

Fitz glanced up at his mother, who gave him a nod, before scampering off to where Skye and Jemma stood, and the three children became immediately engrossed in conversation. To May's right, Phil chuckled at the sight of them. He turned to the other adults then and began shaking hands.

"Maria, hi, really good to see you. You must be Mrs. Fitz. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Phil Coulson, and this is my wife Melinda May. I think our girls have really taken a shine to your son."

"It's so wonderful to put faces to the names," Mrs. Fitz said. She had a lilting accent, one that May thought sounded like it had been blended by years of living in a few different places. England, maybe, Scotland for sure. "Leo used to keep to himself so often, but now every day it's 'Jemma this' and 'Skye that.'" She looked positively glowing as she spoke, and May could see that her eyes were brimming with tears. "He's been so cheery lately, and…" She took a moment to collect herself, but her voice was still fragile when she spoke again. "It's just so nice to see him finally making friends. As a mother, you know, I couldn't help but worry, and now…"

"It's been so good for Jemma and Skye to have a friend like him," Phil told her, flashing her his warmest smile. May was always impressed at how good Phil was with people. "It's hard coming to a new school, and he's been a real godsend."

"We're so grateful," May added. "He's made the transition so much better for them. Jemma, especially. She talks more about Fitz than just about any other subject."

"Except maybe biology, or astronomy," Phil cut in playfully. "Those get some pretty good airtime with her, too." He laughed then, and May found herself joining him.

"Oh, Leo's the same way." Mrs. Fitz laughed, too. "Most of the time I haven't a clue what he's going on about, rockets and circuits and chemistry and whatnot. But he gets so excited, I just let him tell me, even though it's all over my head." They all shared another laugh, marveling at the intellect and eccentricities of their children. May caught Skye watching them carefully out of the corner of her eye, and she tried to send waves of reassurance her way. She hoped Skye knew they weren't laughing at them.

"Well, I don't want to keep you," Mrs. Fitz said then, beckoning for her son to rejoin her. "My sister's at home with dinner, and I'm sure you all want to get on with your meetings. It was lovely to meet you both."

"We'll have to get together sometime," Phil said. "Give our kids a chance to spend some time together, give us a chance to get to know each other."

"That would be lovely," Mrs. Fitz smiled. She and Fitz gave everyone a final wave, then disappeared quickly down the empty hall.

"Shall we get started?" Miss Hill asked, looking from May to Phil and then to Skye and Jemma. "Who'd like to go first?" May was sad to see that the chance encounter with Fitz, while momentarily exciting for the girls, had done nothing to alter their moods. Jemma was starting to get flighty, tapping more fervently on Skye's hand, which hadn't left Jemma's since they had left the house. Skye had retreated back into herself, her head ducked and her grip on Jemma's hand tight like a vice. They were supposed to have their meetings separately, but May wasn't sure she'd be able to get two apart long enough for a meeting to take place.

"Maria, I know it's a little unorthodox, but do you think we would be able to have the meetings together?" Phil asked. Thank God for Phil, May thought. He had noticed the exact same things she had, and he knew exactly how to give Skye and Jemma what they needed. "At least to start, maybe? We've had a little bit of a stressful day, and I think it might help make things a little easier if we could stay together."

"Sure," Miss Hill said with a nod. "As long as that's okay with Jemma and Skye." She took the time to check with each girl, who both offered a nod of affirmation. May thought she saw at least of tiny bit of tension release from Skye's shoulders, which she took as a good sign.

The teacher ushered them all into the classroom, and quickly pulled another desk over so that all four of them could sit and chat with her. She brought over two small manila folders from her desk, which she set out in front of her as she sat down.

"The main purpose of these meetings," Miss Hill said pleasantly, "is to give parents and guardians a chance to check in with their students and their teachers. To hear directly from their students how they feel about their progress, to see some of their students' work, and to hear some comments from the teaching staff as well, that sort of thing. I know I haven't gotten to work with the girls as long as some of my other students, but they've been with us for about three weeks, now, so the other teachers and myself are starting to get an idea of them as students. I'll let Skye and Jemma speak first, before I say anything, and we'll make sure there's time for questions at the end. How does that sound?"

"Great," smiled Phil. "Melinda and I have been looking forward to having this conversation."

"Fantastic," said Miss Hill. She turned to Skye and Jemma. "Would one of you like to start?"

May had been around Jemma and Skye long enough to know that Skye was almost always the one to volunteer to go first, to plunge in ahead and test the waters for the more tentative and deliberate Jemma. She also knew by now that school was a much bigger insecurity for Skye than it was for Jemma, even if Skye tried to hide that fact behind bravado and a façade of apathy towards her education. Given that, and coupled with the reticence Skye had been demonstrating all evening, it didn't come as a huge surprise when it was Jemma's voice that offered to go first.

"Thanks, Jemma." Miss Hill's tone was gentle, and it was clear she had noticed just how nervous everyone seemed to be acting. "Why don't you start by telling us what you think some of your strengths are at school, and what some things are that you are still getting better at?"

It took Jemma a few seconds to speak. Apparently the boldness she had mustered had all been sapped by the effort of volunteering to go first. It wasn't until Skye gave her a nudge and a nod that she opened her mouth.

"Well, um… I'm… I'm decent at maths, and I know the answers in science. I think I need to get better at basketball, and dodgeball." May cut her eyes over to Phil, who was biting back a smile at the idea of timid, gentle Jemma playing dodgeball.

"What would you say is your favorite class that you go to right now?" Miss Hill wanted to know.

"Most of them are good," Jemma mused. "I think I like astronomy the best, though. I love the stars and the galaxies, and Mr. Daniels talks about things I don't already know."

"Is there anything else about school that you think it's important for May and Phil to know?" There was another long pause as Jemma considered the question.

"This is the first time I've liked my school in a long time. I like being in classes with Skye and Fitz. Some days I'm still afraid, but…" She paused to glance briefly at Skye. "But Skye makes me brave."

"That's really wonderful, Jemma," Miss Hill said. "Thank you for sharing all of that with us." She slid out one of the folders and opened it, revealing some of Jemma's graded assignments, and a page that May couldn't read upside down, but that she suspected had comments from all of Jemma's other teachers.

"Jemma is a remarkable student," she told them as she passed around some of Jemma's work, all of which was adorned with A's. "She definitely has exceptional proficiency in areas of math and science, but her work in her other classes has been exemplary as well so far. In my class I know she's demonstrated strong reading comprehension. I have the students write summaries and reflections from time to time on the chapters we've been looking at, and Jemma often will provide high-level analysis of the work. I don't know if the two of you had any reservations about moving her up a grade when she transferred here, but I can assure that she is having no trouble with the work as far as any of her teachers can see."

Phil beamed over at Jemma, and May watched as Skye leaned into Jemma's side, nestling her head on Jemma's shoulder. It was clear that everyone was proud of her.

"Coach Garrett didn't submit any comments, so I can't speak to Jemma's basketball skills," Miss Hill laughed, "but I do have a few suggestions for growth areas that I'd like to share with you all."

"By all means," Phil said. A brief look of anxiety flashed in Jemma's eyes, and May tried to send her a reassuring smile.

"Well, like I said, all of Jemma's work is exemplary, but it's really only through her written work that we get to see how well she's managing the material. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but several of her teachers mentioned that they would love to see a little bit more engagement and participation in the classroom itself. Raising her hand, speaking in group discussions, that sort of thing. It's wonderful that she has Skye, and that they've become friends with Leo as well, but there are a few concerns about her socialization. Connecting with other students, you know?"

May watched as Skye scowled and turned to look at Miss Hill with pure indignation. She was sure Skye's protective nature was kicking in, and if she was being honest, she shared some of the same sentiment.

"Is that really such a concern?" May wanted to know. "Especially if she does already have two close friends? It's not as though she's not speaking with anyone all day or anything like that."

"No, of course," Miss Hill said quickly. "It's not a concern all of the teachers share, just something a few of them have observed. Some parents like to be aware of how well their child's social skills are developing along with their intellectual ones. As far as I'm concerned, if Jemma is happy and enjoying her time in school, then that's what really matters. To be frank, my main concern with Jemma is that she's not being challenged enough academically. She mentioned just now that astronomy is one of the classes where she receives new information on a regular basis. I worry that some of her classes are reteaching her material she's already mastered, which can be boring for some students, or cause them to disengage."

"Has that been an issue for you, Jemma?" Phil asked. "Are you bored in some of your classes?"

"Not exactly," Jemma said thoughtfully. "I'd prefer to learn new things, I suppose, but… I'm not bored. Being with Skye and Fitz makes the classes not boring."

"And that's the delicate balance we need to strike," Miss Hill explained. "For some students, the priority is getting them at a grade level that will challenge them intellectually, and for others, the priority is keeping them among like-minded peers who can make school an enjoyable place. The decision is ultimately up to your family, but it's worth having an honest conversation about amongst yourselves. If you're interested, I also think our guidance counselor, Mrs. Hinton, could be a big help if you find yourselves looking for an outside opinion."

"Oh, Polly's still here?" asked Phil. "Good for her. I always liked her," Phil explained to a curious Jemma and Skye. "Mel, I think you met her once or twice before. She's got that cute little daughter that she brought to the staff picnic, remember? Gosh, she's got to be what, five or six years old by this point?"

"I do remember," May said, chuckling. She laid a gentle hand on Phil's arm. "Let's try and stay focused though, love, yes?"

"Right, totally right." Phil waved his hands as if to clear the air from his sidetrack. "Well, if you think it's worth a chat, Maria, we can reach out to Polly at some point."

"Jemma, how do you feel about your classes? Would you be interested in talking about finding you some more challenging work?" May asked. Miss Hill might think it was worth a chat with the guidance counselor, but she knew there was no point in considering a move if Jemma wasn't interested.

"I don't want to change classes," Jemma admitted, her eyes sliding down to the floor. May watched as Jemma's vision darted back and forth across the ground, and she wondered if Jemma was counting the tiles. It had been a few days since she had seen Jemma count something. Maybe the idea of switching classes was causing stress. She remembered how difficult the idea of changing clothes had been. Surely changing grades would be even harder.

"That's totally fair, Jemma," Miss Hill assured her. "If you want my opinion, I think you're doing great where you are, and I think it's wonderful that you have two really good friends. But Mrs. Hinton might be able to help you and Phil and May come up with some other ways to make sure you're still learning things at a good pace. Maybe some extra work, or some one on one time with a more advanced teacher, something like that. Mrs. Hinton is the expert, not me, so I'm sure she'd have more information."

"Well it sounds like it's at least merits a conversation," Phil said. "Even if it's just to see what some of the options are." Jemma didn't make a move or even acknowledge that she had heard what was being said. Her eyes were still glued to the floor, and her lips were moving slightly. May was sure she was counting now. She gave Phil a pointed look, and thankfully, he caught her drift and noticed Jemma's now obvious discomfort.

"We'll take some time to think about it. Thanks, Maria. Is there anything else we should know about Jemma, or are we ready to move on to you, Skye?"