"I can't believe this!" she shouts. I'm still trying not to cry. "I can't believe this!"

I tug at the collar, trying to remember why I ever thought this place was a good place to be.

"Why would they even have something like that? A chain that turns off powers?" she yells. She's been pacing the room since I was able to explain why I looked so distressed.

I look in the mirror and spin the tight chain slowly, looking for some kind of clasp.

"Did they think you wouldn't tell anyone about this? My parents will know, you'd better believe me. This school will have hell to pay when they're done with them."

"Don't," I say, too quietly for her to hear me.

"What are they even planning with this? That you'll wear it forever? That you'll just act like a human with a necklace?"

"Don't" I say, louder. She stops pacing. I tell her what Jean said to me about time.

"But they don't know that, Lapse. They're just guessing. And it's not fair to you."

I shrug. There's a knock on the door. It's Blossom.

"Hey guys," she says, "What's up?"

I almost say 'not much' out of habit, then reach to my throat to feel the foreign adornment. I tell her exactly 'what's up.'

She doesn't react as extremely as Blanc did, but her sudden distrust of the institution where we all lived was clear in her eyes.

"Why didn't they ask you first?" she says.

"I think Jean knows exactly how well I react to instruction," I say, my voice full of pained sarcasm.

"Well, you know what we have to do, right?" Blanc spins again and continues pacing. "We have to go! We have to leave!"

"What?" I whisper.

"We have to go! You can stay at my house! We can get help from the Brotherhood to get the chain off!" She sits at her desk and starts planning.

"Blanc," I say, "We can't do that."

"Why not! I didn't trust these people at the start, but now I see that what little hope I had for this place was unfounded!"

"Blanc, please. Let me think." She pulls her suitcase out of the closet.

"Blossom, tell anyone who knows Lapse what's happened and tell them that if they want to come, we're leaving."

I stand up. "Blanc!"

She stops.

"I don't-" I have to swallow so I don't cry, "Let me think a little bit, OK?"

Blossom has already left to tell people, and Blanc quietly continues packing. She's trying to keep her anger toned down, but I can see that her movements are violent as she takes what she thinks she'll need.

After she finishes she sits for a long time, watching me I'm sure. I stand. Her eyes follow me. I walk to the closet and pull out my suitcase.

The next morning, five of us stand on the lawn.

Blanc is to my left, suitcase in hand. Blossom is to my right, holding nothing but a small tote bag. "Might as well," she told me, "It's not the first time I've gone without clean clothes, and I'm not a fan of carrying heavy things."

To her right stands Douma, wings tucked under a bulky coat. It is cold today. To Douma's right stands Samantha, looking like me as per usual.

"Who are we waiting for, Blossom?" I ask her, looking at the other girls and just waiting for someone to come out here and stop us.

"Scarlett and Coleton," she said, "I didn't know who else you knew."

"Are we ready to go?" I hear Coleton say behind me. I turn and there he and Scarlett stand.

"Yes," says Blanc, "My parents bought the airplane tickets and hired a bus."

We all look at her.

"They could afford that?" I ask. I think that was what everyone else was wondering too.

She's quiet. "They support your choice, Lapse," she says, "It turns out they never left the Brotherhood."

I feel a little bad for her, but her views towards humans were always foggy for me. Blossom, I can see, is really quite excited. Douma, too, looks like she's looking forward to our trip. Coleton, Scarlett, and Samantha, however, I can't read. They keep stealing glances at my neck, and they look sorry for me, but I don't like feeling like I'm forcing them. When we've all climbed in the bus, I snap my fingers. And I do it again. Then I remember, and I stop thinking about what they think and start thinking about how good it will feel to be able to enter the lapse and punch Jean's perfect teeth.

We get to the airport by lunch time and check into our gate. We sit and wait. Blanc insisted it was best to be early to the airport, especially because of Douma's wings, but we were surprised to find that the security was lenient about mutants.

"My daughter goes to that school down south a ways," one of the men says, "I've gotten accustomed to mutants comin' through here."

So now we sit. Our plane leaves at three. There's a Starbucks. After a while, Blanc asks us what we all want and goes to stand in line. I pick at the chain around my neck.

"It will be all right, you know," Scarlett says. She sits next to me. "The brotherhood will be able to help. It's probably just some ordinary metal with a microchip in it somewhere."

I smile at her in thanks. Blanc returns with the drinks. "Ok," she says, "A black coffee for Samantha, pumpkin spice lattes for Coleton, Scarlett, Lapse, and myself, an iced tea lemonade for Douma and a hot peach tea for Blossom."

We tuck ourselves into our chairs in various positions. Before most of us have finished, they call us in for boarding.

The plane is full and stuffy. Someone coughs a lot during the first hour, and I don't looking forward to catching what they have.

"So," I whisper to Blanc, who has the aisle seat next to me, "We're going to the brotherhood headquarters in England?"

"Yes," she says. I feel bad. I think she was trying to sleep. On my other side, Blossom gazes out the window with an intensity I recognize. This must be her first time on an airplane. I peer behind me through the seats. Douma looks sick, Coleton is sleeping, and Samantha looks out the window casually.

We tried to keep Samantha from everyone else's gaze, simply because of the nature of her mutation. She's wearing her hair down, as much in her face as doesn't look suspicious. Her clothes today are gender neutral, a considerate precaution for her to take.

I fall asleep after watching the glittering ocean outside the windows. When I wake, we're landing. It's dark and I ache from sleeping in a sitting position.

We exit the plane and follow Lapse's lead. Waiting outside the airport are three taxis that she says are ours. I nearly sleep again in the car, but I feed off Blossom's energy. She and Samantha are both excited.

"Girl," Samantha says, "I hadn't gone anywhere before the school. And even the school was real near where I lived more or less. This! This is London! England!"

Blossom shares this sentiment. They lean out the window on my left. I have the right. It's cold, but they keep the window open, breathing in the air like it's delicious. We drive outside the city and over a dark countryside. Then, we pull into a long, dark, driveway lined with huge trees.

The house is on a hill. It's well lit, a massive stone structure. I almost wonder if it's a school.

The taxis drop us off and drive away. Blanc opens the door and leads us in, suitcases trailing behind. There's a lovely smell wafting from somewhere, and I can see through an entrance way, a table set for nine.

"Mother?" Blanc calls. From the stairway to the left comes a shrill cry.

"Michael! Michael! They've arrived!" Down the stairs hurries a tall and very pregnant woman in a black-and-white striped maxi dress.

"Oh, Christine!" she says, pulling her daughter to her side for a hug.

Quickly behind her comes a man with blue button-down and crisp gray slacks. "So lovely to see you home again, dear," he says, giving her a hug as well. Then the two smile at us.

"So many young mutants!" Blanc's father enthuses, "We are so happy to have you!"

"And when we heard from Christine what those imbeciles did to her roommate," Blanc's mother nearly shudders, "We knew exactly who to call."

"But, please," Michael says, "We haven't gone over introductions yet. I'm Michael Bentley, and this is my wife Sophia."

We all shake their hands and introduce ourselves. They look at me with a concealed pity. Concealed deeper still is their rage.

"I simply cannot believe," Sophie says to me, looking at my chain.

"Don't be too angry, dear," Michael says, "We'll have it all fixed in no time. And anger isn't good for the baby."

"You're quite right," she smiles, "Let us get to know you more in depth over supper. We knew you'd be hungry, leaving at three and arriving at ten thirty. What an awful time for a flight! But, we were buying on one of the worst days, weren't we? And right before the flight date. That's never good. But the worst is behind you!"

She continues talking about this and that as she leads us into the dining room. I feel like I have to say something cultured, so I ask where the bathroom is so I may wash up. Too late, I realize I'm in another country and should have called it the watercloset or the loo. They understand anyway, and Blanc insists on giving us all a tour.

The house is gigantic. We'll all be sleeping upstairs, two to a room, except for Coleton. He sleeps alone, in a downstairs guest room. They have a heated pool in the backyard and a line of shiny quads.

"We can go out into the forest tomorrow!" Blanc says, leading us back downstairs. When I get back from the restroom, the meal has been served.