Content warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, including child abuse (end of chapter only).

In all fairness, May Mutsumi's day had been ruined well before the Alakazam showed up. She'd opened up her computer that morning to see an email from Birch describing an outbreak of Surskit on Route 117; he'd wanted her to pull the weather data for that area to see if there had been any unusual patterns that had caused it. But the transmitters on Route 117 had been on the fritz for days—because despite the Weather Institute being Hoenn's best chance of an early warning if Groudon or Kyogre woke up again, Arceus forbid the government give them the money they needed to actually do their job—which meant she'd have to go and retrieve the data onsite. She'd had to take Sol, the Institute's Xatu, who hated her, and teleport all the way over there, only to find out that it was pouring rain, and she hadn't brought an umbrella or coat, because despite working in the literal Weather Institute, she hadn't thought to check the forecast. Feigning exhaustion, Sol had refused to teleport her back until the job was done, and of course he hadn't put her anywhere close to the weather station, so she'd had to tromp through the rain and mud on her bad leg until she reached it.

And there, she had discovered that there was, indeed, a Surskit outbreak. Specifically, there was a Surskit outbreak on the weather station. The nearby pond had apparently been the perfect place to build their nests, and the instrument shed had apparently been the perfect place to watch for danger. Every inch of the building and its expensive equipment had been covered in a hardened, gluelike ooze, and a dozen Surskit clung to the walls and roof, glaring at her with beady eyes. And before she could back away and figure out what to do, they jumped her.

She hadn't been in any real danger. Dora and Momo, her Lairon and Breloom, had made quick work of the Surskit, despite Momo's permanent unsteadiness and Dora's unsuitability for fighting in the rain. It would have been quicker if she'd still had the rest of her team, or if Sol had deigned to help, but, well. As it was, the fight had lasted just over a minute, and though she hadn't been hurt, they'd secreted their nasty anti-predator goo all over her, including her prosthetic arm, which was now gunked up and even less responsive than usual. Banged up, soaked through, and caked head to toe in mud and unmentionable fluids, she'd wrenched open the door to the shed, transferred the data onto her phone, and ordered Sol to at last teleport her back—

—only to see the Alakazam waiting for her when she arrived.

So, no, Aleister hadn't ruined her day. But seeing him certainly wasn't helping things. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"Miss Mutsumi. Are you well?"

"Do I look well?" She slammed her phone onto her desk, opened up her laptop, and linked them up. Water dripped from her hair onto the keyboard. "What does Steven want this time? More orb tests?"

"He has requested that I bring you to Rustboro to see him. That is all I am authorized to say."

"More orb tests, then. Tell him to shove it. I'm busy, if you couldn't already tell."

But of course, he didn't leave. The whole time she pulled over the data, attached it to an email, and typed a brief, typo-ridden, one-handed explanation of what had happened, she could feel him behind her. From experience, she knew he would stand there all day, if that was what it took. So, after sending the email, she shut her eyes, counted to ten, and let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Let's go."

"You may take the time to make yourself presentable, if you wish—"

"No. I don't want you watching me while I shower. Let's just get this over with."

A clawed hand brushed her shoulder, space folded, and May was somewhere else. Specifically, she was in one of the sub-basements of Devon's headquarters. The building was the tallest in Hoenn, but its height was a diversion; all the real work took place underground. The room she stood in was familiar, all stainless steel, with glass-fronted test chambers and complicated machinery lined up from wall to wall. In front of her, there was Steven Stone, and—Jin. That was new. Jin's lip curled at her appearance, and May glared back. She noted, with an odd sense of satisfaction, that one of his arms was in a sling. Good. They were equal. One arm each.

Steven, paying no attention to the staredown, strode forward towards May. "May. Good to see you, as always." He held out a hand for her to shake, but she ignored it. Subtly looking her up and down, he added, "I hope we aren't interrupting anything important."

"Nothing's as important as you are, Steven." She laced as much sarcasm as she could into every word, but Steven didn't flinch. "What do you want?"

"We just need some more readings." He gestured at one of the test stations, where a Corphish strutted around inside, hooked up to electrodes and clicking its claws at its reflection in the one-way glass. "It won't take long. I appreciate your patience with us; this should be—"

"—the last time. Yeah." He said that every time. She limped over to the station, shoes squelching muddy water onto the sterile floor, and sat down. The device looked a little different every time she came here, but its overall form was always the same: a several-foot brick of metal and wires with handles jutting out for her to grip. It was always bolted to the floor, and she knew that a good amount of its bulk wasn't to hold instruments and electronics, but to accommodate layers of reinforced walls. It was equal parts amplifier and vault. Inside was one of the two artifacts that the Hoenn region's future depended on.

Steven, in his role as scientist, swabbed her forehead and temples and stuck electrodes to her skin, making her the twin of the baffled Corphish in the tank. The wires from both of them ran out to a computer showing waveforms and readings she still couldn't make sense of, even after all this time. He sat himself down at the computer, Jin hovering over him, and nodded back to her. "When you're ready."

May had never been good with words. It was part of why she hated these tests. They made her feel something, something horrendously alien and overwhelming, and she'd never been able to describe it. During her time as a trainer, she and her Blaziken had mastered mega evolution, and this was a little like that, but it also wasn't. There was the same pull, the same connection of her will and life force to another, but while mega evolution let her keep her senses and feel her partner as a spiritual echo, the orb… didn't. If mega evolution was her reaching across the ether to link two souls together, then the orb was her dropping all her defenses and inviting the other soul to consume her. She opened her mind to the Corphish, and…

She was hungry. Hungry and angry! A rival stood before her, and each time she brandished her claws, they brandished right back. Keep control. Your name is May Mutsumi. You are a human being; you are not this Corphish. Threats! Nowhere to go. No water to hide in. She lashed out at her enemy, and her enemy lashed out at her, and both claws struck an invisible barrier. There is no threat. It's just a mirror. You are alone. Trickery! She wouldn't be fooled. She raised a claw again and—stop. Stop now and drop your claws.

Normally, when May asserted her will, it came like a force pressing in on all sides, as though she was physically grabbing the Pokémon's body and twisting it into compliance. This time, it was different. Her command shot through the link like a shard of glass and struck the Corphish in its heart—her heart, and she lowered her pincers in confusion without really knowing why. The enemy was still—not an enemy. Do as I say. Turn around three times. The orders came as a rapid-fire burst from a gun, and she obeyed, skittering around on her six legs. But why? Why—

May gasped and jumped to her feet, knocking over her chair—and then swayed, unbalanced, and her bad leg betrayed her, sending her crashing to the floor. Steven was at her side in a flash, crouching down and reaching out a hand in concern, but she batted him away. Her skin stung where the electrodes had been ripped off.

"May. Are you okay? What happened?"

She choked on her words several times before finally spitting them out. "What happened—don't give me—what the hell was that?"

"What was what? The readings were all normal—"

"No. You changed something. What was it?"

"We raised the amplification from the last test, but other than that…" He held out his hand again, and once more she smacked it away. She pushed herself up, one-armed, and crawled back until she was sitting against the base of the tank.

"It wasn't amplification. Don't treat me like an idiot. What did you do?" She glowered up at Steven, who remained kneeling on the floor, his face the perfect picture of innocence, until he finally looked away, shook his head, and smiled.

"You're perceptive. I'd hoped to keep this under wraps for a while longer, but…" He stood up and beckoned to Jin. Jin, though, stood firmly in place. There was another staring contest, another battle of wills, and finally Jin broke. Begrudgingly, he followed Steven to the machine, where the two of them pressed their thumbs to the fingerprint reader and typed in codes on twin keypads. There was a clacking of half a dozen locks sliding open, and then Steven opened the door, reached in, and pulled out something that was not the blue orb.

It wasn't even a sphere. It was a jagged cluster of crystals that met in the center, as though they'd grown out unevenly from a single point. It was the same blue as the blue orb, and it caught the light the same way, but it had an artificial, lab-grown purity that let her see almost straight through to the other side. May's heart hammered in her chest. "What… What is that?"

"The blue orb. Or, what's supposed to be a perfect replica of it. I'm sorry for deceiving you; we wanted the first test to be blind, with as few variables as possible."

"How… What… Why?"

"I'll tell you in time. But for now, everything about this project needs to be kept completely secret."

"How secret?" Her brain was coming back online, but every time the enormity of the thing in Steven's hands hit her, she was almost struck dumb again. "Is this a League project? Does Ever Grande know? Or the rest of the gym leaders? Or is it just you?"

"It's a Devon project for now. Once it's completed, we'll reveal it to all of Hoenn. But until then—"

"It's also possible that nobody will ever learn about it," Jin interrupted. "If we're lucky, this little distraction of Steven's will die before ever seeing the light of day." Steven's eyes flashed, and for just a split second, his face contorted in real, actual anger.

"Let's not talk about this here, Jin."

"Why not?" He waved his good arm in May's direction. "As Miss Mutsumi is well aware, the orbs—"

"We need them."

"They're a weak link."

"There's no point without them."

"The point is control, and your whole system can be thrown off course by—"

"Off course? Coming from you, who wants to indiscriminately—"

"What about that Birch child? Surely you don't want to entrust the future of the world to the likes of—"

May stood up, and both Steven and Jin fell silent and turned to her. She should have kept listening, but she couldn't. She didn't want to hear them talk about Brendan. "Do you have what you need? Can I go?"

"…Yes," Steven said after a pause. "Speak to Aleister and he'll teleport you back. Thank you, May, and remember, all of this is—"

"Secret. Got it." She trod over to the corner of the room, where Aleister was waiting.

"Shall I teleport you back to the Weather Institute?" he asked.

"Petalburg Gym," she muttered, under her breath, so Jin and Steven wouldn't hear. Aleister's eyes shimmered, and she knew he was reading her intentions. She didn't care. And neither did he, apparently, because he reached out to touch her, and a moment later she was standing on familiar wood-plank floors.

"Until we meet again." Aleister bowed, and then he was gone. May turned around and made eye contact with the receptionist, who was already hustling towards her.

"Miss, this area isn't approved for teleportation. I'll have to ask that you—oh." His eyes went wide as he gave her a closer look. "Miss Mutsumi, I'm sorry, I didn't—"

May waved him off. "It's fine. I'm here to see my father."

"I can go get him for you. I think he's in the middle of a battle—"

"No, don't interrupt him. Just send him a message when he's done. Can I go wait in his office?"

"Of course." He inclined his head to her, and she did the same. She began to walk off towards the far wall, but the first squeaking step made her realize she was still wearing her muddy shoes, and she cringed. Carefully, so she wouldn't fall, she bent down and eased them off her feet. A handful of trainers were seated around the lobby, and each of them watched her every movement, their faces a mix of awe and morbid curiosity. She tried not to resent them for it, and she tried not to feel the envy that rose inside of her at the thought of the futures they all had ahead of them. It hadn't been their fault that she'd lost everything and been reduced to this.

May had been champion material, once. She'd gone on her journey, crushed seven of the gyms in record time, become one of the youngest trainers in modern times to achieve mega evolution, and was on track to make it all the way to the Ever Grande Conference. People had sneered that it was all just because she was a gym leader's kid, but the truth was that she had been a once-in-a-generation talent. She could say that now without boasting, now that it didn't mean anything anymore. Brendan had been incredible too, though fewer people knew it; he lagged behind her in badges and could never defeat her in battle, but it was because his days were filled more with research and study than with training. By the time he was fourteen, he was publishing his own papers under pseudonyms in scientific journals, and his knowledge of natural science was beginning to eclipse his own father's. His goal wasn't a championship title, but a professorship, and they had an ongoing rivalry over who would achieve their dream first. It hadn't been easy, especially since they both had been constantly forced to square off against Team Aqua and Team Magma, who had somehow managed to cross their paths over and over again. But she'd gotten seven badges and had been preparing to head to Sootopolis for her eighth when, all at once, the world had fallen apart.

Nobody knew how, exactly, the red and blue orbs chose their wielders. Even today, after years of study, Devon hadn't figured it out. And somehow, out of all the elite trainers who raced to Sootopolis to try and contain the transformed titans' battle, two hapless kids had wound up being the only ones the orbs would respond to. Lacking any other choice, Steven had sent May and Brendan into the fray, armed only with their own teams, a suit designed to amplify the orbs' power, and the few Pokémon he could spare to protect them.

But the whole world knew about that. They knew about how Brendan had been struck by the shock waves of Groudon's tail, swept into the sea, and nearly drowned. They knew how May had had the whole right half of her body pinned under rubble and almost bled out. They knew how their Pokémon had fought valiantly to protect them and how nearly all of them had died, one by one, gnats being swatted down by gods. Neither May nor Brendan had been aware of any of it happening. They'd stayed connected to the legendary monsters, fighting to bring them to heel, even as their own bodies failed and the world crumbled around them. And when it was over, when the paramedics rushed in and brought them back from the brink of death, it was only then they learned that everything had changed.

May would never be a champion. Even if she could make it through Victory Road with one remaining arm and one good leg, she couldn't take on the Elite Four with two living Pokémon, one of which was nearly as crippled as she was. And she couldn't stand the thought of catching… replacements. Toro, Sira, Zuzu, Rana; they'd all been her best friends, and she'd loved them, and they were gone. Nothing could ever fill the void they'd left. Brendan, meanwhile, hadn't been maimed like she had, but every single member of his team had been killed. The shock had left him unwilling to say a single word to anyone for weeks, and the League had had to bend the law and psychically pull his memories from his head in order to write their report. After being discharged from the hospital, he'd disappeared, and for a long time nobody had even known whether he was alive or dead, until—

May didn't want to think about Brendan. She didn't want to think about any of this. She wanted to get up and go to work every day at the pity position that Professor Birch had gotten her at the Weather Institute, and pretend that this had always been her dream, and maybe if she kept up that lie for long enough, then one day she'd believe it and be happy again. But Devon would never let her forget.

On her way to her father's office, she ducked into a locker room—one which was thankfully empty at the moment—and went about finally cleaning herself up. She took a spare gym uniform from the rack, stripped off her sodden and ruined clothes, and stood under a shower and scrubbed at her skin and hair until every last bit of dirt and gunk was gone. She had time; her father wouldn't take his lunch break for at least another hour, and short of a life-threatening emergency, he wasn't going to alter his schedule for her. He'd always drummed into her head the tenets of diligence, routine, and respect—he respected his challengers by not dropping everything just because his daughter had walked in the door, and she respected him by waiting her turn and not tracking mud all over his floors. It had seemed cold and unfair to her when she was a kid, but by now, she'd come to appreciate it. If the whole world operated like he did, she wouldn't have to deal with Devon showing up to whisk her away whenever the hell they felt like it.

The water couldn't fix whatever was wrong with her artificial arm. She'd probably have to go in and get it serviced. But the heat and steam at least made her leg feel better, and by the time she'd dried off, dressed, and combed her hair, she no longer felt a simmering hatred towards the world. Now it was just confusion, exhaustion, and that perpetual sense of being overwhelmed. She still had to go back to work after all of this—shit, had she messaged Bart and told him why she was gone? Aleister had probably taken care of it. Sure enough, when she pulled up her inbox, she'd been copied on an email written to her boss in the Alakazam's formal, clinical tone. Great.

She shuffled the rest of the way down the hall in her borrowed tabi socks, old clothes and shoes dangling in a mesh laundry bag over her shoulder, and opened the door to her father's office with the key she always carried. The room was small and sparse, containing a desk, two chairs, a bookshelf, and tall filing cabinets. Everything important, from documents to her father's phone and laptop, were always kept locked away in drawers out of sight. The only decoration came from a few calligraphy banners in old Kantonian script, which espoused the benefits of hard work, perseverance, knowledge, and truth in their stark black strokes. May sighed and sat down in the chair opposite the desk to wait.

Precisely at eleven-fifteen, the door swung open, and her father entered. May stood up to greet him. He looked the same as he always did, though he was starting to get a few more wrinkles around the eyes and a few more grey hairs at his temple. He nodded at her and gestured for her to sit once more, then took his place behind the desk. "May. Shouldn't you be at work?"

No hello, good to see you, did something happen, why are you wearing those clothes. Those were all implied in the crease of his brow and the way his eyes briefly traced over her. May cleared her throat softly and sat up as straight as she could. "I was at work. But Steven called me up for more tests."

"I see." A slightly raised eyebrow, a piercing gaze; a normal father would have just asked the follow-up questions that were clearly on his mind, but he was pushing her to continue on her own terms. So she would.

"Dad. I need to talk to you. Do you remember Project Jade?"

Her father's hand clenched against the desk.

After the nightmares of Petalburg Woods and Granite Cave, Route 102 was almost disappointingly uneventful. No trees came to life to strangle them, no overleveled wilds sprang from around a bend to challenge them to a fight. It was just a long, peaceful walk along a well-trodden dirt road, with no danger or excitement to speak of.

Not that Hayley had expected danger. The practical part of her had prepared for it, but the truth was that Routes 101, 102, 103, and the southern half of 104 were some of the safest places in Hoenn. They were patrolled and maintained by Rangers to ensure paths stayed clear and dangerous Pokémon kept away, and if you stuck to the roads, you'd rarely see anything more dangerous than a Poochyena. With their teams as they stood now, Hayley and Miriam had nothing to fear.

In fact, they barely even saw any wild Pokémon. Those few who did approach usually turned tail and ran the second one of them made eye contact. Miriam had Xena and Yuna walking by her side, while Hayley was cycling through her team to keep two out at a time, and the sight of two humans and four trained Pokémon—one of which was a perpetually hungry Mawile and one of which was, sometimes, a flame-spewing Magmar—made even the boldest Taillow rethink their chances. Barrett was supremely disappointed at the lack of wildlife to fry, but Hayley assured him that things would pick up once they reached Cycling Road. The paths underneath it had been allowed to grow wild, and nearly all the resident wilds would be raring for a fight.

They passed the time by training. It made them walk slower, but that was fine; neither of them was in a particular hurry, though Miriam periodically complained about the idea of camping out. The autumn sun was pleasant and a warm breeze was blowing, and despite nerves about the encounter that loomed in Oldale ahead, Hayley's heart was light. They were doing endurance drills, at Hayley's insistence, since it was easier to keep those up while walking than it was to practice complicated techniques. Miriam had Xena repeatedly execute quick attacks and fire off thundershocks, while Yuna slipped through space with feint attacks and sliced through the air with fairy wind. For Ceres, just keeping up with the group was tiring enough, but Hayley added to it by having her maintain a small water pulse above her head, hoping it would help improve her multitasking. Sen blinked forward and backward with detect and struck the ground to pull up small rock tombs, and Barrett worked on his flame wheel and the start of a true flamethrower. Creating fire was no longer a problem for him, but prolonging and controlling it still proved to be a challenge—his instinct was to put everything he had into every single attack, which resulted in huge gouts of flame that only lasted for a few seconds before sputtering out. In battle, he was going to need to keep them going for longer than that. Between sets, Hayley and Miriam found time for a few conversations, and for all she insisted that she hated training sessions and was bored to tears, Miriam kept her eyes away from her phone for nearly the whole day.

By the time the sun sank low in the sky, they were more than two-thirds across the route and eager to settle down for the night. Hayley's feet were sore and her new backpack felt like it was rubbing her shoulders raw, and Miriam was almost literally wilting, though not as badly as she had been back on Route 104. Their Pokémon were all exhausted in their own ways, and all except for Sen dug into their dinners like they hadn't eaten for a week. Sen, who had already eaten that morning, instead helped Hayley and Miriam set up camp. Hayley was keeping a close eye on him, as well as her other Pokémon, to see if the vitamins were having any effect, and she couldn't see any changes yet. But then, it had only been a couple days, and change tended to happen slowly.

When everything was set up and Hayley was ready to cook her own dinner, she discovered a brand-new advantage of having a Magmar in her party: she no longer had to build a fire. She cleared the ground and dug a pit as usual, but instead of filling it with sticks, she called Barrett over to sit in the indentation. He was suspicious at first, but soon decided that being allowed to burn freely more than made up for having pots of water hung over his back. After the exertions of the day, his fire was low enough to cook over safely, and so Hayley and Miriam enjoyed a dinner of rehydrated noodles and vegetables heated by the flames of a living volcano. Connie called halfway through and was delighted to see what they were doing, though Hayley made her swear not to say anything to her mother. She was sure it was safe, but her mother certainly wouldn't see it the same way.

Night came on quickly. One by one, their Pokémon fell asleep and were recalled back into their balls. To avoid any jealousy issues with Barrett, who couldn't sleep outdoors without risking a wildfire, they'd agreed that the only Pokémon they'd keep out overnight would be Zero. The Porygon had been kept inactive all day to maintain his battery and would be given the job of keeping watch over their tents. Privately, Hayley figured there was a fifty percent chance of him actually staying alert and functional until dawn and a fifty percent chance of him glitching out partway through the night and collapsing into a tangled mess of polygons, but it was better than nothing. Now, Zero was floating above them and scanning the surroundings with his holographic eyes, while Hayley and Miriam sat around the remains of their Barrett campfire. He'd lasted the longest out of all their Pokémon, but now even his eyes were starting to droop, and his flames were flickering into nothing. As soon as he fell asleep, they would both go to bed.

"I still don't know how people do this for fun," Miriam was saying. She picked a dry leaf off the ground behind her, crumbled it in her hands, and dropped the remains over Barrett's vents, where they were swiftly consumed by flame. "If you like nature and all, that's great, but can't you like nature during the day and then go stay somewhere with indoor plumbing at night?"

"Well, real camping isn't about hanging out on the routes between cities," Hayley said. "It's about going up high in the mountains, or deep into forests, places it takes days to get to that you can only get to on foot."

"It wouldn't take days if you had a flier or a teleporter," Miriam pointed out. "You could go right up to wherever you wanted, look around, and then bam, go back for a shower and some real food."

"That's not really the point."

"Then what is the point? Masochism?"

"I think it's about getting away from things and being part of something bigger than yourself."

Naturally, Miriam scoffed. "At least we'll be in Mauville in a week. Though I guess that's going to suck too. Taking classes at the gym is probably going to be just as bad as going to school—ugh, I hope they don't make me do karate like they made you do—"

"Miriam." Hayley interrupted without thinking, and Miriam's new round of complaints fell silent. "I… Can I ask you something?"

Miriam shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Don't take this the wrong way. But…" Hayley chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering how to say what she wanted to say. Finally, she decided to just blurt it out. "Why are you still doing this?"

"Uh, you mean camping? I don't know if you remember, but you're the one who dragged me out—"

"Not just camping. I mean, all of this." She waved her hand to indicate everything around her, which did nothing to lift the confusion from Miriam's face. "Training," she said. "Traveling. Badges. I know you like winning battles, but you hate everything else about journeying—you don't like other trainers, you don't like being outside, you don't like training sessions, and you're not even excited about spending time at the gym. And, I'm just wondering why… If you're really so miserable, then why are you forcing yourself to keep going?"

Miriam scowled, but the expression vanished as quickly as it came. She looked away from Hayley and stared into Barrett's fire, pulling her knees closer to her chest. Far off in the distance, the sky flashed. Hayley tensed, waiting for the roll of thunder, but none came. They were okay for now.

"Don't tell anyone," Miriam suddenly muttered, so quietly that Hayley almost missed it. Hayley took her eyes from the horizon and turned to Miriam again.

"I won't. Don't tell them what?"

Miriam hunched over further, and her hair fell over her face. All Hayley could see was the glint of her glasses in the firelight. "Before. I told you that… That we came to Hoenn because it was far away. I don't know if you remember."

"I remember."

"And you asked why that mattered."

"Yeah."

"Well, the reason it mattered is because of my—my fucking dad." She dug her nails into the skin of her arms so fiercely that Hayley flinched, expecting to see blood. "He was an asshole, and we had to get away from him. That's why."

"Oh," Hayley whispered. "That's—I'm sorry—"

"Don't. Just shut up and listen, okay? I'm only going to tell you this once, and then you're never going to ask me about it again. He would do things to my mom, like hit her, and throw things, and—normally he wouldn't do anything to me except yell, but sometimes when my mom wasn't there and he got upset, he'd—" She broke off and swallowed, and in Hayley's mind's eye, there rose the image of an ugly crescent-shaped scar. "My—my mom put up with it for years, until she finally got up the fucking nerve to leave. And then… Afterwards, once we were here, she started getting really into League stuff. Following the Elite Four, buying all this merch, talking about training and battling, even though she'd never cared about that shit before. I think it was like, a power fantasy thing. Like if she'd been stronger, he wouldn't have been able to hurt us. And I know that's why she got me Xena, and why she forced me to start training. She wanted me to be able to fight back so I wouldn't end up like she did."

There was a pause, and Hayley wondered if she ought to say something now, but then Miriam continued. "I thought it was stupid. Because, I'm already not going to make the same mistakes she did. I'd have to be a moron to let some guy trap me and—and kick me around for years. But she kept acting like I needed to do this, and that it would help, and I was so pissed off about all of it, but…"

At last, she lifted her head, still facing the fire but looking at Hayley out of the corner of her eye. "I am getting stronger. I checked the stats, and I'm already better than half the people in our class. If Corbin, or Caleb, or whoever, tried to touch me, I could kick their ass. And you know, Connie, she—that guy attacked her, and if Marcie hadn't been able to protect her, then you know what would have happened. That's why I'm still doing this, Hayley. Because my mom was fucking right. If you're not strong enough to protect yourself, then nothing else matters."

The sky flashed again. Still no thunder. If they were lucky, the storm would keep moving away. Hayley hugged her arms to her chest. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I know you don't want me to say it, but—I'm sorry that all that happened to you."

"Yeah." Miriam unlatched her knees from her chest and stood up, dusting the dirt off her cargo shorts. "Like I said, don't tell anyone."

"I won't."

"And don't ever tell my mom I said she was right."

"I won't."

"Good."

Barrett was asleep by now, having drifted off while Miriam was talking. Hayley sighed, stood up herself, and recalled him. "I guess, uh… Do you want to talk about it more?"

"No."

"Then I guess I'll go to sleep." She looked up at the sky one more time. "If that thunderstorm gets closer, do you think Zero will warn us?"

Miriam shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe he'll fly off into it and get zapped by lightning. But my phone should get an alert if he glitches or goes offline, so at least that's something."

"Yeah."

In the moonlight, Hayley saw Miriam run a finger along the two balls still at her waist—her armor against the Reeses and fathers of the world. She must have lingered for too long, because Miriam tilted her head towards her and scoffed. "Aren't you going to bed?"

"Oh. Yeah. Um, goodnight, Miriam."

"Night." Hayley turned towards her tent, but as she stepped away, she heard Miriam mutter after her: "You can call me Miri, if you want."

Hayley spun around again. "What?"

"What? Nothing. I didn't say anything." Miriam crossed her arms and put her back to Hayley. "Stop hearing things and go to sleep."