Maggie backed up and stood against the door, steadying herself. For years she'd been dreaming about this, going over scenarios in her head, making up scenes in which she'd get the opportunity to talk one-on-one with Max Everhart. She'd never actually expected it to happen. Max was practically a celebrity, the whole city knowing him as the boy who'd created the Supernova—although there were dozens of different theories as to what the Supernova was and what exactly Max's role in it had been. Besides that, Max was the adopted son of Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden, two of the original Council members, who still held high sway over the community despite the fact that the Council was no longer an oligarchy. And he was the adopted brother of Adrian Everhart, who in addition to his own claims to fame as Sketch and the Sentinel, also happened to be dating Nova Artino, the former villain known as Nightmare. Despite her occasional interactions with Sketch and—ugh—Nova during her time as a Renegade, Maggie had never thought she'd have a chance of getting anywhere near that family.

But now she and Max were standing in the same small shop, barely ten feet away from each other.

Maggie slowly stepped forward, her mouth dry. Now that the moment was finally here, she had no idea what she was going to say. She'd always thought her first question for Max would be about what it had been like to wear Ace Anarchy's helmet, to have all the superpowers in the world pouring into him. But now… would maybe something like Hey, I'm Maggie be better?

Maggie crept over to the aisle Max was standing in, the shelves of which were primarily stocked with collectible figurines and valuable dinnerware. Max was examining a china dish, turning it from side to side. He placed it back on the shelf and picked up the next item, an elegant wine glass. What is he doing? she thought, watching him set the glass back down and pick something else up.

Maggie opened her mouth to ask him, but closed it just as quickly. What was she doing? He'd probably think she'd been spying on him or something. Why was she even trying to talk to him anyway? She should just go wait in line behind that stupid customer and sell her stupid items and get her stupid money.

But just as she was considering doing this, Max turned around and saw her. He did a little bit of a double take, then smiled. "Hi."

Maggie didn't have time to think, to run, to do anything. She could feel her cheeks getting hot as she floundered for something to say. "Um, I, uh, I—I—what's that you're holding?"

Max looked down at the object in his hand and furrowed his brow before looking back up at her. "A… bowl?"

Maggie's blush grew even deeper as she realized that it was indeed a pretty ordinary-looking china bowl, blue and white with a rim plated in silver.

"Oh," was all she could think of to say.

"You were a Renegade once, right?" Max asked, placing the bowl back on the shelf.

"Um, yeah," Maggie squeaked out, hating how she couldn't get her brain to form an intelligent sentence.

"Yeah… I remember seeing you a few times at Headquarters. But not anytime recently."

Maggie shook her head, reeling with shock over the fact that this conversation was taking place, and over what he'd just said. I remember seeing you a few times at Headquarters. Max remembered her! He remembered her! "I remember you too," she mumbled.

"What are you doing these days?" Max asked, as if they were old friends who'd lost touch over time, rather than people who'd never once actually spoken to one another.

Maggie didn't want to answer. How was she supposed to tell Max Everhart that she was living in an abandoned theater, buying necessities with money that came from stealing valuables from random passers-by, involved with a gang, and scheming and plotting to obtain the most valuable, dangerous object ever invented and become the world's next supervillain?

"Not much," she replied. "What about you?" Sweet marvels, she sounded ridiculous.

But Max's grin broadened, his brown eyes lighting up. "Just enjoying as much of the world as I can! For most of my life, I was relegated to a single room at Headquarters, never able to go outside or make friends or even walk around the building." His expression faded into a sheepish grin. "Sorry. We haven't even officially met and I'm already telling you my life story." He held out his hand to her. "I'm Max."

As if she didn't know that.

"Maggie," she said, shaking his hand. For a moment she wondered if the world was wrong in assuming Max no longer had any powers—his touch sent a series of strange tingles through her body, the likes of which she'd never felt before. Then she realized that the tingles didn't have anything to do with powers, and quickly let go of his hand, her face flushing once more.

Max was grinning, and for a moment, Maggie almost hoped he'd felt the same sensation she had. But all he said was, "It's nice to meet you, Maggie. Officially."

Think of something to say! she commanded herself. He was going to lose interest quickly if she just stood there like a statue.

She asked the first question that came to her mind. "Why did you have to be in the quarantine?" She knew it had had something to do with whatever powers he'd had before the Supernova, but nobody had ever bothered to explain to her exactly what those powers were.

"Oh," Max's grin faded a little, and Maggie instantly wished she could take the question back. "I had the power of absorption," he explained. "Whenever a prodigy got near me, I'd automatically start sucking all their powers into myself. If they stayed in my presence for too long, I'd get all their powers, and they wouldn't be prodigies anymore."

Oh. Maggie felt like an idiot for not making the connection before. She'd known Ace Anarchy's helmet magnified the abilities of whoever was wearing it. She'd known there had been a brief moment in which Max had been wearing the helmet and had absorbed all the powers in the world before giving them back to their original owners and then some. How had she not realized what Max's original power was?

"But you don't have that power anymore," she stated. "You don't have any powers anymore." She cringed as soon as she finished speaking, hoping he didn't think she was trying to rub it in.

But Max's grin returned at those words. "Nope. And I actually really like just being ordinary. I mean, don't get me wrong, some of my powers were pretty cool, but I always felt bad about them too. You know, because they originally belonged to other people."

Maggie became acutely aware of the feeling of her purse pressed against her side, and the objects in there: the earring, the buckle, the watch. All of which had originally belonged to other people.

"What's your power?" Max asked.

"Mine?" Maggie's mind raced. Had Sketch ever told him about Magpie, the little pickpocket he'd caught multiple times filching from civilians and her fellow Renegades alike? Would he make the connection if she told him her actual powers?

It didn't matter. "Asset perception and a little bit of telekinesis," she admitted.

"Ooh, telekinesis was one of my favorites," Max said excitedly. "That and turning invisible. Adrian's gift would have been one of my favorites too if I was any good at drawing. And if I didn't feel bad about stealing it from him. What's asset perception?"

"I can pretty much sense the value of things around me. How much they're worth and all that."

"Really?" Max's eyes lit up. "That sounds pretty cool. I guess you can't ever get ripped off if you're trying to buy jewelry, huh?"

"Nope." Or if I'm trying to sell it.

They both stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, while Maggie's mind raced for a way to keep the conversation going. "What are you doing here?" she blurted out. "I mean, are you shopping for something in particular, or just looking around?"

"I'm trying to find a birthday present for my dad," Max replied with a rueful shrug. "The party's tonight and I have no idea what to get him. I just came here for ideas."

"Which dad?" Maggie asked.

"Simon. The Dread Warden. I feel like I don't know him as well as I should, with regard to birthday gifts and things like that. We were never able to actually be in the same room together until I was ten."

If Max was expecting pity for not being able to be in the same room with his father for all those years, Maggie didn't have any. At least Max had a father. Two, actually, and a brother. That was a lot more family than Maggie could ever remember having.

Not like she cared.

"How old are you now?" she asked.

"Fourteen. What about you?"

"Also fourteen." Maggie didn't know her actual date of birth—no one did—but landlord who'd brought her to the children's home she'd grown up in had said she was about a year old at the time, which meant she was probably born sometime in February. The staff had arbitrarily chosen February 9th to be her birthday. When Maggie was younger, she'd wondered what her actual birthday was, just like she'd wondered about the names of her parents and the older sister who'd disappeared without a trace. By the time she was around ten or eleven, though, she'd decided it didn't matter.

"What did you get your dad for his birthday last year?" she asked Max.

"A shirt," Max replied. "And it was only after he opened it that I realized it was kind of a weird gift. A shirt for someone who can turn invisible? He said he liked it, but I don't know."

"He's not invisible all the time," Maggie pointed out. "Everyone needs shirts."

"Yeah…" Max swept his gaze up and down the aisles for a moment, then sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I want to get him something special; I just don't know what."

Maggie pictured the watch again, snug in her handbag. The watch was special. Any dad would love to get that as a gift, right? It would put a huge dent in her earnings for the day—the earring and boot buckle weren't worth much—but she could sacrifice a day's pay to help out Max Everhart, right?

But just as her hand started reaching into the purse, his words resounded in her head again: I always felt bad about them too. You know, because they originally belonged to other people.

Max wouldn't want to give his dad a stolen watch. Maggie knew that with absolute certainty.

"I'll help you look around," she offered instead. "I don't know what your dad likes, but if I see something cool I'll point it out to you."

Max looked surprised, but maybe a little bit pleased with the offer. "All right," he agreed. "Thank you."

He turned back to the shelves, and Maggie darted into the adjacent aisle, her heart pounding as she tried to get her bearings. That had just happened. She'd just had a conversation with Max Everhart. A real conversation, not an imagined one. Max was just as nice as she'd expected him to be, just as humble and friendly as he'd always seemed. Max had every right to be boastful and proud—after all, he was the kid who'd pretty much singlehandedly saved the world. But he wasn't about all that. He was just happy to be out in the community, trying to find a present for his dad.

"You got anything for me, kid?" August's gruff voice startled her from her thoughts, and she looked over toward the counter, seeing that the other customer had left.

Maggie took a step forward, about to go up and complete the transaction she'd come into the pawn shop for in the first place. Before she made it to the counter, though, she stopped, looking over at Max, who was examining a literal silver platter.

"Give me a few minutes," she told August, walking over to the lit display case where a lot of the more expensive items were held.

Finding a gift for the Dread Warden proved to be more difficult than Maggie had anticipated. Partly because she had no idea what he would like, and partly because she didn't want Max to give him any of the items she had brought in—which made up a good percentage of the smaller objects.

Some of this other stuff might have been stolen too, she reasoned, examining a diamond-encrusted silver letter opener. And even if he does end up getting something you brought in, it's not like he'd know it was stolen. Or who stole it. It's not like he—

Maggie froze, sensing it before she saw it. Her eyes darted to the shelf next to the case, where a few animal-shaped figurines sat, watching over the jewelry. One of the figurines in particular had caught her attention.

She picked it up and examined it. It was fairly small, just the right size to fit in her palm, and it wore an expression that almost made it seem like its eyes were staring right at her. And what was it made of? It looked like copper, but with a shinier, rosier hue, and its signature felt…

It felt like Nova's bracelet, the one Maggie had tried to steal on more than one occasion. For a brief amount of time, Maggie had possessed that bracelet, and she'd kept it safe in her pocket with her good-luck charm, the bullet that had given her her powers when she was shot as a baby. Even back then, Maggie had never quite been able to pinpoint what the bracelet was made of. Some sort of copper alloy, perhaps. She hadn't paid too much attention, as the stone the bracelet had held at the time was far more intriguing and mysterious.

But whatever the bracelet had been made of, this bird was made of the same material.

Maggie focused all her attention on the bird, trying to puzzle out its composition. It had a certain warmth to it, the kind of vibrancy she'd come to recognize as belonging to prodigy-made artifacts. It was moderately valuable, to the extent that she wondered why August was keeping it next to the display case rather than inside it. But somehow, it was also… familiar. It felt… like home.

Stupid, Maggie chided herself, placing the bird back on the shelf. Maggie had never had a home to go to, so how would she know what "home" felt like? She wasn't sure which "home" had been worse: the Prodigy Children's Home, where she'd been surrounded by freaks who kept her up all hours of the night whistling like teapots and turning into animals, or the Renegades, where every single thing she did had to be for them, where people like Sketch watched her with eagle eyes, making her return every single thing they caught her stealing.

Back to work, she directed herself. Something the Dread Warden would like… hmm… She moved over to examine the other items on the shelf, and stopped when she saw another figurine, or rather, four figurines standing on a platform together. The Dread Warden himself, with Captain Chromium, Sketch, and Max.

She bit her lip, feeling a little awkward as she picked it up and examined it. Whoever had made it had done a good job capturing the facial features of each of the subjects, and it was weird to be holding a small likeness of Max Everhart when the real Max Everhart was just a few aisles away. Would he like this, or be weirded out by it? she wondered.

"Find anything yet?" Max's eager face peeked around the corner, and Maggie jumped.

"Uhhh, no, not really. Still looking," she said quickly.

"What's that?" Max moved closer, looking at the item still clutched in her hands.

"Oh, it's just… I don't know, he'd probably think it was weird…"

Max's eyes grew wide, and he held his hand out toward the item. "That's perfect," he breathed.

"It is?" She loosened her grip and allowed her shoulders to relax.

"Yeah. There's a whole bunch of Captain Chromium and Dread Warden stuff, but I don't think I've ever seen anything with the whole family like this; not this well-done at least. He'll love it!" Max's fingers brushed against hers as he took the item from her, and Maggie once again felt that strange tingling sensation that had nothing to do with powers. She shoved both of her hands into her pockets.

"Thank you so much," Max said, his eyes looking into hers for a solid moment, before he broke eye contact and glanced around the store. "What are you here for? Anything I can help you find?"

"I'm all set," Maggie replied quickly.

Max gave her an odd look but didn't question her as they walked up to the register.

Maggie stood behind Max as August processed his order. Max wasn't particularly tall, but he was several inches taller than she was, his poofy hair making him appear even more so. He had a slight build, not particularly muscular or attention-grabbing, but he walked with an easy confidence, and why was she having these kinds of thoughts?

Max stepped aside, clutching his purchase, and August's emerald-green eyes bored into Maggie. "What do you have today?" he asked.

For the second time, Maggie considered pulling the items out of her purse and making the transaction. That was what she did. That was what she had always done. She needed the money. Her cause needed the money.

But Max was right next to her. He'd ask where she'd gotten the items, and then maybe probe about what other items she'd sold in the past and where she had gotten those.

Max did not need to know any of the details.

"Nothing," she told August with a bright smile. "Just browsing today. See you later!"

She walked out of the store with Max, instinctively turning right, the way she always did to get home. She realized a split second later that Max had turned left.

He stopped, noticing she wasn't still next to him, and turned around. "Do you come here often?" he asked, gesturing to the pawn shop.

"Here? Uh, yeah, sometimes. Occasionally." Ugh, what was it about Max that made her so tongue-tied? She could usually lie so smoothly to people that even she barely realized she was lying.

"Cool," said Max with a smile that seemed, for the first time since she'd met him, maybe a little self-conscious. "Maybe I'll see you around again sometime? Thanks for helping me." He held up the gift and gave her a little wave before turning back around and heading down the street.

Maggie watched him go, half wanting to follow him, though she stayed rigidly put. It occurred to her, once he was out of sight, that she could go back into the pawn shop and make her trade with August. But she didn't. Instead, she continued on her way to the Starlight Theatre, to her gang.