An hour passed. The gang returned to relatively normal conversation. Hunger was getting to them. They'd left school before lunch. Steven and Kelsey started making frozen pizzas while Mitch and Tyler started a game of Conquest. Quinn, after realizing Natalie was deep in her own thoughts, sat down to join them.

  I have to tell them.

  That is a dangerous course of action.

  They're going to find out anyway. Isn't it more dangerous for them to find out from the news?

  Back and forth, Natalie and the voice argued. It seemed to think her friends could not be trusted, and Natalie couldn't agree. Quinn most certainly could be, and she'd long-since grown to trust the rest of the Gang. Natalie believed in them. She'd been blindsided by this latest news, but it didn't change her relationship with her friends.

  They have never been tested. You might be wrong.

  They got tested today. Any of them could've ditched me. They all left class on their own and came to find me.

  It is not the same.

  It's good enough.

  Natalie pulled out her phone. She wouldn't bring it up until after lunch. There was no point in ruining the pizzas with terrible news. In the meantime, she needed to check what was going on in the world—if the news about her school had spread, or if there was an update about Rika, or something about her dad, or the Greycloaks, so on.

  She had so many things to watch for in the news these days.

  A video floated up into her feed, something shared by hundreds of thousands of people across the country. Rika was in the title. Natalie opened her bag and willed it to rotate around to the pockets related to her phone, snatching up her earbuds so she could listen to the video in private.

  "Thirty-one murders, and who knows what else besides? There could be more."

  "Murder's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? By all accounts, these sound like self-defense."

  "Maybe in one place, but this is a pattern. People don't just keep getting into situations where they have to use lethal force to defend themselves. Either she's incredibly unlucky and dangerously lethal defending herself, or she's actively seeking these outcomes."

  "Nishimura's a killer, no doubt about it. Look at her. That's the face of a murderer."

  "Lock her up, I say."

  Natalie tensed up, watching the angry faces argue back and forth on her tiny phone screen. She didn't want to be listening to this, but she knew it was too important. Her stomach tied knots around itself as they kept talking, revulsion mixed with fear in unpleasant rumblings throughout her body.

  "That's no good. You heard their big speech in London. Our prisons mean nothing to them. Plus, if this girl's anything like the Winscombe chick, what's locking her up gonna do?"

  "I thought Winscombe is supposed to be a special case."

  "Like you're gonna trust their word? We can't just lock these people up. They're too dangerous."

  "So what, then?"

  "Federal crime. The death penalty's still around. Dangerous people who can't be kept under control have to be removed from our society. She fits the bill."

  "If she's convicted."

  "Oh, duh. Innocent until proven guilty. I'm just sayin', if they prove it, they better move fast, because you know sure as hell the rest of these 'awakened' are gonna try to do somethin' about it."

  "So kill Nishimura before they can get to her."

  "Exactly. Don't leave nothin' to chance."

  Natalie ripped the earbuds out. She was panting like she'd just run the mile again, without her magic—and in fact, her lungs burned and her chest ached as if she really had. Hearing them talk so bluntly, so openly about killing Rika… Would they really do it?

  It has been done. It could be again. We can't let that happen.

  Yeah…

  "Jen—er, Natalie?" asked Kelsey, just as she slid the first pizza onto the counter. Steven followed a moment later with the second one.

  "Let's eat," she replied, getting to her feet unsteadily. Quinn rushed toward her, but Natalie quickly waved him off. In her current state, she definitely couldn't let anyone nearby. They might overwhelm her completely.

  Two slices floated off the tray and onto a paper plate, flying in tandem with a can of soda across the room to Natalie. She fell back into her chair again, digging in, trying to distract herself from the rest of the room. The roof of her mouth burned from the hot cheese, and the soda taste barely registered on her tongue even as it fizzed down her throat, but Natalie didn't care. Just so long as she could get enough time to compose herself.

  There's not enough time anymore. I wanted more time. I just wanted to hang out with my friends.

  We must be gone soon. We can't stay here any longer. Our time in their world is past.

  Natalie didn't want to believe it. She refused to believe it.

  "Want to play another round after lunch?" she asked Tyler, between mouthfuls of pizza.

  He nodded eagerly. "You think you can beat me yet?"

  "...You can't," said Steven from the end of the table.

  "Huh?" asked Natalie, genuinely confused. Steven usually was on her side in the long-running challenge for the best of the group.

  "No, I mean… you guys can't play a game. After you eat, I think you should leave."

  Another branch torn away from Natalie's tree. She fell back into her chair, feeling more heartbroken than ever.

  "Why?" asked Kelsey, voicing the anger and confusion Natalie couldn't muster.

  "My mom said she might come home after lunch…" Steven glanced at the clock. It was still before noon, but Natalie knew the risk before he even voiced it. "If she sees Jenny… with that," he added apologetically, "I don't know what she'll do. Call the police for sure. Maybe worse."

  "That's so not fair," Kelsey snapped.

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   "Come on, man!" added Mitch, tossing his pizza down on the table dramatically.

  Natalie shook her head. She'd had enough. She couldn't taste her food anymore anyway. It flew off into the open trash can with a soft thump.

  "It's okay, Steven," she whispered.

  He looked like he might start crying. "I'm so sorry…" he murmured.

  She couldn't face him. Natalie knew it wasn't really his fault, but it didn't matter. She hurried out of the room, and the rest of the group was quick to follow. Only Quinn lingered behind, finally emerging from the apartment a couple minutes later. None of them spoke a word as they boarded the first bus to arrive. Only a few blocks later did Natalie finally speak up again.

  "I want to go home," she murmured, and though she had spoken softly, all four of them heard her, huddled close in the rear of the bus.

  "Yeah," agreed Quinn. "Back to my place. We'll go home."

  Natalie's eyes welled up, and she quickly looked away, because Quinn hadn't understood her in the slightest. For all the perceptiveness she credited him with, he'd said the exact opposite of what she needed to hear in that moment. Quinn's home was not her home. Maybe it could have been, but his parents were afraid, just as everyone was afraid.

  She leaned back against the seat cushions, laying her head down as best she could. Natalie wanted nothing more than to close her eyes, shut out the world again, but she couldn't do that. If something happened, her friends couldn't protect her, or even themselves. She always had to be ready. That was her new life. That was the way of the world now.

----------------------------------------

  As the bus neared the school, Natalie had a sudden thought. There was one person who'd stuck by her, one adult who persisted even with every new piece of horrible information spreading through the world like a virus. Natalie needed to know why. More importantly, she could do with some kind of comforting presence, some reassurance there were still good people in the world right now.

  She pulled the stop cord with a quick spell.

  "What was that?" Quinn asked. He hadn't seen the cord move, but he saw her mutter a spell, and he'd heard enough of them now to know what she was doing. Natalie was getting good at casting spells with only the barest whisper of sound, but she still had to say something to pull it off.

  "I need something from the principal," Natalie said quickly, as the bus ground to a halt in front of the school. Natalie hurried off, and her friends barely made it out behind her. The bus doors slammed closed, and a gust of wind seemed to push her forward as it rolled away—but the school was no longer a welcoming place of learning.

  A steady stream of people washed in and out of the school like ocean waves, right in front of them. Parents went in, and came back out with their children a few minutes later. Natalie watched, dumbstruck, as they walked right past her without so much as a second glance. Her hair was helping to cover her scar, but still—wasn't she the reason they were taking their kids away?

  I'm right here! Aren't they going to get mad at me?

  They do not fear you. They fear what you represent. They don't know you.

  Natalie shook her head at the insanity of it all. She motioned for her friends to wait behind—she wouldn't be long, and she wanted to talk to the principal in private. Natalie hurried into the school, past another few scurrying parents with their kids. Some looked excited to be leaving school early, while others shared the same fearful expressions as the adults. Natalie hurried past with her face low and posture forward, doing everything she could to hide her identity.

  Raised voices drew her into the principal's office like a beacon. Natalie walked right up to the door, listening carefully. It didn't sound like a parent—in fact, it sounded more like the principal was talking to somebody above her. I thought she was in charge of the whole school. So this is like… somebody from the city, I guess?

  "...and don't cite Title IX to me! I ran on Title IX!"

  "We both know education board races are practically free."

  "Are you getting snippy with me?"

  "I'm twice your age, young woman. I'll be as snippy as I damn well please. Natalie Hendricks is welcome in this school. There is no legal justification to remove her."

  "Being 'awakened' isn't covered by anti-discrimination law. She's practically carrying weapons into the school."

  "I guess we'd better outlaw scissors then."

  "Watch i—"

  "You should know that both the Title IX coordinator and the other directors of the Board agree with me."

  "You… You..." The other woman in the room seemed flabbergasted, with an incredulous tone bordering on comical. Natalie wondered what expression was on her face. In another situation, she might have found it funny. "You went behind my back?"

  "I like to think I went beside it, personally."

  "But—"

  "We're practically on the border of the district. I contacted Zachary, and he passed it onto the rest of the Board without my knowledge." The principal was smug beyond her words, though Natalie had spoken to her enough now to recognize the stress and exhaustion lurking beneath.

  "They aren't the ones dealing with angry voters right now."

  "I'm sure they will be soon enough."

  "This isn't over."

  "I have no doubt."

  Footsteps toward the door. Natalie stepped to the side, but she wasn't fast enough. It swung wide, and a harried young woman in a sharp business suit and skirt stared down at her.

  Her eyes went wide. "Are you—"

  "Yes," said Natalie, before the principal could respond.

  The woman opened and closed her mouth a few times, lost for words. Finally, she hurried out of the room, with several nervous glances back toward Natalie as she left.

  "I'm sorry about that, Natalie," said the principal. "Please, come in."

  "Who was that?" asked Natalie, closing the door and sitting down in the chair.

  "The director for our school district. She's not handling this very well." The principal sighed, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Natalie. I wish I had better news for you right now."

  "I can't come back," said Natalie, nodding slowly.

  The principal's eyes snapped open. "No!" she practically shouted. "You are still a member of this school, and you are welcome to attend every class you want. That hasn't changed." She shook her head. "I just meant… well, everything else, I suppose. We're still going to fight though."

  "...Why?"

  The principal looked taken aback. She didn't answer, and Natalie realized she hadn't been very clear.

  "Why are you fighting so hard for me?"

  The principal sighed again, and it was so drenched in exhaustion Natalie felt like collapsing under the sheer weight of her voice alone. "Because I didn't last time."

  "Huh?"

  "I've been in the business of running schools for a very long time, Natalie. Forty years, actually, as of September. This isn't the first time this sort of thing has happened."

  "...Oh," said Natalie. "But magic didn't exist before."

  She smiled. "No, and I wish to God that these other children had been given such a gift as you hold. Instead, they were sick with something incurable, and parents were afraid their own might get sick too. It was impossible to get sick just sharing a school with what these kids had, but the parents were too afraid to listen to reason. Something quite similar to today started happening, students pulled out of schools and protests against the system."

  "And you had to fight then too?"

  The principal shook her head. "I wish I had. I let it happen. I didn't protect those students. I caved into pressure. I was on the wrong side."

  "Oh…" Natalie felt like she should be mad, but the principal looked so ashamed and regretful, Natalie knew she didn't deserve it.

  "Bright young kids who just wanted to go to school." The principal smiled weakly. "Just like you. I'm trying to do better, and that's why I'm not going to give up. For their sake and for yours, I'm going to keep fighting."

  "I…" Natalie was truly touched, but it only added to the mounting guilt weighing about her shoulders. She's doing so much for me, and I might not even come back. "Thank you."

  "Now," said the principal, setting aside her papers. "What can I do for you, Natalie?"

  Natalie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. There were things she could ask, like what to do about Rika, or Steven's mom, or even just advice on where she should go next, but Natalie couldn't say anything. The world had turned itself inside-out today, and Natalie was only barely hanging on as it was. The principal might be fighting for her, but Natalie wasn't really like those other kids, as nice as the thought might be. They were sick, she had magic—and worse, she had done things they couldn't possibly have done. Would the principal think differently of Natalie if she knew the truth?

  She has a cause worth fighting for. No matter your feelings, the idea that awakened should be treated the same as the rest is noble. We should not take that from her.

  Yeah…

  Let her continue the fight. Even if she finds out the truth eventually, she will have set the wheels in motion to protect others.

  Natalie finally shook her head. "I just… we were on our way back to Quinn's, and I wanted to come say thank you."

  The principal looked taken aback once again, overcome with emotion. She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. Natalie felt uncomfortable—adults crying always sent her back to Rallsburg again, or to Jessica's funeral. "That's… that's very kind of you, Natalie."

  "I think you're a really good principal, Mrs…" Natalie trailed off. "I… I don't actually know your name," she added, embarrassed. The principal didn't keep a nameplate on her desk, and Natalie had never learned her name over her few months at the school—particularly since everyone had always just used the 'evil queen' nickname. "Sorry…"

  The principal barked out a laugh, and had to dab at her eyes again as she replied. "Well, I didn't know yours until this week, so it's only fair." She smiled. "Frieda Talbot."

  "Natalie Hendricks." Natalie smiled back. "I promise, I'll come back to school someday."

  Principal Talbot nodded. "I'll make sure it's still here for you." She waved a hand in the air lazily. "Don't you have friends waiting? Hurry up, now."