The question came when Cassie least expected it.
She was halfway through closing her locker when Troy's voice appeared beside her.
"Hey… Cassie?"
Her heartbeat instantly forgot how to behave.
She turned slowly.
"…Hi."
Troy rubbed the back of his neck — a rare sign he was nervous.
"So… the school dance is this Friday."
Cassie nodded. Everyone knew about it.
Too many decorations.
Too much noise.
Too many emotions.
Too many ways for things to go wrong.
Troy inhaled once.
"Would you go with me?"
Time paused.
Cassie felt the surge begin immediately—
A flicker danced in her vision.
Her eyes threatened blue.
Marisa, who had been spying from two lockers away, mouthed:
GLASSES. REMEMBER THE GLASSES.
Cassie blinked rapidly, forcing the energy down.
Then—
She smiled.
"I'd like that."
Troy's face broke into a grin.
"Really?"
"Really."
Behind them, Baker whispered to Marisa—
"She's glowing. Abort emotional overload."
Marisa whispered back—
"Too late."
Troy studied Cassie a moment.
"You know… you're kind of funny when you get nervous."
Cassie swallowed.
"I am?"
"Yeah," he said softly.
"And I like you more because of it."
The electricity settled.
Not gone.
But calmer.
For once…
She didn't run.
---
Rare Choice
Across the courtyard later, Troy's friends circled him immediately.
"You asked her?!" Wesley shouted.
"And she said yes?" M.J. added.
Troy nodded, trying — and failing — to hide his smile.
Wesley clapped him on the back.
"You got the rarest choice in school."
Troy frowned. "What does that mean?"
"It means," M.J. said dramatically, "everyone likes Cassie, but nobody understands her enough to try."
Troy leaned against the fence.
"I don't need to understand everything."
He glanced toward the building.
"I just need to understand her."
---
Permission
That evening, Cassie approached her mother carefully.
"Mom?"
Andrea looked up from her book and immediately recognized the tone.
"What is it?"
"There's a school dance…"
Andrea sighed softly. "I assumed this conversation was coming eventually."
"And Troy asked me."
Andrea studied her daughter's face — the quiet hope there.
"You want to go."
"Yes."
Andrea walked to the window, thinking.
Every crowded space was a risk.
Every emotional spike unpredictable.
But Cassie was fourteen now.
And hiding forever was not living.
"You'll wear the stabilizing glasses," Andrea said finally.
Cassie nodded quickly.
"You stay aware of your pulse."
"I will."
"And if anything feels wrong—"
"I leave immediately."
Andrea exhaled.
"…Then go."
Cassie nearly launched herself into a hug.
Andrea laughed softly.
"When did you grow up this fast?"
---
Designers at Work
The night before the dance, Cassie's house transformed into controlled chaos.
Fabric draped over chairs.
Shoes scattered everywhere.
Sketches covered the table.
Marisa held up a deep midnight-blue dress.
"This one matches the mysterious lightning vibe."
Baker shook her head.
"Too obvious."
Cassie stood in front of the mirror wearing her glasses while Marisa adjusted a sleeve.
"You know," Marisa said thoughtfully, "if the whole power thing doesn't work out, we are absolutely starting a fashion empire."
Andrea watched from the doorway, warmth filling her chest.
These girls were no longer just Cassie's friends.
They were her chosen family.
Her daughters in every way that mattered.
"You all have excellent taste," Andrea said.
Baker smirked. "Naturally."
Andrea's gaze softened.
"Take care of each other tomorrow."
Marisa saluted dramatically.
"Always."
---
The Dance
Lights shimmered across the gymnasium.
Music pulsed.
Students laughed beneath strings of gold decorations.
For a little while…
Cassie forgot about being hunted.
Troy met her near the entrance — and froze.
"You look…" He searched for the word.
"Wow."
Cassie felt warmth creep into her cheeks.
"Good wow?"
"The best kind."
They moved to the dance floor.
Slow music replaced the louder songs.
Troy offered his hand.
Cassie took it.
No surge.
No flicker.
Just quiet electricity humming somewhere deep inside her.
"You're not running," Troy observed.
"I'm trying something new."
He smiled.
"Keep trying."
For a moment…
The world felt astonishingly normal.
---
Then Everything Stopped
The gym doors opened.
Once.
Twice.
Then all of them.
Music cut abruptly.
Shoes echoed against polished floors.
Students turned.
Agents poured in with controlled precision, forming a perimeter within seconds.
No panic.
No shouting.
Just quiet authority.
At their center walked a composed woman in a dark suit.
Mary Elisabeth.
Her voice carried gently across the room.
"Good evening. Please remain calm. We are conducting a federal retrieval."
Cassie's stomach dropped.
Troy looked between her and the agents.
"…Cassie?"
Mary approached slowly — palms visible.
No threat.
"Cassie Johnson," she said kindly.
"I'm Mary Elisabeth. You are not in trouble."
The room trembled with whispers.
Cassie's pulse began climbing.
Mary noticed instantly.
From her pocket, she produced a small wrapped candy.
"May I?" she asked softly.
Cassie blinked — surprised — and took it.
"You're safe," Mary continued.
"We're here to ensure you remain that way."
Cassie scanned the terrified faces around her.
Marisa.
Baker.
Lincoln.
Troy.
Fear could trigger her.
She knew that.
So she did the bravest thing she could think of.
She walked forward.
Untouched.
Unforced.
"I'll come," she said quietly.
Mary nodded once — impressed.
The agents parted.
And just like that…
They escorted her out.
The doors closed.
The music never resumed.
---
Aftermath
Troy turned slowly toward Marisa and Baker.
"…You knew."
It wasn't a question.
Baker held his gaze.
"Yes."
His expression hardened.
"She's some kind of wanted… weapon?"
Marisa stepped forward, furious.
"She is NOT a weapon!"
Lincoln added coldly, "Choose your words carefully."
Baker sighed.
"Show him."
Before Marisa could protest—
Baker's eyes burned gold.
The air shimmered.
Three Bakers stood where one had been.
The illusions vanished.
Troy staggered back slightly.
"You're… like her."
"One of many," Baker replied.
Marisa crossed her arms.
"And you just stood there judging her."
Troy looked toward the doors Cassie had disappeared through.
"I didn't know what to think."
Lincoln's voice sharpened.
"You could have thought about who she is — not what she can do."
But Troy wasn't ready to apologize.
Not yet.
He turned and walked away.
Marisa watched him go, anger blazing.
"Unbelievable."
Baker exhaled slowly.
"He's shocked. Shock makes people stupid."
Lincoln looked toward the night outside.
"The real problem isn't Troy."
It was what came next.
Silence settled between them.
Marisa whispered—
"What do we tell Andrea?"
"And Madam Davina…" Baker added quietly.
None of them had an answer.
Far away, inside a secured vehicle, Cassie stared out the window as city lights blurred past.
Her reflection flickered faint blue.
The crown was no longer hiding.
And now…
Neither was she.