#sharon moore

“Sis, what are you doing?” Travis asked, grunting as he wiggled his way onto the bottom-most branch of the tree in their backyard. It was an ash tree that had seen so many kids in its branches, it may as well grow children. “Mom says it’s time to start dinner.”

He stopped when he finally saw his sister’s face. “Why’re you cryin?”

She sniffled, the way she did when she was trying to not cry, but it was too late. It had been so hard to see before, because she was all huddled up in the top branches. But now it was impossible to miss. Her face was the ruddy sort of flushed that blotted out her freckles.

“I’m fine.” she squawked.

“No you’re not.” he droned. Though ‘dummy’ went unsaid, it was heard loud and clear in his tone.

Anita made a growling noise, her legs plopping down to the next branch down. “What are you, 12?” she mumbles, wiping at her face with the cuff of her sleeves.

He made a face at her, because he was 12.

She flounced through the back door, quickly scuttling to the fridge to grab an onion. She immediately started slicing it on the cutting board as quickly as she could.

“Anita?”

Anita clenched her teeth, not looking up from her work. “Yeah, mom?”

“What’s going on?”

It was her own fault really, and she knew it. The schedule was tight for a reason, and she needed to do her part. If Anita wasn’t doing prep work for dinner then that meant dinner wouldn’t be on time, which meant everything would fall into shambles. Of course Mom would notice and get invested.

“Nothing.” she said with a flouncy little shrug, still slicing. The silence crept up her vertebrae, but she refused to break under the pressure.

“You’re sure?” That was Mom’s 'I’m not buying it’ tone.

Anita took a breath through her nose, letting the onions filter in. She forced herself to slow down, trying to let some of the tension leak out of her body. “I think my period’s about to start soon.” she grumbled, shaking her head. “I saw that old video with Jagger and Bowie singing dancing in the streets.” she let out a breathy chuckle. “It’s ridiculous.”

She knew she was in the clear when she heard Mom chuckle. She almost felt guilty when Mom patted her shoulder.

“I miss him too, baby.” she muttered before letting out a heavy sigh. “I’ll be at my bureau if you need anything.”

Mom’s bureau desk was an ancient thing she had inherited from her grandmother. A behemoth that fit snugly in the alcove hallway that led to her bedroom. It folded up nicely until she needed the desk. The shell was a weathered turquoise, while the “drawers” were all dark stained wood. Mom spent the time before dinner there, going through mail and bills.

Anita did her best to hide the sigh of relief as she continued dicing up the onions. She snatched an errant hair tie from one of the drawer pulls… Mom had them everywhere because she was used to working in a kitchen as well. Both of them were used to tying up their hair while working with food…though Anita’s didn’t look as cute as Mom’s. Mom had natural curls that just looked cute no matter what she did with it.

“I was thinking I could just.. make spaghetti tonight.” she said, as evenly as she could manage.

“Sounds good.” Mom said, in that way that she had that made it seem as though she’d heard and understood but wasn’t entirely paying attention.

All was well.

Now, if only Travis would stop side-eying her like he was a private detective and some infamous McGuffin had gone missing.

With the onions sauteing in butter and salt, she began focusing on the meat. Setting out the seasonings for that while the onions got nice and loosey-goosey. Let’s see… Italian seasoning, salt, pepper, basil, and a touch of cayenne. May as well get what she’d need for the sauce out of the pantry too-two cans of diced tomato and one can of tomato sauce.

She blinked in shock when she heard the doorbell. A visitor?…this late?

“I’ll get it.” Travis volunteered, sauntering over to the front door and freezing in place.

Anita started stirring in the spices she’d already sprinkled on the meat, so that they mixed properly. She left the spices out because she knew she’d need them for the sauce later…

“Who is it?” Mom asked.

“Uh… Mom, I know that rule we got about strangers and all, but… I mean, we kinda know him.”

“Travis Roy.” A middle name was the first warning.

“It’s Batman.”

Anita stared at the meat in the mixing bowl in front of her, the sounds of onions sizzling, and then the stark squeals of the wheels of Mom’s chair creaking as she abruptly stood.

Her chest felt tight as she saw the blur of Mom blur past the kitchen doorway to the front room. On autopilot, she dumped the seasoned meat into the pot, her ears straining to pick up any noise from the front room.

“Travis, come here.” she heard her mother say. “Bryce! Jeremiah!”

“I didn’t do it!” came the chorus from above.

“Get down here!”

Thunder from above sounded down the stairs, the pair of them crashing into Mom before Jeremiah (the youngest) crowded, “Whoooa!”

Anita took the can opener and the colander out, setting the colander aside, she started on the cans.

"Mom, why’s Batman on our front porch?” Bryce asked, stepping back and looking up as his mom.

“I am wondering the same thing.”

“We had’t done anything!” Jeremiah protested.

“You haven’t done anything.” Travis corrected.

“Yeah!”

Travis rolled his eyes.

“I mean… the compost pile’s a little bigger than we wanted it to be, but the neighbors probably need one anyway.” Bryce said with a shrug as he careened to look up at Mom.

Anita can hear Mom sigh from in the kitchen. “I don’t think Batman would be here for something like garbage sailing over the back fence, boys.” Mom said evenly, which was a deceptive tone. “Now, I have all my ducklings here… Why exactly is Batman here?”

“Sharon Moore?” Batman’s voice was like distant thunder.

“Yes.”

“May I come inside?”

Bryce tugged on Mom’s sleeve, whispering, “Don’t invite him inside, Mom. He can’t come in if you don’t.”

“He’s not a vampire, Bryce.” Travis whispered back.

Bryce half hid behind Mom before sulking. “At least with vampires, there’s rules.” …he was such a strange and endearing child. He stared up at Batman, nuzzling into Mom’s left hip.

“Batman makes his own rules, because he’s Batman.” Travis grumbles as he steps closer to Mom, bumping Jeremiah behind him.

Mom put a hand on top of either of the boy’s heads without breaking eye contact with Batman, and they both went silent. “Boys… The house makes the rules, and the house always wins.” Perhaps it was because she sensed the growing panic in the smols, but Mom’s voice was eerily calm. Like… gothic-victorian-lady-barely-containing-the-inner-psycho calm.

“I assure you, I have no intention of bringing any harm into your house.” Batman began. “But there are things that I must discuss with you, and I’m certain those things are better left behind closed doors.”

In that weighted moment when Mom considered those words, Anita drained the grease from the cooked meat into the grease jar and dumped the tomato cans in with the onions and meat. Then the seasoning.

“Please… come inside.”

Anita feels her shoulders droop as she hears the front door close.

She seasons the sauce, getting another pot ready with water for the pasta.

“Are these all of your foster children?”

“They're my children.” Mom says with such severity, that it’s enough to make Anita smile even through her nerves. “My daughter is in the kitchen.”

“Your daughter Anita?”

Anita stirred the meat-onion-tomato mixture together and salted the pasta water. She swallowed hard, reaching instinctively for the beaded bracelet on her left wrist, her fingers rolling over the crystal and jasper beads.

The pause is too long. Way too long.

“Anita, can you come in here, please?”

“I’m waiting on the pasta water, Mom.” Anita croaks.

“Put it on simmer.”

Anita nods, to herself mostly, putting both burners on simmer and trudging into the front room. Mom doesn’t look at her, maintaining eye contact with Batman. Anita keeps her eyes down…. The boys are watching everything, little heads swaying and bobbing back and forth like there’s a tennis match going down in the living room. Mom’s gaze slowly shifts, her eyes coming to rest on Anita’s left wrist.

She knows. Of course she knows. Anita knows it too. Everyone knows that when Anita starts fiddling with her bracelet is a tell, but in spite of the dead give-away, she can’t help herself. It’s her coping mechanism, and dammit she needs help coping right now! She doesn’t really focus on the soft click-clacking of the beads, but the way the oils of her skin smooth over the stones’ surfaces.

Mom turned back to face Batman. “Speak your piece.” she demanded, her stance relaxing. 

Batman’s eyes narrowed somewhat. “This morning our team encountered an individual on the Metro-Narrows bridge. This encounter led to an altercation. We have reason to believe that your daughter intervened.” he paused, weighing his words. “And when I say 'intervened’, I mean with abilities not common to an average teenager.” The boys heads all swiveled to stare at Anita.

Mom arched an eyebrow, unperturbed. “Do you have any proof of this.”

“We do.”

Now, it was Mom’s eyes that were narrowing. “Exactly what sort of proof do you have?”

“Her fingerprints are on the crystal-kryptonite that hung around Superboy’s neck.” Batman said, his tone becoming firmer.

“Fascinating.” Mom butted in, “I do recall seeing that report on the news as it was happening, and I don’t recall seeing my daughter anywhere in that fight.”

“Her prints are on the crystal nonetheless.” Batman rebutted. “Which leaves her holding the crystal. That leads us to believe—”

“I’m largely uninterested in what you believe.” about as bland as Siri, Mom was starting the 'I don’t need this’ routine. “What do you want?”

“Simply put? We want access to your daughter.” This sentence caused the smaller boys to draw in even more tightly to Mom. Anita felt her eyes bug out as she stared down at the off-tope carpet that really needed to be shampooed. 

“Huh!” Mom’s laugh was... interesting. More like a donkey’s bray, really. “You’re hilarious.” She kept chuckling.

She gave Bryce and Jeremiah a single pat on the back. “Is your homework done?” the stared up at her blankly. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” she nodded towards the stars. “Go on then. You too, Trav.” The boys scurried away. “Anita.”

“Dinner?” Anita pleaded, like it was a prayer.

“Dinner.”

Anita raced back to the stove and turned the burners up onto high. Then she reminded herself that 'high’ was not her friend and turned the meat sauce back down appropriately to 7. She stared at the nob for a moment before twisting it down to 6, and then back between 6 and 7.

“Mrs. Moore, your daughter’s abilities are not something that can be ignored. We’re not suggesting this become a witch hunt, but the fact remains that we can provide her with the support she needs to better establish control over her own powers.”

Without being in the room, Anita knew that Mom had crossed her arms. Possibly nodding.

“I think you should get out of my house now.” Mom says.

“I understand.” Batman says. “If you change your mind, press the button on this communicator, and someone will contact you. Day or night.” Anita does not see what Batman is referring to or where he leaves it. “None of you have to do this alone.”

There is utter silence before finally the sound of the door closing. But the following silence does not necessarily ensure peace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Sharon Moore trudged upstairs to her office, robotically calling hello to her employees as she passed them. She needed to finalize next week’s schedule, double check the status of deliveries, and most importantly… not think about how all her contingency plans weren’t going to be much good against someone like Batman.

  She practically collapsed in her office chair, glaring blandly at the computer as she turned it on. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, or the lack thereof. She looked at the curtains, reminding herself that vitamin D was important.

  She took a deep breath, rising and plodding over to the window. She drew back the curtains and froze.

  ….she did not have the tools for this.

  “Hello, Ma’am.” Superman said, floating not far from the window.

  She closed the curtains and held them there.

  ….of the times that Sharon imagined a scenario in which a man would be conversing with her from a second story window, encounters with superhumans had never been on the billing. Of course, all those daydreams had been when she was much younger and had fanciful notions of romance.

  “I don’t mean to alarm you, Ma’am, but I can still see you.” He said from the other side of the notably flimsy barrier.

  No use in hiding.

  She tossed open the curtains and opened the window. “Exactly what are you doing here?” she demanded, through the screen.

  “I wanted to thank you…. You’ve raised a fine young lady.” His sincerity was palpable, and Sharon almost wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She wanted to be angry at him… but…

  He was Superman…. Damn pseudo-fascist iconography and the heartstrings it tugged at.

  She hung her head. “Would you… like to come inside?”

  It was a surprisingly easy process, letting Superman into the upper floor of the Bakery unseen. They did, after all, have a fire escape up there. It was still peculiar to see him sitting on the dark teal sofa in her office…

  “Would you like some coffee?” she asked, not at all certain what exactly she should be doing.

  “No, thank you.” Again, Sharon was really conflicted. He was being… so polite. “You seem at a loss.” Oh. Great. He noticed. Of course.

  She let out a little laugh. “I…” she eased into her office chair. “I don’t know why you’re here.” she said at last.

  “I told you, I wanted to thank you. Your daughter saved my boy…” he smiled, looking a little chagrin. “Also… Batman can be a little ...intimidating. If perhaps, you were in need of anything, I could see why you might hesitate to contact him.”

  “We’re fine.” Sharon said, wincing at how defensive she sounded.

  Superman leaned forward slightly. “There’s no shame in admitting it.”

  “Admitting what?”

  “That you have a child with unique needs.”

  “All children have unique needs.” She argued.

  “Your child is not like most children.” Superman reminded, as if she needed to remember it. “I’m not trying to trap you or make you feel guilty.” he assured. “Anita’s circumstances have been brought before the league.” his words made her tense up. She could barely handle Batman, and here was Superman talking about the league. “We’re all very impressed with your home.”

  Sharon blinked at him, feeling dazed and disconnected.

  “Your daughter…. her reality is far from normal. But that’s never stopped you from trying to give her that. You’ve given her a safe environment where who she is doesn’t suffer from what she is.” He smiled sympathetically. “It cannot have been easy.”

  Breathy little laughs huffed out of her, and she felt her defenses crumble entirely. “I have never had the tools for any of this.” this admission is not an easy one, but it’s always accompanied with a resilient truth. “That’s no excuse. Not when she needs me.”

  “Sharon.” his voice was so clear and certain. “You do not have to do this alone.”

  Sharon steeled herself, because she could not, would not cry...in front of Superman.

  She took a deep breath. “What…” she clenched her teeth. “I suppose I know why the league would be interested in her. What I don’t understand is what you’re so worried about.” Sharon squinted at him, studying his expression. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s done the best she could with what she’s had. What do you foresee happening that has you so eager to offer help?”

  “I honestly don’t understand why we wouldn’t offer help.” Superman countered. “It’s fairly obvious that Anita’s abilities aren’t something that she understands entirely. If we can help her understand that, we can help her find a safe place in her own society instead of trying to hide from it the way that she does now.”

  Sharon frowned, her eyes downcast. She… she had taught Anita to be cautious, yes… what if that caution just led to her daughter into being afraid of the world? She thought of Anita’s habits and tendencies. Had she taught Anita that she couldn’t live her life?

  Her eyes rounded as cold dread seeped into her gut. All of Anita’s tendencies were bent towards restraint, stiflingly so… Had she taught her daughter to be afraid of herself?

  “We… we don’t have a lot of options… do we?” she realizes, woodenly staring at her own hands.

  “Your choices aren’t as limited as you think.” Superman assured. “Either way, you’ll have support.”

  Sharon considers this quietly before clearing her throat and determining, “Well… I have a feeling, I’ll be having a more in-depth conversation with Anita soon.” she sighed, sitting back against the chair back. “She’ll want to hide away in what’s familiar, but…” Sharon shook her head, propping an elbow on the desk and placing her hand against her temple for support. “..I just don’t know if that will continue to work for her.” Superman nodded. “I just… I don’t know…” she wavered, not certain how to voice her thoughts. “I don’t know what options she has.” she said at last.

  Superman smiles. “Perhaps… I will have that cup of coffee.” he says. “And we can talk about possibilities.”

  Sharon laughs a little when she realizes that even she hasn’t had a cup of coffee yet. The morning had been so robotic, she’d simply forgotten. Coffee sounded like salvation right about now.

  Of all mornings, this was the one in which Sharon Moore had left her phone ‘Do not Disturb’ feature on…. no alerts came when Anita sent her texts.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anita is fast and very coordinated. After darting into the alleyway, she finds and alcove and presses herself against the corner, flattening herself against the stonework of the building. At the moment, she’s out of line of sight from the street.

  She almost laughs at herself, because all she can think is the ‘It can’t see me if I don’t move’ line.

  She holds her breath when she hears heavy footfalls...boots. The sound draws closer, slowly edging near her little corner, until it stops.

  “Hey.” the statement, question, greeting, whatever? It’s Superboy, because of course it is. He’s just… leaning back against the opposite side of the corner that she’s pressed against.

Fuck.

  “Hey.” she says back.

  “You alright?” he asks.

  She nods, swallowing thickly before retorting, “I’m hiding in an alleyway from Superboy, so… you know. I have been happier.” He lets out a little snort of a laugh, which somehow eases her. “You?”

  “Not that great either, actually.”

  She blinks, focusing on him and letting the noise around them fade.. his breathing is labored. She swings away from the wall, peeking around the corner at him. He looks… worn out? Fatigued or something, maybe.

  Her eyes widen and she vaults herself across the alleyway, nearly colliding with the business corner of a dumpster. “Shit.” she hisses. “My eyes are still green.”

  He blinks at her, tracking her movements before squinting at her eyes. “Are they not supposed to be?”

  She shook her head. “I have light brown eyes.” she muttered, still stepping backwards to put distance between them. “Unless…”

  His eyes rounded, his eyebrows hiking up in realization. “Unless you absorb something like kryptonite?”

  “Shit.” she seethes at no one in particular. Really just the situation. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  “Wait.” he says, making to follow her.

  “Are you mental?” She growls at him. “I’m literally radioactive right now.”

  “Yeah, but…” he shrugs. “It’s not as bad as it was.” he admits. It’s true… he can stand and walk and talk and breathe. So it’s not bad. He still nauseous and he’s beginning to get a pounding headache… but he can cope with it. “Why is that?”

  She opens her mouth and then freezes, her teeth clicking together when she snaps her jaw shut. She crosses her arms tightly, and mutters. “Go away.” before turning and jogging in the opposite direction.

  “Yeah, fat chance.” he grumbles, jogging after her. His step falters after the first few, but he persists, unwilling to lose sight of her now.

  She hears him and turns, hopping backward a bit. “What are you even doing ?”

  “I’m staying with you.”

  “You don’t make any sense!” she squeaked. “I’m a pox, and you’re going to chase after me??”

  “We heard about Luthor.” He says, and she stops. She stares at him, completely inert.

  “You heard about Luthor.” she repeats, her tone dull.

  “He’s dangerous.”

  “I didn’t need superpowers to know that.” she says in that same dull tone. “But why were you…” her eyes narrowed. “Are you watching me?”

  His head lulled to the side a bit, his eyes sharpening as his lips thinned. It was a great, ‘really? that’s what worries you?’ expression.

  “Of course we’re watching you.” he says in such a dismissive fashion that she feels a little foolish. Or she would if she wasn’t utterly terrified. “What did he say to you?”

  Anita stared at him as she tried to process the question. She felt so numb, it was hard to understand works and make them.

  “I..” she swallowed. “Some… bullshit about scholarships and…” her eyes drifted, though she certainly didn’t see anything.

  “What?” Superboy asked, taking another step closer.

  Anita put her hand out and backed up till she felt the brings of the wall behind her. Superboy, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and not wanting to be uncomfortable, backed up till he was standing against the opposite side of the alley. Distance did lessen the severity of the symptoms.

  “I think… I think he threatened me.” she said, processing the situation and the words he’d said. In retrospect, there was a thinly veiled threat in there. “He talked about my mother and brothers, and ...and said I’d want to keep them safe.”

  She suddenly felt like she couldn't get enough air, and the weight that had bothered her in her ankles felt too heavy.

  “Oh God…” she reached for her bracelet. Filtering the beads through her fingers, rolling them and then letting them fall before moving to the next set in line.

  “Breathe.” Superboy coached, and it was surprisingly comforting to have him here. “You’re safe.”

  “But they--”

  “They are safe too.” he interjects, in hopes that it quickly quells her panic. “We’re keeping tabs on your family.” He said this without really knowing if it was true. It was more a sense that Robin would probably have something like that in place. Her distraction allowed him to draw closer, her usual misgivings about their proximity a dull memory.

  “How..” Anita croaked before shaking her head. So many questions and she had no idea how to find answers...much less what she should do once she got those answers.

  “Anita.” He says her name, and she freezes. “That’s your name, right?” she nodded woodenly. He holds out a hand, as if for a handshake. “I’m Connor.” she winces back from him.

  “You shouldn’t…”

  “It’ll be ok. Trust me.”

  She eyes him and then his hand before timidly reaching forward to take it. She watches him, critically eyeing their point of contact before taking his reaction. Conner doesn’t feel that much worse, really. It’s just like standing next to her; a headache, upset stomach, there’s a faint sensation of cotton stuffed in his ears….sound seemed duller... but, it’s all manageable.

  “Nice to finally meet you.” he said, and she laughed nervously. He lets go, and though she doesn’t feel threatened, Anita still presses herself against the brick behind her. It’s less about him and more about the need to feel grounded. She had her breathing back under control, at least. “You were going home, right?”

  She swallows hard. “Yeah… It was that or the bakery, and...I really don’t want to be underfoot right now.”

  He nods. “Then here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to accompany you home, just to be safe. When you get there, you can call your mom, assuming someone from the team isn’t already doing that. I’ll keep watch outside your house.”

  “What??” she asked, trying to draw back, but he keeps his hold on her.

  “Just to be safe. Besides, if I’m outside and you’re inside, I probably won’t feel the effects of the kryptonite.”

  She takes a deep breath. “There’s really no point in trying to deny it, is there?” He doesn’t comment, aside from a wry smile. “You really don’t have to stay, though. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “I’ll touch base with the team before I move on.” he concludes. She nods, and starts walking. He falls into step beside her.

  “Are you...wearing your shirt inside-out?”

  He shrugs. “Believe it or not, it’s usually enough for most people to not notice me at all.”

  “...huh.” is her only response.

  They walked in silence for a few blocks before Superboy said. “So...this thing you do with rocks…”

  She huffed out a heavy breath, but otherwise there was no response.

  “uh...How’s that work?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know how it happens, just that it does happen.” her tone is dull but unresisting. Her voice is hushed, as if she’s afraid to be overheard. Superboy eyes her, wondering how forthcoming she’ll be if he keeps asking.

  “You just...what? Suck up things from them?”

  “I…” she sighs heavily, shaking her head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You’ll have to eventually, you know.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to right this second.” She grumbled. “Or that I have to tell you anything.”

  “You always this chipper?” Superboy asked.

  She smirked, and while there was plenty of derision in her posture...the expression wasn’t entirely a sarcastic. “Can’t be helped. I’m having such a good day.” she stops at a crosswalk, hunching her shoulders in a downward arc, her arms crossed over her belly as she damn near folded her torso in half.

  “Uh… you ok?” he said, wincing at the ineptitude of those words. Of course she wasn’t, and he feels like an ass for mentioning her struggle at all… but...how else can he figure out what’s going on, unless he asks?

  Her face settled in a pout before she grumbled. “Lead is a bitch.”

  He half snorted. “Tell me about it....but...I mean.. wait, what?”

  She groaned. “On the kryptonite necklace. There was lead.” she reminded. “Why lead, anyway? It’s not a decorative metal. It’s even poisonous to normal people.” she lurched forward when the walk sign lit up. “It kills my stomach.”

  “You feel the lead ...in your stomach?” he asked.

  She nodded. “It’s not even that it’s horribly painful...it’s just… jarring. It was worse yesterday, when the contact was fresh. Now, the crests are spaced pretty far apart.” she grumbles, then stops and turns to glare at him.

  He stares back, fighting the discomfort of those eyes. “What?”

  She huffed out a sigh. “You’re just…” her teeth clenched together. “...you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.” she muttered before she started walking again.

  “I...what?” his confusion at her statement was palpable.

  “I don’t talk about it. I never talk about it. Not with anyone except my mom.” she says, needlessly adjusting the right strap of her backpack. “I didn’t want to talk about it, and here I am talking about it.”

  “Well…” he wondered if he could reason her into opening up more. “I am one of the few people aware of the situation. It...could do you good.”

  “It doesn’t.” she bit out, looking away.

  “And maybe….maybe I feel a little guilty about it. I’m the biggest part of why you’re…” he jutted his chin in her direction.”Suffering?” he shrugged. “May as well tell me all about it.”

  She straightened her spine, rolling her shoulders back as she walked with her eyes forward. “Don’t be an idiot. Spreading the suffering around is no way to manage it. Besides, I’m responsible for my actions. No one else.” She shook her head. “Apart from that, talking about it is distracting.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ve keep asking myself one thing on loop… Why was I shaking Lex Luthor’s hand this morning?”

  He blinked, his eyes darting around them. Just the mention of Luthor made him feel twitchy. Like he was being watched down the barrel of a sniper’s scope.

  “Walking’s a good time to think.” Anita continued, her eyes sliding towards him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “The reason you feel guilty… it’s because I’m in pain after I helped you?”

  He blinked at her. “What are you getting at?”

  “There are three factors that connected to what happened yesterday. The asshole on the bridge with his death necklace, you and your group, and me in an imperfect disguise. I assume what’s left of the necklace is secure in your custody.”

  “It is.” he snapped, feeling strangely defensive.

  “Hm.” she grunted, looking forward again.

  “What are you fishing for?”

  “We can both assume that Luthor wasn’t angling to meet me for a scholarship, and it’s very suspicious that he’d approach me the day after that whole bridge thing.” she ground her molars, not sure how to continue. “Even if he doesn’t know about me, he knows something, and he wants something .”

  The question she wanted to be answered was… delicate. Or it could be. She assumed Superboy was here to help, but how far did this goodwill extend, exactly? Could he be provoked into changing his opinion entirely?

  “I guess what’s bothering me is… How Lex Luthor ties into all this? Assuming that he does… If it’s because of what happened yesterday, how is he connected to that? Could it be a coincidence?... That seems..” she shook her head again. “unlikely.”

  “Luthor owns most of Metropolis.”

  “Fantastic.” Anita spat. Again another wave of anxiety washed over her, her thoughts immediately centering on her mother and brothers.

  “It’s possible that he got something from traffic cameras, the way that Robin did….”

  Anita took a deep breath, gaining little comfort from the action. She still felt breathless, but she refused to submit to that panic. Now was not the time.

  “Batman did show up on my porch last night.”

  “That was a covert op, but… Luthor is resourceful.” he shrugged, feeling guilt creep up into his shoulder blades. “Guess he could’ve seen that.”

  “Do you think Luthor’s connected to the Mask-hole?”

  Superboy breathed out a tiny laugh. “Maybe. But… I don’t see how he’d know about you. We don’t even know much about you.”

  He watches from the corner of his eye as she chafes her own biceps as though she’s cold. “Yeah well.. me neither.”

  His eyes darted forward, away from her. To watch her right now...It felt… invasive. Like he was staring at her while she was having this vulnerable moment.

  “Now what?” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean.. I mean, how…” she shook her head. “I… I don’t know what to do.” she said, her tone distant, confused as she watched her steps as she was taking them.  “PVA26077.” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “It’s...an inside joke. Mom’s not overly worried about profanity now, but there was a time when it was on the list of things that’d get you in trouble.” she explained, sounding stronger than she had just a moment ago. It was nice to discuss something she had a decent grasp of. “Travis and I came up with a bunch of things to use instead of the standard cuss words.. that one’s one of the most colorful slurs.” She smirked. “Mom never got mad at those, because we used things like ‘Waterloo’ and ‘Witch Trials’... another way get Travis more interested in history.” she massaged her temples.

  “We don’t have contingencies for this.” she murmured. “Worst comes to worst, text plan zero to everyone, everyone comes home, we pack up and hit the road. No questions asked, let things run their course. Hire movers, sell the business, open shop in a new area…” she began to pant. “But… but Luthor’s reach is long. And even if he wasn’t a factor, the Justice League is involved now.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to run from us, alright?” Superboy reminded. “We actually want to help.”

  “To what end?” Anita cut in. “I don’t want to be a superhero. I just want to live my life in relative peace.”

  “Who says you can’t?” Superboy challenged, and she finally met his eyes. “We just want to make sure you’re safe.”

  SHe surveyed him for some time before she started walking again. “Something to consider.” she muttered, and it was really starting to irritate him.

  He knew there were a million thoughts cycling through her head, but she just wouldn’t say anything. She refused to say anything at all. Was it just how she processed things? Or was this a bigger issue.

  The two of them spoke very little during the time it took to reach the Moore house.

  “We’ll be around… you know…” Superboy shrugged.

  “If I should need you.” she said with a tiny smirk, and he had the distinct impression this was another inside joke.

  He nodded. “I’ll...check back with the team and… we’ll see you around.”

  She nodded, swallowing thickly before croaking. “Thank you.” She didn’t wait for a response before jogging inside.

  She didn’t see Superboy check his comm before jogging across the street. She didn’t see him leap away, because she didn’t look.

  Once inside she took a deep breath. The air in the house normally had a soothing quality to it. But something was off. Her head slowly rotated to the side, one ear cocked higher than the other.

  “...there are three heartbeats in this house.” she announced to the seemingly empty living room.

  The sound of footsteps from the kitchen made her eyes dart to that doorway. Her eyes widened as a well-dressed Lex Luthor stood there smiling at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't often that members of the team were called to present findings to the League directly. Today was such a day. Batman had insisted that Aqualad and Robin prepare the necessary files needed (photos, videos, transcripts) and convey their findings personally before the League made its decision.

Even so, Tim still couldn't quite get a grip. They were in the Watchtower...they were in space. Nightwing had said it would be nothing, but Tim still felt like it was the opposite of that. In fact, he suspected Dick had said that just to make him feel better. Sure he had gathered most of the data...ok, all of it, but he still felt so inept in front of all these heavy hitters.

"Aqualad." Batman had been speaking, and that singular word broke through Tim's growing panic.

"Thank you." Kaldur turned and nodded at Tim, who sprung into action. They had prepared for this, and now was no time to choke. Not now...not in front of friends and allies. "The more information we glean, the more we have come to understand how delicate this situation truly is."

Tim sent the files to each Leaguer's holo computer, then set about pulling them up in order on the big screen. Right now, everyone was looking at the video replays of what Batman had begun calling… 'the incident'. It played on the center big screen in all its glory.

"This is the incident on the Metro-Narrows." Aqualad supplied.

"Do we have any leads on this man in the masks?" Icon asked.

"Not yet. That is not the lead we have been tracking." It was about then that the girl popped up, kicking Masked-Virgil across the bridge.

"Who is this?" Wonder Woman asked.

"She is who we are here to talk about." Aqualad announced. Tim froze the video and then brought up the photos of the woman that they had managed to capture, dragging it to the left side of the screen. "This woman intervened during the incident and attempted to aid Superboy."

It was then that Tim let the video play out. She grabbed the kryptonite, she couldn't throw the kryptonite, the kryptonite wasn't kryptonite anymore. Superman showed up, Arrow showed up, and then she flew the hell out of there.

"How strange." Aquaman noted.

"What isn't immediately evident, is that her presence mimics the effects of the kryptonite. While she is near, Superboy is still paralyzed, and Superman reported feeling weakened upon approaching them."

"That's true." Superman allowed. Robin had captured a still from when her face had been exposed and she was floating near the bridge. He left that image in the corner before closing out the video.

Green Arrow took this time to speak up. "The arrow that I hit her with was an expanding foam arrow. Quick drying and buoyant, it should have swelled around her and held her in the water below. But Superboy said that she was floating in midair just beneath the bridge." He shrugged. "I don't mean to brag, but my arrows are efficient. For her to get it off of her and knock it into the water means that she has incredible reaction speed and strength."

"The crystal was all that was left behind, and that is what Robin used to find her." Aqualad said, half turning to Robin.

Robin tried to clear his throat as quietly as possible. "The crystal that was left behind was no longer kryptonite, merely clear crystal." He brought up a rotating image of the crystal. "However, I managed to find three viable fingerprints." the image on screen highlighted those prints, then brought up the image of Anita.

"They belong to Anita Lilian Moore, adopted daughter of Liam and Sharon Moore. Age: 14, Weight: 135 pounds, height: 5 ft., 5, Birthday: May 9—"

"You're saying that this girl is that woman." Black Canary asked, pointing between the two images.

Tim had done his homework, and he was not without showmanship. Both of the images had been on either side of the monitor, and they now began to float towards each other. Side by side, the contrast was pretty astounding.

"Thanks to a reconnaissance mission spearheaded by Batman, we now have confirmation on that." Robin reported.

"The listening devices?" Batman asked.

Robin nodded, but Aqualad stepped in. "That evening, the team managed to find the Moore household. Batman spoke with Mrs. Moore, offering help for her daughter, while members of the team planted listening devices at key places in the home."

Robin nodded again. "We have their conversation about the incident recorded. You have the entire transcripts in front of you, but I've highlighted key parts of the conversation."

With that, Robin hit play on the edited audio file.

"And that's when you pitched in?" the mother's voice sounded distinctly unimpressed.

"He was gonna die." young, and a touch desperate, that had to be the girl's voice.

"Baby. We have had this talk." the firmness of the mother's tone was somehow mitigated by the worry creeping in. Worry for her child, no doubt. "People die by the billions every day. That doesn't mean you have to risk yourself." that statement seemed so callous.

"Mom, it was Superboy." a pleading whisper, before her tone rose. "Superboy was going to die! Super. Boy. Superman's Boy. Might as well be Metropolis boy, Our boy, and there was no one else there!" she sounded so stricken, as though the thought of losing Superboy was personal to her.

"Anita, really!" The mother's explosive huff probably knocked the wind right out of her daughter. "Superboy is our boy?" the derision in her tone was palpable. "If you're willing to make decisions worth dying over, that's...that's not fine, I'm not happy about it, but it's your decision. Die for the people you love, die to make the world a better place, but don't die for some pseudo-fascist iconography! I'm sure that works really well for Superboy, but everyone else doesn't think of you as their girl, and they're not willing to save you. Clearly!" Long seconds passed as both women regrouped. Seconds in which all they could do was breathe. "So, what? You just jumped into the fray? Caution to the wind, and all that."

"I changed my shape!" The girl rebutted. "But.." you could her despair crawling into her tone. "I guess I just...forgot my—"

"Your fingerprints."

The sound of audio whizzing as Tim had sped to the parts of the conversation that were necessary.

"Hit the guy with the masks. Hard. I rarely take my jasper off, so." the girl says, but she pauses, lingering on some unseen communication. "The guy had put a glowing green rock on a lead chain around Superboy's neck…" There's a faint distant noise of shuffling. "It's what was killing him."

More audio whirring as the conversation that's unnecessary speeds by. "And here, she's talking about the kryptonite."

"I took it." her voice sounds loud in the quiet.

"...the ...lead?" The mother's voice is followed by shifting. "You know what lead does to you."

"Not the lead, Mom. I mean, I did tap the lead too. But...the kryptonite. I took it." Both women seem to hold their breath. "I took it all."

The silence hangs heavy before the mother speaks. "How...is that?" she sounds like she's gargled scotch recently. Many league members also shift forward, as if by pressing in they can get a closer look into the girl's experience.

"Uhhh." the girl gave one of those slightly off-kilter laughs that signals tears. "Horrific." she continues laughing breathlessly. "It's like… like I feel really weightless, or I could be if I want to, but there's this weird...shortness of breath. And I want to cry. Like, all the time. And I keep going between really just wanting to curl into a tight ball and sob and wanting to stare listlessly at the dirt, but I feel like I need to run or something's going to eat me." she takes in a shuddering breath. "It's like… like being clinically depressed, being aware of the depression, and trying to rationalize it and knowing you don't have time for this shit."

The sounds of more shifting. Some on the recording and some in the room.

"That explains why your eyes turned so green." the mother observed. "It's ok. They're still your eyes." There are squeaky kisses of the mother kissing her daughter's hands, and some of the Leaguers can't help but smile at that open affection. "What happened then?"

"Uh…" the girl swallowed audibly. "I'd uh… So, I'd punted the ass in the masks across the bridge, right? He was on the other side of the bridge. And Superman shows up…" she chuckled softly. "He just t-balled the guy with an enormous metal beam, and the guy flew all the way back across the bridge, back near us again." a beat of sobering silence. "But then, Superman flew towards us, and he… I was affected by it."

"By what?"

"The kryptonite. I mean, I'd taken it all but… but kryptonite's such a trip. Like, I couldn't-" she held back a little sob. "I was the thing that was killing them."

"Ok, first, you are not a thing."

"Not really the point, Mom." The girl reminded. She sighed. "Anyway, something hit me and knocked me off the bridge. And I was full-on hovering out there… like.. Kryptonite's really really intense and horrible, but evidently it gives you wings." the mother lets out a wheezy breath. The girl started chuckling softly again. "I remember thinking, 'I lost my camera, my scarf, and I lost my peace of mind all in one outing'." she laughed, shaking her head. "It shouldn't be funny."

The audio stopped. The rest was in the transcript...everything was in the transcript, but Tim felt as if the majority or what was necessary for the League was in this section of the recording.

"From this, we gather that Anita Moore can absorb different abilities through different minerals." Robin reports.

"She refers to jasper as a means of gaging how well equipped she is to hit Superboy's assailant." Aqualad recalls. "Her mother mentions what contact with lead does to her. And Anita mentions 'tapping' the lead and 'taking' the kryptonite."

"How did the home seem when you were there?" Black Canary asked.

"The home is adequate. Sharon Moore's ultimate concern is with her children's well being." Batman's voice is methodical. "During my discussion with her, she refused to allow any purchase or allowance on my part. Even calling the children her 'foster' children was corrected, territorially describing them as 'my children'." he flips through his own version of the transcript. "Even her discussion with them in passing makes it clear that her priority is their safety and nothing else."

"Because she is not their foster mother. She is their mother." Wonder Woman says with enough quiet conviction move a mountain.

"What else do we know about their living situation?" this came from Superman.

"Liam and Sharon Moore have owned a bakery in Metropolis for years. The couple adopted four children; Anita, Travis, Bryce, and Jeremiah. The husband, Liam Moore, passed away in an accident four years ago." Robin recited. "As for the girl, she's an exemplary student, rarely scoring below a 91. That being said, she is also a very...quiet student."

"How so?" Batman asked.

"In searching her academic records, I found several reports—all of which seem to be submitted for extracurricular science projects. Not surprising, most of those projects are based in or around geology. What is surprising is that most promising students receive some measure of support from teachers. There's a level of fanfare that goes with the academia. Something that assures the hard work is rewarded beyond the realm of general education. With the exception of one paper, Anita Moore is a ghost in the science community. She's...a ghost in her entire school. The only reason she was published at all is because her teacher sent one of her papers to the local college for a Young Minds event. It caused a stir, because she refused to attend any of the events that come with it."

"So her profile is unusually low."

"It goes beyond that." Robin continued. "Finding her online is nearly impossible. It took forever, but I managed to find a single e-mail address and an Instagram. They aren't linked to her name at all, and she works hard to upload photos and access that email through the onion."

"..the onion?"

"It's a web browser that makes it very difficult for anyone to track your activity online." Robin said. "This is a pretty extreme level of forethought when it comes to a cyber footprint."

"For a teenage girl?" Captain Atom began, before confirming exactly what Tim was eluding to. "That's downright paranoid."

"This is all well and good," Green Arrow said, rocking back in his seat. "but what can we do with all of this?"

Robin and Aqualad exchanged looks.

"Without quoting the mother directly," Batman began, "it was made apparent that any outside intervention would be…. unwelcome."

"Perhaps the girl would be more receptive to aid from those her own age." Black Canary suggests. Tim can already feel his head shaking.

"The team is more than capable of taking measures to ensure Anita Moore is well taken care of." Aqualad said, and Robin found himself nodding.

Batman slipped back into the bioship with Miss Martian, Bumblebee, and Robin. It wasn't the first or last time he envied Martian tech, with their semi-sentient vehicles with superior camouflage. 

"We managed to plant two listening devices." Robin reported. "Both are operational and online. One is in the kitchen, and the other is in the girl's room."

"I got a few pictures of the girl's room." Karen offered.

"Anything of note?" Batman asked.

"She's into collecting…." She reported, typing in rapid-fire on her holo-computer. The images she'd captured began to upload.

"Everything's in bags." M'gann notices.

And it's true to a certain extent. There are a few bits of art and fabric on the walls, a single bed, a desk, dresser and sundry. The 'collections' that Bumblebee mentioned, assorted music, books, tiny stone statues and such, are all localized around collapsed bags...ready and waiting to go. The books and CDs were all stacked vertically, smallest on top of largest inside of soft bags... The bags sizes varied, but the obvious purpose remained. 

"Picking up anything interesting over the listening devices?" Batman asks.

"The only thing I've picked up thus far is the mother promising to talk later, and the beginnings of a very tense meal." Tim reported.

"That gives us time to reconvene back at HQ." Batman decides. Robin sets about connecting the software to transcribe whatever the listening devices might overhear on their way back.

Anita knows she's stalling when she realizes she's drying a perfectly clean pot. Also, Mom's leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, and she has no idea how long that's been going on.

"I don't think we can put it off any longer." Mom says.

Anita nods at the bone dry pot in her hand.

"I take it you were not crying because you remembered our dearly departed Sirrah Bowie earlier today."

Anita shook her head.

"Come and sit down, dear." Mom said, sitting at her usual spot at the kitchen table.

Anita's shoulders wilted at the term 'dear'. She hated 'dear'. 'Dear' in mom-speak (at least in her Mom's mom-speak) meant 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed and-a-little-mad-ok'. Still, there wasn't much she could do about it...Anita sat down, half melting in the wooden chair.

"Tell me about your morning." Mom insisted.

Anita took a deep breath, scrubbing her face with both hands before leaning her elbows onto the table for support. "I decided to wake up early… Beat the morning commute and all."

"On a Sunday?" Mom didn't have to say 'you odd duck', because it was implied with her tone.

"I wanted to get some shots over the Metro-Narrows before it got really congested and while the light was decent. Mostly the water against the bridge's trusses. I was thinking of working them into a report that I'm going to be writing at the end of the semester about long term effects of salt water against different metals… Professor Llom really enjoys that level of showmanship." she let out a huffy little laugh, finding it funny how much things had changed in one simple day. "Metro-Narrows has that beautiful structure, it's trussed deck extends below the deck as well as in the arches above…." she shook her head. "Anyway. I was taking pictures. Distracted by that, mostly."

"Did you get into your 'zone'?" Mom asked, smiling the way people do at videos of kittens trying to jump and usually failing.

Anita hesitated, thinking about it. "No…" she murmured with a tiny shake of her head. "I mean, I got some shots, and I tried to focus on what I was doing, but there was this feeling I kept getting like.." she took a deep breath, not sure how to describe the sensation. "..like I wasn't entirely safe or something… or maybe like...like someone was watching me or something. That weird, low-grade tension that builds up before a jump-scare in horror movies, I guess."

"And that's when hell broke loose?"

"Uhhh, yeah." Anita squirmed in her chair, her spine undulating slightly as if she needed to work a kink out of it. "I thought….maybe one of those big tankers got in a wreck or something. It felt like there should've been some sort of explosion, but there wasn't any fire or anything. There was just this guy. This guy wearing masks." she rolled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it before continuing. "People started rushing everywhere at once. I darted behind one of the beams… I stayed there. I knew if I tried to run, I'd just trip or get shoved and...everything was just chaos."

"You pressed yourself against a beam?"

"Yeah. I ducked behind one and just let everyone run past me...used to beam for cover, I guess." she snorted. "I didn't realize how many commuters walk on that bridge till then."

"Then what happened?"

"Capes showed up. I didn't see where from, but they were there… and things got bad fast."

"And that's when you pitched in?"

Anita took a deep breath in and met Mom's eyes. "He was gonna die."

Mom closed her eyes, leaning her elbows on the table. "Baby." she said, trying to soften the next blow. "We have had this talk." She paused, waiting for a steady moment to round out the final statement in the argument between them. "People die by the billions every day. That doesn't mean you have to risk yourself."

Anita rolled her eyes. "Mom, it was Superboy. Superboy was going to die! Super. Boy. Superman's Boy. Might as well be Metropolis boy, Our boy, and there was no one else there!"

"Anita, really? Superboy is our boy?" Mom held up a hand. "If you're willing to make decisions worth dying over, that's...that's not fine, I'm not happy about it, but it's your decision. Die for the people you love, die to make the world a better place, but don't die for some pseudo-fascist iconography! I'm sure that works really well for Superboy, but everyone else doesn't think of you as their girl, and they're not willing to save you. Clearly!" Mom rolled her eyes heavenward, squeezed them shut to pray for strength and serenity because she didn't want or need to yell right now. "So, what? You just jumped into the fray? Caution to the wind, and all that."

"I changed my shape!" Anita argued before her expression went a touch watery. "But.. I guess I just...forgot my—" The rest was muffled as she groaned into both hands.

"Your fingerprints." Mom grumbled. She shook her head. "If I ever find the asshole that suggested a fingerprint day..."

"That was the year a bunch of kids went missing, Mom." Anita reminded, forking the fingers of both hands into her hair and pushing it back away from her face. She rested her chin on the table and left her hands on top of her head in a deflated-flan-in-a-cupboard sort of look.

Mom put both hands on the table, her shoulders arching just a touch as she took a deep breath and then relaxing as she let it go.

"So...you...stepped in. What happened, exactly?"

Anita sat up a bit, keeping her hands in her hair. It felt comforting for some reason, and she wasn't willing to let it go yet.

"Hit the guy with the masks. Hard. I rarely take my jasper off, so." she made 'you know' expression on her face, and Mom nodded. "The guy had put a glowing green rock on a lead chain around Superboy's neck…" Anita tapped her own collar bone as if to illustrate this scenario. "It's what was killing him."

"A glowing rock? What was it?"

"It was Kryptonite."

Mom's face wrinkled in a harsh squint. "Krypton… where Superman is from?"

"Yeah. Evidently, Kryptonite is really bad for Kryptonians. Something to do with the sun's radiation affecting the rock.… I'm not clear on that." she shook her head. "Lois Lane wrote an article about Superman when she interviewed him way back in the day, and another one about Krypton later on... it's not as enlightening as I'd hoped it would be." she sighed.

Mom was still squinting. "Why would you tell a reporter these things….?" she mused.

"There aren't a lot of scholarly articles about kryptonite out there, sadly." Anita shrugged. "Anyway, I was going to try and get rid of it, but I couldn't. I think that guy in the masks had some sort of holding ability, because he had Robin and that Lagoon Boy pinned too."

"Lagoon boy...that's the one that actually looks like the creature from the black lagoon, right?"

Anita paused. "I mean...yeah, but young and hot." Mom paused, tilting her head sideways and suppressing a smirk. "Don't give me that look."

"Young and hot, huh?"

"Sooo not the point right now." Anita reminded.

"Right, right." Mom sighed, but she occasionally slid suspicious eyes towards her daughter...the smirk totally ruined the effect. "The lead death necklace."

"I took it."

"...the ...lead?" Mom sat up straighter, leaning over the table, closer to Anita. "You know what lead does to you."

"Not the lead, Mom. I mean, I did tap the lead too. But...the kryptonite. I took it." Mom froze in place staring at her. "I took it all."

There was a heavy beat of silence as they surveyed each other.

"How...is that?"

"Uhhh." Anita half laughed, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling as she nodded rapidly. "Horrific." she continued laughing breathlessly. "It's like… like I feel really weightless, or I could be if I want to, but there's this weird...shortness of breath. And I want to cry. Like, all the time. And I keep going between really just wanting to curl into a tight ball and sob and wanting to stare listlessly at the dirt, but I feel like I need to run or something's going to eat me." she shook her head. "It's like… like being clinically depressed, being aware of the depression, and trying to rationalize it and knowing you don't have time for this shit."

Mom reached both hands across the table, taking Anita's in hers and keeping them in a gentle grip.

"That explains why your eyes turned so green." Mom observed, wondering how her daughter had managed to hide that from her for this long. Anita ducked her eyes, staring at their joined hands instead. "It's ok. They're still your eyes." Mom picked up their hands and kissed Anita's knuckles. "What happened then?"

"Uh…" she swallowed harshly. "I'd uh… So, I'd punted the ass in the masks across the bridge, right? He was on the other side of the bridge. And Superman shows up…" she chuckled softly. "He just t-balled the guy with an enormous metal beam, and the guy flew all the way back across the bridge, back near us again." her expression sobered significantly. "But then, he flew towards us, and he… I was affected by it."

"By what?"

"The kryptonite. I mean, I'd taken it all but… but kryptonite's such a trip. Like, I couldn't—" she shook her head. "I was the thing that was killing them."

"Ok, first, you are not a thing."

"Not really the point, Mom." Anita reminded. She sighed. "Anyway, something hit me and knocked me off the bridge." Mom's grip became tighter. "And I was full-on hovering out there… like.. Kryptonite's really really intense and horrible, but evidently, it gives you wings." Mom let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding, deflating like a cheap wal-mart balloon. Anita started chuckling softly again. "I remember thinking, 'I lost my camera, my scarf, and I lost my peace of mind all in one outing'." she laughed, shaking her head. "It shouldn't be funny."

"I think we've gotten into hysterical territory, hon." Mom said. "Come here." she rose and drew Anita into a hug. "You don't have to go to school tomorrow if you don't want to."

"I think I need to. I think I need something to focus on."

"We'll see in the morning." Mom decided. Maybe Anita did need things to think about, but it wasn't as if she couldn't occupy herself on her own. She would also need to sleep, and Sharon had no idea if she'd be able to manage that after such a trying day. "I'm sorry about your camera."

Anita drew away, shrugging. Thinking about it made her feel sick to her stomach...but it wasn't like there was anything she could do. "I mean… it's been four months since the last birthday, and I backed-up daily..." the words sounded hollow, even in her own ears.

"But you love taking pictures." Mom reminded, as if she needed to.

"Yeah.." Anita croaked before clearing her throat. "..but it is what it is." she said sullenly. "I can...just use my phone if I really want to take photos. I use it for everything else." She finally met Mom's eye. "What… what are we gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

"About.." she waved her hands in ambiguous circles. "All this."

"We can tell the boys whenever you're ready."

"I'm not talking about the smols, Mom. We had Batman on our doorstep tonight. Like…. Batman. It doesn't get much more serious than that."

Mom shifted her weight slightly, shrugging as she leaned her elbows on the table, stacking one forearm over another. "According to what you've said, I don't see where you've committed any crime. I can't imagine that we'd have to worry about superheroes." she took a deep breath. "You are a law abiding citizen, after all."

"Yeah, but… I mean, there's gotta be more to it than that." Anita reasoned. She sauntered back to the drying board and and started putting the dishes back where they went.

"Hm… He did say they wanted 'access' to you…" Mom leaned back against the doorway. "That's a vague term at best." she shrugged. "I guess we just do what we always do." she said with a smile. She let her hips slide forward in the seat, resting her shoulders back against the chair back in a collapsed slouch. "We play it cool, close to the vest. We've done nothing wrong, and no bills are due."

"I guess… just.. feels like... You know that term 'I have the sword of Damocles hanging over my head'?" she stalled, shaking her head. "I think that this feeling I have... that's what it is. Like there's some ambiguous penance ready to smite from on high."

"It'll be ok, sweetheart." Mom said, standing up and drawing Anita into another hug. "I don't know how, but it will."

"You don't know how?" Anita asked, drawing back to look at her mom's face.