The realization of what happened hit me like a freight train. In the first twenty minutes after I woke up in a hospital bed, the memories came flooding back, from the start of the bar fight to when I'd ran out of that place. But only four things shook me up the most.

Firstly, a superhuman with fire powers almost killed me.

Secondly, I didn’t know if Caster was safe or where he was. 

Thirdly, Desmond had just died, and I had no idea why he got targeted at the bar in the first place.

And fourth, the worst of all… 

I had just exposed my power. 

I did the one thing I never thought I would do, just because of some long-ago trauma I should have overcome by now.

I never reacted like that to fire. Never. Sure, I was scared and on the verge of having flashbacks, but I never acted out.

But because I lost control, I was sitting here in this dull blue hospital room, bandaged and bruised and horrified, watching the news on the TV in front of me. 

This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be a dream. But why couldn’t I wake up?

“The two young men,” said a reporter, the TV screen showing Scar and his masked friend, “had allegedly dragged the shooters out the building and made a chase after the 'firebender,' who investigators are currently calling M, escaped on his own.” 

The security footage showed exactly what was said — Scar and Bruise were slammed to the ground while M darted out through the broken window. 

“But it didn’t stop there. On the way out, people reported 22-year-old Caster Cessair — yes, one of the sons from the Cessair family — being held by a gunman outside. The young man was seen struggling, and as two citizens rushed over to help, the gun suddenly levitated and shot the gunman and the citizens.”

Every inch of my body started to shake, heart sinking into a dark pool of despair. 

In the footage, the gun was shown floating, glowing bright purple, the same color as Caster’s eyes whenever he used his telekinesis. The only difference was that this was a dark purple, and that only signaled one thing: he had another outburst. 

Again. 

At a time like this.

It couldn't be. I couldn't believe it. 

My throat constricted, breaths shallow, and I balled my sweaty palms into fists like I could just squeeze out all the tension in my body. But I couldn't. It stayed, only intensifying as the news went on.

“The masked one of the duo snatched Caster away, but so many questions remain. The scene is still being investigated, but from the fight in the bar to what happened outside, one popular theory circulated among the witnesses and investigators.

"It seems inane, but it's strongly suggested that superpowers or some form of magic was involved. A phenomenon akin to telekinesis had occurred with Caster, and the young lady, Talia Mako, was shown waterbending in the bar.”

They knew. Everyone knew now. There was no returning. No rewinding. No undoing the damage.

The pains of shame wracked my heart as I grit my teeth, because, really, what on earth was I thinking? How did I lose all my control in that one moment? Sure, Caster had exposed his power in a worse way, but at least his excuse was that he had an out-of-wack ability since he was born. 

All I did was let my fear get to me.

"You're an accident causing more accidents," said the voice in my mind — my father's. "That's what you are, nothing more —"

" — and nothing less," I murmured out loud, voice shaking. "You killed your mother the second you were born, and it's all been downhill after that, so what next? Will you go on to make the greatest mistake in history too?"

Dad told me that same speech before he died over and over, word by word, every single time I'd made a mistake, to the point where I knew it by heart, and each time it popped into my head, it stung. 

And now it stung even more, because the second part was true, right? I made the greatest mistake in history. I exposed my abilities, and the guilt could have never hurt more.

My mother dying while giving birth to me wasn't my fault, so Dad was wrong on that. But he was still right on the second part. He was right on something. And I couldn't bear to see that. 

So, I tried to swallow down the pain. Once. Twice. Three times. Four.

The lump in my throat remained. 

Of course it would. It would never go away.

With stinging eyes and blurry vision, I lifted my head back, taking deep breaths in. I couldn't think straight like this. Not with so many emotions swirling in my head. But at the same time, how could I push away the turmoil? There was no way to.

The door sliding open caught my attention, and a nurse peaked into the room.

“You have visitors,” the brown-haired man said, adjusting his white coat. “Family's here.”

Pure dread flooded through me in the form of an overwhelming wash of adrenaline. 

I didn’t even think about them. How could I not have thought about them? How could I never think about explaining this? Was I just so cocky and caught up in myself for my whole life that I didn't think there'd be a single scenario where I was dumb enough to expose my ability and explain it to people? Was that it? Was I just a goddamn idiot?

A few moments after the nurse left, an auburn-haired lady and her child came into the room. The woman was my adoptive mom, and the fourteen-year-old girl next to her was her daughter, Hazel. 

I swallowed. Here went nothing...

“I’m so sorry,” Mom said as she slid into the stool by my bed. “Even when I heard the news early, I got here so late!”

“It’s… it’s fine,” I muttered, my throat dry as sand. 

"Are you okay?" Hazel asked, clutching the corner of the blanket that was hanging off the mattress, her green eyes full of worry.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm perfectly okay. No serious injuries," I said.

Mom exhaled a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness. I heard you're going to be discharged…"

"Tomorrow," I finished. "I'm being discharged tomorrow."

"Good, good." Mom nodded and then went silent for a minute.

Oh, great. Silence was the last thing I needed right now; it only made things more tense.

"We should stop beating around the bush." Hazel shot a glance at Mom, then at me. "You probably know what we really wanna talk about."

I clenched my jaw, stomach twisting and flipping over and over. This was it.

"What was that waterbending thing you did back there?" Hazel asked. "Do you have an explanation for that? You have to have an explanation for that. Is it real? Did you actually do that?"

My heart dropped as I nervously gazed at Hazel's red hair instead of her eyes. “Um, well, it's true." I clenched my fists. "I did that. I'm… I'm able to bend water." 

“How long have you had this ability and never told us?” Mom asked with an unreadable tone.

“Since I was born,” I forced out, a heavy sense of unease settling in my chest. 

“Since you were born?” Hazel’s eyes widened, glimmering with excitement. “You’ve been able to waterbend for that long? That's… that's…"

"That's… what?" 

"That's cool. I mean, okay, I can understand why you're worried about it, but if you have the ability to bend water, you can make it into ice and gas and do all these amazing things with it. Did you think of that? You had to have thought of that!"

The grin on her face made me relax just the slightest bit. Of course I'd get a positive reaction from Hazel, given her happy-go-lucky attitude. But still, I wasn’t used to talking about my ability with a person who wasn’t Caster or my roommate Melissa, or someone who wasn’t another superhuman. 

This was still terrifying. This was still downright terrifying.

"Okay, I do agree with Hazel,” Mom quipped, “but I’m also worried, and although you probably can't see it on my face, I'm freaking the hell out on the inside. Are-are you some… variant of an Exelonian? They're the only other people with magic, so it's the first reason I can think of that would make you hide this You know Codex doesn’t allow people from the neighboring country, and I sure as hell don’t want you shackled in a dungeon—”

“W-what? No!” I raised my hands. “I am Codexian. People from Exelon can only have mind control or infiltration powers; we all know that. But superhumans, they’re completely different — we've got a whole range of completely different abilities; it varies from person to person. And besides, my scleras aren’t pitch-black like an Exelonian's anyways.” I pointed to the whites of my eyes. "If they were, you'd know right from the start, and I wouldn't even be here."

Mom slumped back in her seat and sighed deeply. "Okay, okay, good. That's a relief. I would be terrified if you were.”

I clenched my fists, chest tightening. “It really doesn't make a difference, though. I'm still in danger. You wanna know why I never told you guys? Why I never told anyone except for other superhumans? The government. Who knows what they'll do now that this is spilling all over the media?” My voice cracked and quivered as tears pricked my eyes. “This is a powerful secret, but a dangerous one. A very, very dangerous one. We could be dragged to experiment camps, tortured, imprisoned like Exelonian citizens — hell, the government may just kill us all on the spot.

“I’m not safe, you guys. I’m not safe. For now, nothing's happening, but later on, something's going to go south. There's just no doubt about it."

Blinking rapidly, I clutched the blanket in my palms as silence fell over Mom and Hazel. 

“Well,” Mom began,  “I can't argue with what you just said, because those are possible scenarios. But I'm gonna do my best to keep you as safe as possible. Okay? I’ll try everything. I promise.”

I gritted my teeth. Yeah, sure, just try everything in a country that doesn't let its people try anything at all. That totally made sense. 

Exhaling slowly, I regained composure before spilling my frustration. Mom was just trying to help while having no clue what to say. It's not like I could blame her.

So I simply nodded once. 

"Okay."