You’re not alone. The words rang in my head and all at once my body froze, processing. The step I’d taken forward into the apartment reversed itself, and I turned around, opened the door, and stared her right through the eyes. “What?”

                She raised her eyebrows, not expecting her blurt out would actually grab my attention. She lowered her head and mumbled. “Um… m-me too.”

                Me too, I repeated in my head. My mind shattered. She couldn’t possibly be saying… There was no way!

                Ever since I discovered my powers, I’d always wondered if there were other people out there with superpowers like mine. It seemed impossible that I’d just so happen to be the only one to discover the reality of magic in the world, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel like if magic had been real for a while, that we’d have more definitive proof. These doubts haunted me for a while, and without Lizzie to share my insecurities with, I wasn’t sure I’d manage. I’d have felt so alone.

                You’re not alone.

                “What do you mean!?” I said, a bit more frantically than I’d intended.

                She jumped and quickly looked toward both ends of the relatively empty hallway. Despite nobody in view, she shook her head and lowered her voice. “N-Not here, I… I can’t talk about it here.”

                “Why!? Seriously are you saying you’re—" I whispered before cutting myself off far too late. I failed to hide my blatant move to cover my mouth.

                Crap, did I just give myself away?

                I awkwardly cleared my throat and tried to think of anything to say to get her to explain without making me sound any more suspicious. “I mean, can you please uh… clarify what you meant when you said I wasn’t alone? I might have misheard…”

                She looked at me, a strange sense of panic eminent. She stuttered for a few seconds, working something out desperately in her head. “I… um… I can… do things. B-Because of… something that, um… happened. A-And I think that i-if we’re right about you, th-that you’d know what I mean.”

                I worked her statement over and over again in my head, trying to think of any other meaning behind her words. She could do things because something had happened. That could mean anything. Maybe she’d been forced to perform in place of a juggler and discovered she was a natural. But the string of points didn’t line up. How did her being able to do things have anything to do with me being alone? She was also comparing what happened to her to what happened to me, presumably referring to the accident at the Science Museum. Was she implying that she’d also gone into the cage and survived?

                Could lightning have really struck twice? Could it strike again? Was the Van De Graff Generator the secret invitation to the magical world this whole time?

                “So…” I said slowly, trying to be vague, heart pounding. “Does that mean you went to Boston too? And…”

                She was already shaking her head. “N-No, not like that. I can’t do… those things. Similar, b-but not that.”

                Similar things, but not that. All I’d said was going to Boston. I’d revealed nothing about what I could do, and she’d already responded as though she knew what I was talking about. My doubts were drifting away. We had to be on the same page. And now she was implying that she had something different? “Can…” I whispered, before making sure that no one could see us in the hallway, which was still empty. “Can you show me?”

                Her eyes widened, picking up on my tone change. She too double-checked the hallways, making sure no one saw us. However, she bit her lips and wasn’t giving any clear indication of showing me anything. I watched in anticipation, my heartbeat only getting more intense. She looked down, fumbled with her fingers, and… shook her head. “I… I don’t think I can.”

                My blood pressure began to spike. Had I said too much? Was she bluffing the whole time? “Huh?”

                She looked me in the eyes. “I… I mean, I just… I can’t screw this up, you know? Th-this is really important that I trust you and… well, I-I don’t know if I-I’m right…”

                My mind was racing to determine if she was talking about anything other than magic. At this point she had to be, but I was starting to fear that I was getting duped, that she might not have any herself, and was just baiting me into revealing my own abilities. If only she’d just outright told me instead of this whole vague angle she was going for…

                Then it clicked for me. For every reason that I had to protect myself and my powers, she probably had the same exact concern. She was forcing herself to be vague and use keywords that I’d only pick up on if I knew about magic. She couldn’t outright tell me magic exists, because if I didn’t already know, she’d be exposing herself willingly. Our concern of discovery was mutual. Yet another reason to believe we were on the same page. Of course, that assumed that I wasn’t getting into my own head and was actually interpreting her correctly.

                But if she was trying to protect magic’s existence, why even risk exposing herself by talking to me in the first place?

                When I didn’t respond, she reached into her jeans and pulled out a card. She handed it to me, her hand shaking a bit. “Call this number. There’s a g-group of us, and we have a place that’s safe to talk. I can sh-show you there.”

                I read the name on the card, which read “Moriah Bentley, Investigative Journalist, San Antonio Daily Newsletter” and it had a phone number. The word journalist immediately popped out at me. “Journalist? But you said--”

                “It’s not me,” she clarified quickly, a bit nervously. “It’s my adoptive mom’s. And she’s not doing any journalism for this, she’s just our… y’know…”

                I blinked. “Our?”

                She nodded. “There’s a couple of us. N-Not a lot but… well, just call the number. Sh-she’ll explain everything.”

                I stared down at the card, my skepticism only growing further. I was starting to feel like I’d walked into another trap.

                “M-Make sure no one overhears you when you call,” the girl said with a whisper.

                I nodded absentmindedly, trying to imagine what the phone call could possibly entail. “Um, ok…” I replied noncommittally.

                She nodded again, and without another word darted out of the hallway, as though embarrassed about the whole thing.

                I watched her leave swiftly, completely dumbfounded. She was a very shy girl, young, and completely paranoid about the whole situation. For someone who could be prying for information on me, she sure was an odd choice. Especially now that I knew there was an organization behind this.

                I looked down at the card in my hand, now getting drenched in sweat. It was my worst fear come to life since acquiring superpowers, that I’d be swept away into some crime-fighting organization. That I’d forcefully give up my dreams to save the world behind the scenes. This was exactly the kind of thing I’d always feared, and probably what Mom had been so scared of too.

                I read the name over again on the card. Moriah Bentley. The real boss behind the scenes. If I called her, I’d be walking right into her trap. She’d have my personal phone number, she already knew where I lived, and she’d probably know for a fact that I was some kind of supernatural just by contacting her. That alone made the wise choice obvious: Throw the business card right in the garbage.

                You’re not alone.

                What was that girl, if she really was one of me? If she had supernatural powers? She seemed to imply hers weren’t electrical, so what? I didn’t recognize her, so there was no way for me to do any research on her, if she’d suffered any near-death with a miraculous survival story. But I really wanted answers. Could these people be the answers I’ve been asking for?

                I’d walked back to my room and had my hand clutching the card held over the trash bin, ready to never look at it again. All that I needed to do was loosen my fingertips and the card would go falling. I sighed and placed the card next to my desk.

                I was never going to make a decision on my own. I needed someone to consult. Someone who knew about me and my powers. Pulling up my phone, I navigated to my favorite contacts and tapped on Lizzie’s name. Holding up the phone to my ear I sighed. “Hey, sweetie. You’ll never guess what just happened.”