Logan's unpacking groceries when I nonchalantly hoist myself onto the counter, pick up a jar of peanut butter, and examine the label as if everything is perfectly normal. He hears me and starts talking about his busy day, but I'm hardly listening. I've got one thing on my mind.

"Hey, Moll from the lab might be going to Hawaii, and she's looking for a rustic place near some good surfing. I'm talking far away from tourists and all of that. Thought you might have some ideas." Then I shrug and continue reading percentages of fat and salt like I don't care too much about his answer when in fact I really do. I bite my lip. Will he remember?

"Um, Cass, you know I didn't set foot on the beach when I was there. It was a business trip, after all."

"Well, yeah, but Mike is crazy about it so I just thought—"

"That he would take his whole team on some great surfing adventure?"

"Not exactly. Just checking all bases." I keep my voice distracted, but inside, I'm in full panic. I'd tried to transmit a memory – an easy one about a guy taking off from his business trip for a day and staying at a guest house near a remote surfing beach. If all was working properly, Logan would have absorbed that memory and that guy would have been him. At least in his mind. My powers had worked before on Logan. In fact, transmitting a memory to him had always been easy. So this time, for me, it represented the perfect test. And I'd failed.

I draw in a sharp breath. If I can't transmit a simple and rather basic memory to Logan, how can I possibly copy and transmit something much more difficult to a stranger?

The jar of peanut butter falls out of my hand, drops, and rolls. Logan turns around in a flash and smiles.

"Good thing it's plastic."

"Yeah, sorry..."

He picks up the jar in one swoop, then turns a serious eye to me.

"Are you OK, Cass? I mean, you seem kind of off... If it's all about this memory catcher stuff, look, I understand, but you have to take a step back."

I slip off the counter and turn away so he can't see into my eyes.

"I know, I know," I mutter. "You're right." But he isn't right. A step forward is the only step to take, whether I want to or not. Logan doesn't understand that, and I don't see the point of explaining.

"Cass, about Hawaii..."

Did he guess I'd used him as a test? My heart skips a beat. Yeah, Logan is an easy test for this kind of thing, and I'd transmitted memories to him more times than I could count. But the thing is, he doesn't realize he's been my own personal guinea pig all of these years, and I don't want him to find out right here and now.

Before I can panic more, he continues: "I didn't sneak out, but the weird thing is, Mike did – to exactly the kind of place you describe."

I shrug. "Well, the boss is the boss. He can sneak out." Then I mumble some excuse about having to run back to the lab to pick something up and hurry out the door. My words to Logan didn't reflect what's going on in my head. My transmission was off kilter. Instead of Logan capturing the memory directly, he saw it as something his boss had done. Maybe some people would say that was better than if I'd completely failed to transmit the memory, but if you ask me, it's as bad as complete failure. Maybe worse. It means what I'm doing is erratic and unpredictable. And in my business that is worse than having no power at all.