The rational side of Phoenix had already gotten over the shocking news. That was the side that believed there was nothing he could do about this, because even though he now knew he had two siblings, what else did he know? Nothing. He didn't know why his parents never told him, he didn't know what happened to Jack and Eleanor, he didn't know where they were, and he didn't know if he would ever find out. With all these unknowns, he should accept defeat and move on like nothing changed.

But the rational side of him was nothing compared to the overwhelming sadness he felt.

Instead of moving on, he was sitting on the floor and flipping through old family photo albums. He'd brought them along when he moved here, but they'd sat in the closet collecting dust. Now, he turned the pages carefully, not wanting to miss anything.

"Phoenix?"

He jumped out of his skin. Tara was standing in the kitchen, awkwardly rubbing her elbow. His eyes instinctively dropped to her feet to check for tracker boots, but she wasn't wearing any. Even if she was, it wouldn't matter—they weren't after him anymore. He was still getting used to that.

"How did you get in?" he asked when his heart rate dropped back to normal.

"Your window was open." She pointed at it. "I thought I'd come and see how you were doing."

He had a guess as to why. "Did Kate tell you?"

"Yeah. We're a tight group, news gets out." She paused. "I'm sorry if you didn't want anyone to know. I can leave if you want."

"No, it's alright. I don't mind."

Tara was silent for a moment. Then she asked, "Are you looking for them?"

Phoenix nodded. He was searching for any sign of Jack and Eleanor, but there was nothing. Not even a single photo that seemed like it could be them. He wasn't expecting to find much, but it was still disheartening to know that no trace of them existed aside from those birth certificates.

"Can I look?" she asked, sitting on the couch and reaching for an album.

He nodded again, and she flipped through a few pages before turning it over to show him.

"Is this your sister?" she asked, tapping a photo. It was of a cherry blossom tree, and in front of it stood a girl with brown hair dyed hot pink at the ends and a wide grin that was borderline demonic.

He smiled. "That's her."

"Did she have powers, too?"

"No," he replied. Their powers weren't hereditary. It was a rare coincidence that both he and their mom were superhumans; Alexa and their dad were normal.

When Tara was done looking, she closed the album and gently brushed the dust off the cover. She was acting the same way Kate had at the early morning meeting: delicate, careful, and stalling with silence.

"Do you think they're dead?" she asked finally.

The question was cautious, and it didn't need to be. He was ready with an answer. "Yeah," he said calmly. "I mean, I don't know for sure, but...I don't think they made it past infancy. There's no other explanation as to why I never met them, and why my parents never mentioned them. Maybe it was just too painful."

Tara mumbled something under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked.

She hesitated, but ultimately she leaned forward and whispered, "They don't have to be dead."

He leaned forward, too. "Why are we whispering?"

She laughed a little. "Serious moments mean serious tones."

"Tara," he said at normal volume, "as life-changing as it would be if they were alive, I don't think it's possible."

"You can move things with your mind. I can fly. There are superheroes and supervillains and superpowers. I think it's possible that they're not dead."

Phoenix shook his head. He appreciated the optimism, but he didn't agree. "And so what if they aren't?" he asked. "I don't know where they are."

"I know, I know. I'm not saying anything definitive." She shrugged. "I'm only saying that anything's possible, and who knows. Someday, you might find out what happened."

Phoenix looked down, surprised to see that he had closed the album he'd been looking through without noticing. And...he didn't want to open it again. He looked at Tara; what she said helped him somehow, though he wasn't sure exactly what part of his opinion had changed, if it did at all. Maybe he'd been having too hard of a time processing it on his own, and all he'd needed was someone to talk to.

Tara grabbed the notepad on the table and scribbled on it. "That's my number," she said. "In case you ever want to talk, or if you need help. I'll be there."

She headed for the window, but he quickly stood up. "Wait."

She turned around, one foot already on the windowsill. "What?"

Phoenix glanced at the notepad. He'd assumed that aside from database fixes with Kate or Hazel, he would never see any of the exchange team again. But Tara had come, for no reason than to check up on him. It was the first time in a long time that he didn't feel alone in his grief.

"Thank you," he said, hoping she could tell how much he meant it.

She smiled. "Anytime."

......................

"You're slow today."

Jack tried to focus on Azure, who was glaring at him for not paying attention. They were in their headquarters: an abandoned building by the Hunts Point region of the East River that they sometimes met in. Under their feet was a training mat, and they were practicing fighting like they often did, but Jack was distracted. He was wondering where Elle was; she'd barely said a word since leaving Arizona. He trusted her and knew she was taking time to sort out her feelings, but he was dying to know if she was okay. She'd always felt closer to Tilde than he had.

"I'm not slow," Jack lied. "I'm perfectly focused."

Azure narrowed his eyes, lowering his fists. Then he abruptly palm-smacked Jack in the nose.

Great, Jack thought, backing away and holding his throbbing nose. The hit wasn't hard enough to draw blood or even leave a bruise, but that wasn't the intention. He should've seen the swing coming, and he should've ducked. He just proved he was preoccupied.

Azure shook his head and took a seat on the bench. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Of course." Jack knew Azure was watching him closely, and trying to divert his attention away from whatever nervous habits he was picking up on, he asked, "Did you get the materials?"

Azure's eyes narrowed again, and Jack knew he couldn't evade him forever. "Yeah," Azure said. "Black has the briefcase."

"I still don't understand what it's for," Amara said.

She was sitting on the ground, legs drawn up to her chest, chin resting on her knees. Jack was shocked that she'd said anything. She didn't speak much, and when she did, it was always strange and sarcastic, like she was a spectator commenting on something she didn't consider herself to be involved with.

"It's not important," Azure said dismissively.

Amara rolled her eyes, but her expression was neutral. There wasn't even a hint of curiosity for what she'd just asked about.

A mouse suddenly scurried out from under the bench and went running across the training mat. Amara held out her arm, glowing from elbow to fist with tendrils of bright, yellowish-orange light. Before anyone could stop her, a blast of energy hit the mouse. It died on the spot, smoke curling up from its body, and Amara lowered her arm like nothing happened.

She glanced at Azure, and he met her empty gaze with an equally empty but somehow judgemental one, and then they turned away from each other.

Jack sat next to Azure on the bench, unsure how to respond. Amara didn't use her power often, and for her to use it on an innocent mouse, of all things, was unsettling. He considered her a friend, but he'd be lying to himself if he claimed to understand her.

Azure suddenly turned to him. "You're not off the hook."

Jack closed his eyes. Azure was going to find out—he always found out. He didn't have a superpower, but Jack wouldn't be surprised if he was hiding some mind-reading or soul-searching ability.

Jack opened his eyes with a sigh. "Tilde's dead."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. She asked us to visit and then committed arson. There's a note, but Elle has it, and I don't know what she's done with it."

Azure shook his head slowly, looking at the broken window across the room. There was nothing to see there, but he watched its shattered view as he spoke. "It's strange, isn't it? A former supervillain decides to settle down and adopt children, who happen to be superhumans themselves, and she encourages them to become villains, too, and then she offs herself." He raised an eyebrow. "Weird."

"I know." Jack clasped his hands together tightly. "But Tilde never wanted to explain, and at this point, I don't think I even want to know. Does it matter now that she's dead?"

A loud bang reverberated through the building—the sound of the massive door closing. Elle walked into the room, calm and collected. She stopped in front of the bench and looked directly at Jack.

"Did you read it?" he asked.

She shook her head and held up the note, still folded in the exact way she'd found it. "Do you care, at all, what happens to this?"

"Not one bit," he said honestly.

There was relief on her face that she tried to hide, but he saw it. In a surprise move, Elle turned to Azure and held the note out to him.

Azure blinked. "What are you doing?"

"I want you to take it," she said. "I don't want to read it, but I can't bring myself to throw it away, so I'm giving it to you. Do whatever you want. Keep it, read it, throw it out. It's not my problem anymore."

Azure plucked it out of her hand and said nothing. Jack couldn't tell what he would do with it, but that was Elle's point. The note's fate was in their friend's hand, and whatever happened to it was off their shoulders and could no longer be their fault.

Elle smiled gratefully. Then she sniffed the air, her nose scrunching up, and looked at the mat. "What happened to that mouse?"