“Dad!” Earth said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “It’s Skye.”
Aaron shut his mouth and stared at me, hard. He squinted, as if trying to place me, to determine if what his daughter said was true.
“What’s she doing here?” He nodded toward Raven, his voice so low it was practically a growl.
“Please.” Raven put a hand on her hip. “Nobody mask their disdain on my account.”
“She’s with me. Don’t worry, she’s cool. She’s not a . . . Guardian.”
“Can they stay for dinner?” Earth asked, looking up at her dad with big, brown eyes. “Please?” Aaron stared at us a little longer, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.
“I hope you like takeout,” he grumbled, opening the door.
Earth made a face at me as we walked inside.
“We always get takeout,” she whispered.
The four of us sat around a white metal table in the kitchen.
“Water?” Aaron said gruffly, holding out a glass pitcher.
I nodded politely. “Thank you.”
He took a bite of apple pie, chewing thoughtfully. He’d gotten two slices, and we’d cut them into four. Earth insisted.
“We don’t have guests a lot,” she said earnestly. Aaron glanced at her, almost amused. I could tell that this kid was a handful. I already liked her.
I studied her. If she was Aaron’s daughter, then she had traces of Rebel blood in her. And possibly some of the special Rogue powers her father had. She clearly knew about the Order and the Rebellion. Maybe even knew about her own heritage.
“Who was that out in the yard?” I asked. “He’s cute. I always wanted a dog, but Aunt Jo said if we got one I had to feed it and walk it, and I was always too busy skiing.”
“I get to walk him,” she said proudly. “That’s Milo. He’s our attack dog.”
“Scary,” Raven said, sounding like she meant the opposite.
“We got him to scare away the light-haireds.”
I glanced at Aaron. He was watching me.
“We saw you race once,” Earth said.
“Okay, Trouble, that’s enough sugar for you,” Aaron said brusquely, whisking her plate to the sink.
“He calls me Trouble,” Earth stage-whispered to me and Raven. “Because I talk a lot.”
“Not a lot,” Aaron corrected, sitting back down and mussing her hair. “Too much.”
“Right, too much. Dad says one day I’m going to say the wrong thing to the wrong person and get in BIG trouble. Do you know what that’s called?”
“No.” I smiled. “Tell me.”
“It’s called eating your shoe.” She crossed her arms and beamed, impressed with this knowledge.
“I think you might want to check again,” Raven said, and I elbowed her in the rib.
“Ow!”
“Raven knows all about eating your shoe,” I said to Earth.
“It’s not a good habit.” She shook her head, as if to confirm this fact.
“No,” I said. “It’s not.” I looked up at Aaron to find him watching me again. “Your attack dog,” I said. “The Order. They’re watching you.”
“Every damn day,” he said.
“They come to my school, too,” Earth piped up. “Every damn day.” Aaron glanced at her sideways. “I can see them out the window during class. And sometimes if you sit in the kitchen at night with the lights off, you can see their wings moving outside the window. Like pale butterflies.”
“When do you do that?” Aaron asked, surprised.
“When you get home late,” she said. “Don’t worry. Milo sits with me.”
Suddenly, all the windows in the kitchen slammed closed—on their own—and the curtains drew themselves in tightly. I flinched.
“Just in case,” Aaron said through gritted teeth. “They could be watching us right now.”
I wondered what kind of powers he had, as a Rogue. Some kind of control over wind or energy, to be able to pull off a trick like that?
I forced myself back to the conversation, and the little girl sitting next to me.
“Do you spend a lot of time alone?” I asked her. Earth nodded vigorously. “So do I,” I said. “You should come to River Springs sometime. Hang out with me.”
She perked up. “Dad used to live in River Springs! I saw pictures in his album. And then we visited to watch you ski. It’s so pretty.”
“When did you come watch me ski?” I asked. “I don’t remember—”
“Okay, Trouble. I think it’s bedtime, wouldn’t you say?”
“Do I have to?” Earth puffed out her bottom lip.
“Yes, you do, missy,” he said, giving her a nudge to get her moving. “Go brush those teeth while I talk to Skye and Raven.”
Earth got up. Suddenly, I felt a tiny pair of arms wrap around my waist, and looked down to find her hugging me good-bye.
“Hi there,” I said, and patted her head awkwardly.
“Will you come back and visit us again?” She looked up at me with big brown eyes.
I glanced at Aaron, who stiffened.
“Well, that’s up to your dad,” I said.
“I’ll talk to him later,” she whispered behind her hand.
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
“Bye, Raven!” she called over her shoulder on her way out the door.
“Hey! Don’t I get a hug?” Raven yelled after her. But the little girl was already gone.
“I bet you get a lot of sleep,” I said.
“You don’t even know the half of it.” Aaron paused, as if trying to figure out what to say next. “I’ve thought about this day.” He looked down at the water glass in his hand. “Seeing you all grown up. What I would say to you. The last time I saw you, you were her age.” He glanced at the stairs. “Earth!” he shouted. “Let’s hear that water running!”
“I’m going!” she called back. We heard a skitter of small feet climb the rest of the staircase.
Raven rolled her eyes. “I think somebody could use some help,” she said, and stood up. “I’ll let the two of you talk.”
We sat in silence, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator.
“Why don’t I remember?” I asked softly. “You, the cabin, the Uprising. If I was six when all this took place, how come I remember none of it?”
Something flickered in his eyes, but I could sense him beating the flicker back.
“Look,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you all this. Shouldn’t Josephine do it?”
“She’s told me things. She told me about you. What you meant to each other. What my parents were trying to do. But I know she hasn’t told me everything, and I don’t know if she will. Please,” I said to him. “There’s still so much about myself and my family that I don’t know.”
He took a thoughtful sip of water. “Your mom was very powerful, Skye. She could . . . see things. Visions of events that would happen. And she could do this thing . . . mess with your mind a little. One of her powers of the light.”
“She used mental manipulation?” I said quietly. “My mom?”
“She was pretty good at it,” he said. “Even on earth, even as a regular person. I guess the stronger you were as an angel, the longer those powers stay with you, a part of you. She lost her wings, but her powers never really left her.”
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying.
“She messed with my mind,” I said. “She made me forget.”
Aaron looked away. “I know that’s probably hard to hear,” he said. “Look, I’m really sorry. Maybe I’m not the best person to talk to about all this.”
“No,” I said sternly, looking up. “You’re the person I need to talk to.”