Secrets are heavy.
Cassie carried hers everywhere.
In the way she controlled her breathing when she got angry.
In how she avoided metal railings.
In the careful distance she kept from anything that hummed with electricity.
Most days, she managed it.
Most days… nothing slipped.
But Baker Rehanile was becoming a problem.
---
Cassie pushed open the front door and stepped into the quiet safety of her home.
"Mom?" she called.
Andrea appeared almost instantly, reading her daughter the way only a mother could.
"What happened?"
Cassie dropped her backpack.
"There's this girl at school — Baker. She just keeps pushing me. Today she wouldn't stop, and I felt it building again. It was like holding a scream inside my bones."
Andrea's expression sharpened.
"Did you release anything?"
"No!" Cassie said quickly. "I walked away before it could happen."
Andrea relaxed slightly, though concern still shadowed her face.
"Walking away is strength, Cassie. Never forget that."
Cassie hesitated before continuing.
"Marisa invited me over tomorrow… just for a few hours."
Andrea's answer was immediate.
"No."
Cassie groaned softly. "Mom…"
"It's not punishment. It's protection."
"But nothing ever happens when I'm with her! I'm careful."
Andrea folded her arms, struggling between fear and the realization that her daughter was growing — needing pieces of a normal life.
"What if something triggers you?" she asked quietly.
"I won't let it," Cassie insisted. "Please. I just want to feel like a regular kid for once."
The kitchen fell silent.
Andrea studied her — this child born in secrecy, raised in hiding, yet still hopeful enough to ask for something as simple as time with a friend.
After a long pause, Andrea sighed.
"Two hours," she said at last.
Cassie blinked. "Wait… really?"
"Daytime only. You call me if you feel even the smallest surge. And if I say it's time to come home, you don't argue."
Cassie rushed forward and hugged her.
"Thank you!"
Andrea held her tightly, whispering more to herself than to Cassie—
"We can't hide you from the world forever…"
---
The next day at school felt wrong from the start.
Baker's attention was relentless — small comments, quiet laughs, shoulder bumps in the hallway.
Nothing loud enough for teachers.
Nothing obvious enough to report.
But enough.
Always enough.
By lunchtime, Cassie's patience was thinning.
"Why does she even care about me?" Cassie muttered as she shut her locker.
"Because some people are powered entirely by annoyance," Marisa replied.
Cassie almost smiled.
Then Baker appeared.
"Well, if it isn't the human thundercloud."
"Go away, Baker," Marisa snapped.
Baker leaned closer to Cassie.
"You ever notice how the lights flicker when you get all moody? It's like the building is scared of you."
Cassie felt it instantly—
That dangerous warmth beneath her skin.
Not now.
Not here.
She turned and walked fast down the hallway.
"Cassie!" Marisa called, hurrying after her.
Cassie pushed into the girls' restroom and locked herself inside.
The moment the door shut—
The overhead lights flickered violently.
She grabbed the edges of the sink.
"Stop… stop…" she whispered to herself.
But emotions were already spilling over.
The air buzzed faintly.
A stall door creaked open without being touched.
Then Marisa slipped inside.
"Cassie? Are you—"
The lights went out.
Total darkness.
Marisa gasped.
Before panic could rise further, the emergency light glowed dim red… revealing Cassie standing at the sinks.
Electric threads crawled across her fingers.
Not wild.
Not explosive.
But undeniably there.
Marisa froze.
For one long second, fear crossed her face.
"What… is that?" she whispered.
Cassie shut her eyes.
"I didn't want you to see."
The hand dryer jerked on for half a second — then died.
No one else came running.
No alarms sounded.
The restroom, tucked at the quiet end of the hallway, kept their secret.
Marisa's voice trembled.
"Are… are you doing this?"
Cassie nodded slowly.
"I was born like this."
A metal faucet rattled softly.
Marisa flinched — then caught herself.
"You're not hurting me," she said, almost testing the idea aloud.
"I would never hurt you!" Cassie said quickly, her voice breaking. "That's why I hide it. That's why I walk away when I get upset."
Silence stretched between them.
Cassie forced the energy down, breathing exactly the way her mother had taught her.
In for four.
Hold.
Out for four.
The sparks faded.
The lights steadied.
The room became ordinary again.
Marisa stared at her.
"You've been carrying this… alone?"
Cassie looked down. "My parents say people wouldn't understand."
Marisa stepped closer — slowly, but without fear now.
"You're still Cassie," she said firmly. "My Cassie."
Emotion tightened Cassie's throat.
"You're… not scared?"
"I was," Marisa admitted. "For like three seconds. Then I remembered you cry during sad animal movies."
Cassie let out a shaky laugh.
Marisa lowered her voice.
"Does anyone else know?"
"No. Just my parents."
"Good," Marisa said immediately. "Because we are keeping it that way."
Cassie blinked. "We?"
Marisa folded her arms with sudden determination.
"If the world finds out, they'll treat you like some kind of experiment. And I am absolutely not letting that happen."
Cassie stared at her best friend — amazed.
"You believe me that easily?"
Marisa shrugged.
"You just turned off the lights without touching them. This isn't exactly a 'maybe' situation."
A small smile tugged at Cassie's lips.
Then Marisa added softly—
"You don't have to hide from me anymore."
For the first time in her life…
Cassie felt the weight of her secret lift slightly.
Not gone.
But shared.
And somehow, that made her feel stronger.
Outside, the school day carried on — loud, ordinary, unaware.
Inside the quiet restroom, a promise settled between two ten-year-olds.
Unspoken.
Unbreakable.
From that moment forward…
Cassie was no longer alone.