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presence, so I whispered, “Fine. Be angry. See how long you can keep it up.”
    During lunch, Alia resumed her argument with Cindy, but no longer tried to enlist my help, for which I felt both grateful and a little betrayed. Alia didn’t help in the cleaning up after lunch either, quickly disappearing back into our room, but Cindy didn’t complain.
    “It’s not easy making a large hiding bubble here,” Cindy said to me after lunch. “There’re too many high-rises. Too much metal. I’ll need more time.”
    While Cindy continued working her power in the afternoon, I sat beside her and meditated, remembering Mr. Baker’s demand that I continue working on my power balance. I had no reason to believe that, after nearly a year of failure, I was about to get any better, but what else could I do?
    The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Alia continued to ignore me during and after dinner, which I couldn’t understand because as far as I could tell, her primary upset was with Cindy. Of course Alia felt betrayed because I had sided with Cindy in the morning, but I wasn’t the one demanding that she give up her stupid tattoo in the first place. What was Alia so upset with me for?
    Though Alia and I shared a room, we fortunately no longer shared bedtimes. Cindy tucked Alia into bed at around nine. Then Cindy and I meditated in the living room again.
    But for once, it was Cindy who was having trouble concentrating. Sitting next to her, I could tell that her focus wasn’t nearly as deep as usual, but still I jumped a bit when she suddenly said, “You know, Adrian, Alia wouldn’t care about her tattoo at all if you were getting yours removed as well.”
    Not again , I thought. “Cindy...”
    “I know I’m not your mother, Adrian, and I can’t force you to get rid of that horrible mark on your arm...”
    “Cindy,” I said as patiently as I could, “you’re as close to a mother as I have now, but I’d really appreciate it if you could just lay off the tattoo thing. I just don’t think you understand it.”
    “Well, that may be,” said Cindy, opening her eyes and looking at me, “but I understand one thing that you don’t.”
    “What’s that?” I asked.
    “This morning, Alia heard you saying how she isn’t your sister, and it really hurt her.”
    “Well, she’s not my sister, Cindy,” I said matter-of-factly.
    Cindy shook her head. “That’s not the point, Adrian.”
    “Well, let’s make it the point then!” I shot back. “Because maybe it has slipped your mind, Cindy, but I already have a sister, and she could be dead for all we know.”
    “I’m sorry about what happened to Catherine.”
    “Well, I’m sorry too,” I said crossly, “but sorry isn’t going anywhere, is it?”
    “You have to be patient.”
    “You think I don’t know that?!” I said, painfully aware that my voice was quivering. “I was shot for my impatience, Cindy! I lost four months for it. I know that’s my own damn fault, but I’ve learned patience!”
    “I see,” Cindy said quietly.
    I looked away, calming myself a little before saying, “I’m sorry Alia is hurt, Cindy. But she’s not my sister, and I can’t be her brother.” Hearing Cindy sigh, I turned toward her again and said, “Listen, I’ll do a lot of things for Alia. I’ll play with her. I’ll read to her. I’ll share my room with her. I’ll be her bodyguard if she ever needs one again. But that’s the best I can give right now. I’m sorry.”
    “Okay,” Cindy said heavily. “I understand.”
    Alia was still awake when I got back to our room, lying silently in her bed with the lights off. The nightlight was just bright enough for me to make out her eyes peering over the edge of her blanket. She had pulled her unicorn up into her bed again, but her eyes were on me, gazing up at my face in a wounded way.
    “I’m sorry, Alia,” I said quietly.
    Alia just shook her head. I wished I could say something more, but I didn’t know what. “I’m