Ayda had a decision to make. Faced with the extreme, oversized, and materialistic nature of American consumerism, as a foreigner she had two choices. She could either spend the next however long being constantly surprised by every new thing she saw, or simply ignore and accept them as the standard for first-world living. She chose the latter option, if only for sanity's sake.

However, walking through the most massive shopping center she'd ever seen, each new step tested her determination. Everything about it exceeded her expectations, which was both good and bad. Jacqueline had told her about places like these, about all the different stores, but Ayda could never have imagined the scale of it all. Every few feet was a new outlet, or kiosk, or shiny new car for sale, which caused Ayda to wonder how it even got in the building at all. Being at an odd hour—after lunch but before most folks got out of work—the concentration of people was not quite as dense as she'd predicted. It wasn't quite on par with the airport, but still more individuals than she was used to dealing with.

Ayda couldn't help but look around, mesmerized despite her best efforts to remain mostly calm. She derived great enjoyment from peering into each storefront and trying to guess what sort of goods it specialized in. There were several clothing stores, little curio venders, a few different technology emporiums, an arcade full of things called video games, and even a hole-in-the-wall selling old style weapons. She honestly would have been content to spend the rest of the day in there, but sword shopping wasn't the point of the journey. No, Jacqueline had bigger plans for her.

The blonde strode cheerfully at her right shoulder, with Emma supervising a step behind. Of course, Jacqueline had a specific goal in mind, but she allowed Ayda the time to look around, to take in her new surroundings. Frankly, Ayda found it a bit awkward, as if she was leading the pack yet had no idea where to go. She spoke to hopefully alleviate any discomfort.

"What is this place called again?" This was perfect, because it filled the air and also asked a genuine question.

"It's a shopping mall," answered Jacqueline, "a place where a whole bunch of stores are all connected together."

"Yeah but, why?" Ayda continued. "What's the point?"

"For convenience sake, so you don't have to go all over the city to get the things you need," explained Emma. Ayda pondered this for a moment, tilting her head pensively.

"So, it's kinda like a farmer's market, then?" She concluded.

"Exactly," confirmed Emma, "except with more generalized merchandise."

"And all indoors," Jackie added.

They traveled for a moment longer in silence while Ayda contemplated all she'd just learned. It really made a lot of sense to her. People in big cities were busy. She'd already been privy to just how long it took to get anywhere in such a massive, crowded space, even by car. Stopping at several different locations to pick up a variety of things could easily take an entire day. City folk simply didn't have the time for nonsense like that. Shopping malls, while undoubtedly vapid, were necessary.

"I guess I just don't understand how you can fit so much stuff in one place. It's like... like everything I could ever want is right here, right in front of me." mused Ayda.

"It is impressive, when you think about it," agreed Emma.

Jacqueline, sensing another awkward pause coming on, took matters into her own hands, quite literally. She grabbed Ayda's wrist and began to drag her ahead.

"Come on, the store I want to take you to is up here. I think you'll love it!"

"Don't pull me." Ayda yanked her hand away. Jackie paused mid-step to give her a wide-eyed expression.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," apologized the blonde.

Ayda sighed. "Let's just go." They resumed their walk. Jackie traveled a step ahead of Ayda, and kept her hands to herself.

The store in question was by far the largest clothing outlet in the mall, and perhaps the biggest store in the building period. It actually had an escalator of its own. Ayda had never seen so many different garments in one concentrated spot. They were arranged by size and style, with the smallest pieces toward the front of the store. Although it was clearly themed toward teenage and young adult women, Ayda refused to believe some of the articles could cover a grown person without their midriff hanging out.

The store smelled just slightly of a sweet perfume. The white and metal color palette was pure and clean, inviting to the eye and yet distinguished. The people within carried a certain pompous air about them, as if shopping there required some sort of entry criteria. Indeed, the fabrics seemed finely distinguished in their craftsmanship. That, paired with the lavish handbags and gold jewelry on display, denoted this as a high-end establishment. As a lower middle-class foreign girl, Ayda felt a bit out of place.

To say Ayda hadn't the first idea where to begin would have been putting it mildly. How could she pick her own outfits if she didn't even know her size? Everything differed so greatly from what she was used to. None of the options presented seemed particularly appealing, but perhaps that was due to a lack of understanding. Seeing everything suspended on hangers or folded on tables gave little indication of how they would go together, and much less their potential appearance on her.

Thankfully, the eagle-eyed Jacqueline was on the case. She'd arrived with a plan, after all. Doubtless, the blonde had already decided round about what she would cobble together for Ayda long before they arrived. She led both her sister and mother up and down a few select aisles, but never up to the second story. Shame, Ayda kind of wanted to ride the escalator.

Jacqueline's incessant determination to dress Ayda up in nothing but the latest trend was what found the latter girl standing in a cramped fitting room, holding up a pink shirt with a look both skeptical and mortified.

"Are you serious?" She called out the cubical to her companions waiting outside.

"Come on, just try it," encouraged Jackie. "It'll be adorable."

"If you say so," Ayda conceded with a sigh. She refused to believe such frivolous garments could be in any way adorable, but was willing to at least try if it placated Jackie. What could possibly go wrong?

Ayda emerged from the fitting room, all dressed up in the outfit Jackie had chosen. Her stride was awkwardly pigeonholed by the heels she wore. The aforementioned pink top was lightly ruffled around the modestly swooping neckline. The semigloss fabric caught the light in muted reflections. Ayda nervously picked at the hem on her flowy pleated skirt in a desperate attempt to drag it down just a few centimeters to cover her knees.

"You look fabulous!" Commended Jacqueline. "What do you think?"

"I feel so exposed!" Ayda said quickly. "I knew I shouldn't have let you pick."

"You don't like it?" Jackie's entire body sagged in defeat. Ayda gave her a pained expression.

"Honestly, no. I'm sorry, but I don't think it's really my thing." Not that Ayda knew what her thing was in the first place. "Um, I like the shoes, though," she added quickly. "I could probably do some real damage with this spike thing." She lifted one foot off the ground for emphasis.

"Those are high heels. They're for fashion, not fighting." Jackie couldn't hide a hint indignation from her voice.

"Why don't we look for something else?" Interjected Emma. "Maybe you'd like something simpler, like some nice jeans?"

"Sure, give it a shot." Ayda swiftly agreed. Anything to get out of these ridiculous togs. She disappeared into the fitting room to again adorn her floral pattern dress. If nothing else, she only had to put up with this for a bit longer.

The trio delved into the depths of consumerism, once more in search of garments, but this time for something more appropriate. Emma provided more input this go around, although Jacqueline still did most of the picking. Ayda kept her mouth shut about that. These people were her best shot at a semi-normal life, espeically after everything she'd been through. She had to at least try and get along, for her sake if for no one else.

They came across an outfit much quicker this time. Either Jackie had a backup plan, or sensible ensembles were easier to build. Ayda had more faith in the latter.

When again she emerged from the fitting room, everything about her simply exuded confidence. Her steps were even and comfortable, expression contented, and posture relaxed, all in sharp contrast to just a few minutes ago.

Her outfit started with another sleeveless pink blouse, but this time simpler in design and less revealing. The only big of skin it showed (other than the arms, obviously) was through a short, narrow V cut in the neckline. Dark blue jeans clung to her lower body. Comfortable black and white sneakers adorned her feet.

"This is so much better," Ayda smiled. "Had a hard time getting the pants on, though. Are you sure they're my size?"

"They might be a bit small, but that kind of cut is supposed to be tight," explained Jackie.

"Are American pants always so clingy?"

"Sometimes. It depends on your mood. That's what's so great about fashion, it's an expression of yourself." Jacqueline said. Ayda narrowed her eyes just slightly. She didn't really understand how clothing could be an expression of anything other than keeping warm. Maybe she was missing something?

"You look wonderful, dear." Emma changed the subject.

"It does suit you a lot better," admitted her daughter.

"I feel a lot better," agreed Ayda. "I'm a lot more mobile, like I could break into a sprint whenever I wanted."

"Well, I guess that's a good thing," Emma said with a shrug.

"Come on, let's go find more, now that we know what to look for." Jackie took Ayda's wrist again, but did not pull her along this time. Instead, she allowed her to follow of her own accord. "Isn't this fun, Ayda?"

"Yeah, it's a lot better than I thought it would be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Emma laughed at the girls' banter.

Ayda swiftly lost track of exactly how much time she spent inside the clothing store. She didn't remember much about shopping back before being taken, but she knew it was never an enjoyable time. What made this instance different? It could have been maturity or, more likely, the present company. Jacqueline always had something funny or interesting to say, and Emma's calm grace provided the perfect balance.

All in all, Ayda made out with an entire wardrobe's worth of garments. She knew little about combining different articles, but Jackie claimed she could go a few months without ever wearing the same assemblage twice. That seemed somewhat unlikely, but Ayda went along with it. Jacqueline probably knew what she was talking about, and if not, Emma seemed to have a level head on her shoulders.

The trio approached one of the several food counters set into the borders of the court. They waited in a short line. Ayda took a gander at the menu, and was immediately more bewildered than she'd been for a very long time. Combinations of words she'd never so much as considered before crossed her consciousness. How was a split banana supposed to be a treat? Was Sunday misspelled on purpose? At Emma's suggestion, she went with something which sounded safe. Then again, cones usually meant caution. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

They sat down at a little table constructed of white plastic wires, meant for a maximum of four people, bolted to the ground for some reason. Jacqueline put her purse on the floor and immediately began sucking on something called a coffee milkshake. Emma had ordered on of those Sundaes—Ayda couldn't get over how wrong that word looked—which was really just vanilla ice cream with molten caramel and nuts on top. Ayda herself stared pensively into a tall soft serve cone, pure white dessert spiraled atop a light as air wafer handle.

"So, how do I start this?" She asked.

"You lick it," Emma replied simply.

"Go for the curl on top first," Jackie added. "That's what I always do."

Ayda raised an eyebrow at them. Licking it seemed a bit barbaric, not to mention degrading. Not too late to back out. Though, the Belmonts probably wouldn't eat it if there were any sort of danger. The cone hadn't left her hand since being prepared, and it came from the same machine as Emma's order. What would they think if she didn't eat it? Nothing ventured, nothing gained, and she stood to gain a whole lot. Ayda took a big chomp right off the top of the spiral. She immediately winced.

"It's cold!" She cried out.

Pain quickly gave way to rapture as she worked the concoction around. Ayda practically melted at the sensation which crept through her being. Jackie giggled.

"Good, isn't it?" She joked.

"It's the best thing I've ever tasted!" Ayda hastily look another large portion with her tongue, ignoring the laughter which emanated from her companions.

The three slipped off into their own little world, oblivious to the environment around them. Ayda attacked her ice cream cone with the ferocity of a feasting barbarian, while the others fed on her infectious energy. It was a kind and simple moment, where time slowed down to focus on the importance of happiness and family.

But peace was fleeting. The laws of nature paused for no man, or woman in this case. Where one person found solace, another saw only opportunity. A man wearing sunglasses and dressed all in black shuffled through the crowd. Hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, he was trying to look invisible. These three ladies were clearly well-to-do. They never even saw him coming.

In one fluid motion, the man bent down and snatched up Jacqueline's purse. However, the man was not a very smart thief. Without missing a single step, he took off running. The women snapped focus all at once on to the sound of heavy footsteps sprinting away.

"Hey, my purse!" Jackie called after him. "That man stole my purse! Someone stop him! Thief!"

While Jacqueline just sat there uselessly calling for help, Ayda had already sprung into action. She gave chase to the man, pushing off the table for a little extra starting momentum. When her soles actually hit the ground, she was already at a sprint.

Now, Ayda was pretty fast on her feet, especially for a twelve-year-old girl, but this thief must have been an Olympic sprinter. Even running full out, she hadn't the slightest prayer of catching him. Not under her own power, anyway. She needed help. The choice whether or not to use her abilities was never really a debate. The man had Jackie's bag. He would not get away with it.

However, Ayda was smart enough to exercise at least a modicum of discretion. She needn't much to catch him, just enough to provide a boost. She created miniscule blasts underneath her feet, almost indistinguishable at the speed she was moving and inaudible over the natural din of music, people, and ventilation. Still, it gave her the advantage she needed.

But that was not the only thing working in her favor. Being the one in the lead, it was the thief's burden to push through the crowd. By the time Ayda reached where he'd just been, the sea had already parted. Charging his way through confused groups slowed him considerably.

Within not even a minute, Ayda had closed the gap. She leapt at him. At the sudden weight on his back, the man missed a step and crumbled to the floor. They slid along the tile for a moment, a hopeless tangle of limbs. Ayda shifted her weight to the right, ensuring she would not roll underneath her victim.

When they skidded to a halt, she swiftly transitioned into a standard top guard, straddling the man's lower back. With one hand, she snatched up the bag. In the same motion, she pressed his head into the ground with the other. He squirmed and bucked, trying to throw her off, but his speed did not translate into strength. Although maybe half his age, Ayda was far stronger. Wiry muscle could not win him the day. He wasn't going anywhere.

Ayda bared her teeth, applying more pressure to the thief's head. He stopped struggling before too long, utterly defeated. It was over. She had won. She rescued Jackie's bag. That would probably put her in their good graces.

Gratification morphed into disarray as Ayda felt a chill run down her spine, as if a thousand eyes judged her all at once. She looked around. A small crowd had formed around the scene. Onlookers gazed down at them in a mix of anxiety and shock. Why did they all look so afraid? She stopped a thief. That was a good thing, right?

Ayda peered through the gathering, and her heart sank. Emma and Jacqueline ran up to the outer edge of the pack. Jackie had her hands clasped in front of her mouth, and Emma wore an expression which could only be described as concerned disappointment. Why were they so surprised?

There was little time to think about any of this, however, as two security guards stormed onto the scene. One ripped Ayda off the perpetrator, while the other quickly put him in handcuffs. Ayda knew why the guard restrained her. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't to hurt the thief anymore. It made sense.

It wasn't until they were both dragged off in the same direction that Ayda began to panic. She pulled at her new aggressors in a vain attempt to free herself. The guard was easily three times her size, and had the finger strength to back it up.

"Where are you taking me?" She screamed. "The thief is right there, I had nothing to do with it! Hey, wait, WAIT!"

…

Another dimly lit room, although this one not by design. One of the long florescent lights had burned out, shrouding the latter half in relative darkness. Ayda remained well illuminated, though. Light shone like a spot on her slumped shoulders, reflecting off the cuffs which held her to a bolted down metal chair.

Save for the aforementioned chair and a fake little tree in the left hand corner, the room was mostly undecorated. Wider than it was long, this was a holding area of sorts. It operated as a halfway point for detainees while they waited for either interrogation or judgment. Ayda had been brought there after her altercation with the thief.

It had been a half hour, if not a little longer. One thing the room lacked, probably on purpose, was a clock. Thirty minutes to stew in her own pitied puzzlement, to wonder what she'd done wrong. No matter how many times Ayda went through the events in her head, all her decisions seemed perfectly justified. Maybe she'd tackled the thief a bit too hard? It was the only logical conclusion she could come to.

The door to her right swung open. A security guard entered, idly jingling a set of keys in his right hand. Ayda slowly looked up at him, expression grim, prepared for the worst. The guard bent down to fiddle with the restraints but to her surprise, instead of unclasping her from the chair, he freed her hand first.

"Alright, you're free to go," he said in a naturally gruff tone.

"You're letting me go?" Ayda wondered, massaging her wrist.

"Yeah, we just had to make sure you weren't involved, is all." He took a breath. "We appreciate the sentiment, just don't do it again."

“You thought I was involved?” Ayda stood. “But I was clearly chasing the guy!”

“Yes, but it's more complicated than that.”

“It seems pretty simple to me,” declined Ayda. The guard sighed.

“Firstly, vigilantism is illegal, so even if you did the right thing, you still broke the law. Secondly, we didn't know at the time if the thief was working alone. If not, his accomplices would probably try to look for the little girl who brought him down.”

“I could've taken them, if they did,” Ayda insisted.

“Right, of course you could.” The guard rolled his eyes. “Beyond all of that, you could've taken something from the purse yourself, but your sister confirmed nothing was missing, so we ruled that out. Finally, that entire scene could've been a distraction for us while something else went down in the mall. There's more, but that's the gist of it.”

“What? I already told you I'm not involved!”

“And we know that now.” The guard remained calm, but there was a hint of tension on his face. “We had to hold you until our investigation was complete. Be glad it didn't take longer.”

“That's bullshit,” Ayda muttered.

“It's necessary,” the guard countered. “You're free to go, but if you continue to be defiant, I can put you right back in those cuffs.”

“No, I get it.” Ayda deflated. “I don't like it, but I get it."

“Good,” the guard nodded. “You're lucky your dad is such an influential person. This would've taken a lot longer if he didn't vouch for you.”

"Bernard is here?" Was the only thing Ayda could think to say.

"He's right outside, wating to take you home. Come on."

The security guard exited the room, motioning for Ayda to do the same. She slowly followed, dreading any sort of confrontation with Bernard. Still, she was mature enough to accept her punishment. She walked out the door, head hung low.

Just as the guard had said, Bernard awaited her a few feet outside the holding room. With a deep breath, Ayda raised her eyes to meet his unnecessarily gentle ones. She took even steps over to him, trying to appear as calm as possible. That all disintegrated, though, the moment she opened her mouth.

"Bernard, I'm sorry. That man came by and he grabbed Jackie's bag and I didn't know what else to do so I caught him but then everyone was looking at me and—" She spoke at a mile a minute, trying to get everything out all at once, mortified she'd messed all of this up. She half expected Colonel Hammond to walk around the corner and take her away. Instead, Bernard laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she stopped.

"It's okay, Ayda. You're not in trouble," he said slowly.

"I'm not?"

"No. If anything," he got down on one knee, "I'm proud of you for being so brave, but you can't just chase after criminals like that. Think about how worried Emma was, how worried I was when I got the call."

"But that guy had Jackie's purse," Ayda argued. "He was gonna get away with it."

"That's a problem for the police to handle, not a little girl. What if you'd gotten hurt?"

"I'm not a little girl," Ayda muttered. "That doesn't make any sense, Bernard! If I can do something to stop him, then I should just do it. Why would I let him get away?"

"Because he could've been dangerous," Bernard countered. "He could've had a knife or a gun. We have policemen to handle people like him."

"Guns have never been a problem for me before," perhaps unwisely, Ayda copped an attitude. "We both know he couldn't have hurt me, even if he wanted to."

The energy in the room immediately shifted. Bernard inclined his head. Ayda didn't know what was going on, but she felt suddenly quite troubled.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Bernard said lowly. "You used your powers to catch him, didn't you?"

Ayda didn't respond, only nodded her head. Why did adults insist on asking questions they already knew the answer to? Bernard's grasp on her shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

"Ayda, listen to me. It's important you don't use your powers in public. Your case is still classified. No one can know about you, understand?" Although perfectly calm, his tone was grave.

"Why not?"

"Because the world isn't ready for someone like you, not yet. Think of the panic if it got out that people with strange powers walked among us. There'd be a witch hunt, and it wouldn't be just you. People would falsely accuse others of having powers. They would be afraid, and when people are afraid, they get violent. We'd have a crises on our hands. People would get hurt. You would get hurt. It has to remain a secret, okay?"

"Doesn't that seem a bit extreme?" Ayda gave him a sideways glance. All that because of one girl? It sounded utterly ridiculous.

"Maybe, but it's already happened once before. Back in the sixteen-hundreds, there was an event called the Salem Witch Trials, which was exactly what I just described. People accused their friends and neighbors, even family members, of having magical powers. The guilty were imprisoned, tortured, and killed, and back then the magic wasn't even real. Imagine what would happen if it really was?"

Ayda looked down. She knew nothing about these supposed trials, but something told her Bernard wouldn't lie, not about something so important.

"Please, Ayda." Bernard took her other shoulder. "There will come a time when we can tell the whole world about you, it just isn't right now. You have to keep everything a secret, for the good of humanity."

When he put it like that, Ayda found the entire situation much more agreeable. She liked the idea of helping people, and by keeping her big secret, she could do so every single day.

"Okay," she agreed.

"Okay," parroted Bernard. He stood and placed his hand between Ayda's shoulders, leading her down the corridor. "Come on, let's go find Emma and Jackie. They're worried sick."