Abby sat cross-legged on the common house floor, a book on her lap. The early morning sun spilling through the window painted bright stripes across her jeans. Louise was perched on the couch, her white-grey hair catching the light like it was woven from moonlight. JP sprawled beside her, sipping tea, visibly more relaxed than he had been for days.

"You think she's-"

"Yep" he quickly replied, reading her mind. "She's the voice I've been hearing."

"Can you even hear her? Does she... talk in her head?"

"Nobody actually talks in their head," he explained. "Most people just think in concepts. Pictures. You do, and Louise does too."

"Huh." Abby said and paged through the book JP had given her. Aperçu de la langue des signes québécoise - an introduction to Quebec sign language. She could barely follow the directions, made worse only by the fact that she actually didn't speak French. Still, she tried her best, signing crudely to Louise.

Friend, Abby signed, You, Me. It took her a bit, but Louise understood. She quickly signed back.

Sorry I scared you.

Abby watched her movements, paged through the book and tried to sign back. Palm facing her, then move it away from the chest to face towards Louise.

"That means you're welcome." JP corrected her and signed it correctly for her. "You wanna say something like... I understand or No problem."

"How do you know all this stuff?" Abby asked. JP just shrugged.

"My sister was deaf."

"You have a sister?"

"Had." He said and didn't elaborate, but nodded knowingly when Abby considered in her mind what he was trying to say.

"I'm... sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Not your fault."

Louise's gaze fell onto the polaroid wall. Who are these?

"Those before us" JP said and signed.

Louise took one of the pictures, Sadie and Jesse, 2010. With her other hand, she signed. Can I look?

Abby and JP just shrugged, then nodded. Louise closed her eyes, and an illusory image appeared around them. Most of the walls were missing. Sadie, younger, her black hair pulled into a messy ponytail, balanced on a rickety rope ladder, pressing iron nails into wooden beams with her bare hands. A few other pieces of wood were floating around her.

"Left a little" Sadie said, and the girl sitting on the other branch moved her hands. Jesse was tall, taller than Abby had expected from the picture, and her blonde hair was pulled into a loose braid. The beam shifted. "Perfect."

Memory Sadie sat down on the fixed beam, leaned back and looked up at the summer sky. "What if we're doing this for nothing?"

Jesse turned to her, blonde strands slipping free from her braid to frame her face. "What do you mean?"

"We're... building this place for people like us. But what if nobody comes? Forever? We're breaking our backs, and for what?"

Jesse smiled. "Even if nobody shows up, it's home, right? Somewhere we don't have to hide."

Sadie's gaze stayed fixed on her hands, her fingers slowly curling into fists. "Doesn't feel like that."

"Yet."

The echo dissolved as quickly as it came. Louise put the polaroid back on the wall, smiling gently.

"Can you ask her something for me?" Abby said to JP. "Don't think my LSQ is good enough for that yet."

"Sure" he replied. "What is it?"

"Why… me? Why'd she follow me?"

JP nodded and began to sign. Louise understood, but needed a moment to think. Then, slowly, tentatively, she started to sign back.

"Your echoes were very… loud." JP narrowed his eyes. "Colourful?"

"What's that mean?" Abby asked and signed. Louise didn't reply, but instead held out her hand.

"She wants to show you." JP said, reading Louise's mind.

"It's not going to… hurt, right?" The memories of Sadie's incident were still fresh in her mind. JP signed for Louise, and she shook her head.

"She'll be careful." Abby nodded and scooted closer to Louise, then held out her hand. Louise took it, and a flurry of colours and emotions exploded behind Abby's eyes.

She was eleven again, standing barefoot on the soft grass of her San Francisco backyard. It was late July, the summer after she'd first teleported to the Tahoe cabin, and the air buzzed with the hum of cicadas and the smoky scent of charcoal. The sun hung low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, while the Golden Gate Bridge loomed faintly beyond the rooftops. Her family's blue-painted house on Lombard Street framed the scene, its open back door spilling out laughter and the clatter of plates. Her father - professor for history at the University of California - stood behind the grill, laser focused on the burgers on the grate.

"Catch!" Abby's sister Maeve yelled into her direction and hurled a frisbee in her direction. It flew just a little too high, so Abby leapt to catch it. She was just a little too far away, the frisbee just flew too high, if she could just-

A flash of light, and she stumbled onto the far side of the garden, crashing into a rosebush. Thorns snagged at her shorts, and the frisbee fell to the ground with a soft thud.

"Abby!" Maeve ran over and helped her out of the bush. "You okay?"

"I didn't mean to!" Abby yelped and tried to scramble to her feet, but instead teleported again, this time an inch in front of the grill, nearly knocking her father off balance.

"Whoa, careful!" Alonso Louden laughed and steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Her mother was there too, kneeling beside her. "Abby, honey, are you okay?" Her voice was calm, a therapist's soothing tone, but her eyes searched Abby's face with quiet concern.

"I can't control it," Abby whimpered, tears prickling. "It just keeps happening!"

"Hey, shh, it's alright," Donna said, brushing a strand of Abby's hair back. "You're still figuring this out. That's normal."

"Normal?" Abby sniffled. "How's this normal! I'm… bouncing around like a freak!"

"You're not a freak," her father cut in, crouching beside them. "You're amazing. Look at what you can do - nobody else in the world can pull that off."

Maeve jogged over, grinning. "Yeah, you're like… Nightcrawler! Except, y'know, less coordinated. And you don't smell of sulphur."

"Maeve!" Donna scolded, but she was smiling too. She took Abby's hands, her touch warm and steady. "Sweetheart, you're not alone in this. We're here, okay? We'll help you get the hang of it - together."

Abby nodded, the knot in her chest loosening. She glanced at her family - Dad's proud grin, Maeve's playful smirk, Mom's reassuring gaze - and felt a wave of safety wash over her. "Okay," she whispered, managing a small smile.

The memory flickered, before dissolving into a different setting. This time, Abby was at the Presidio, on a warm afternoon, the sun slowly setting over the bay, in a small side road with a wooden dock. Nobody was there at this hour, except her and her friends - Emma, her best friend that she'd known since kindergarten, with wild red curls, sitting on the ground cross-legged, braiding a friendship bracelet. Two more - Leo with his skateboard and Priya with her sketchbook - lounged on the grass. Priya was sketching the Golden Gate Bridge, her fingers stained black from the solid graphite pencil she insisted on using. Abby fidgeted. She knew she could trust her friends, but she was still a little anxious about the reaction she'd get.

"So," she started. "I got something to show you."

"Like, a new comic?" Priya asked without looking up from her sketch.

"No, um… bigger than that." She stepped in front of them, then focused on the pier. The warm light enveloped her once again, and the world twisted around her, throwing her a little off balance until she could feel the wood under her shoes.

"What the- what?" Leo yelped, and Priya dropped her pencil in shock.

"Did you just- Abby, did you just teleport?" Emma asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah." Abby said, grinning like an idiot but trying to play it cool.

"That's… insane!" Leo cheered. "Come on, do it again!"

Abby nodded, focused on the top of the junction box and let herself fall into the teleport a little. When she opened her eyes again, she was sitting on it, looking down at Leo.

Priya clapped politely. "You're a real superhero."

"Seriously cool, Abs-" Emma said and gave her a big hug. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

Abby looked away. "Didn't know how you'd take it. You could have thought I was… weird."

"Hell, if that's weird, who wants to be normal?" Leo replied. "How's it work? Can you teleport me to the top of a sick ramp?"

"I'm still practicing. But…" she blushed.

"But?"

"I made it to Tahoe once."

"Wow. Not bad." Priya put her sketchbook away. "You're gonna do superhero stuff?"

"I'm not-"

"Oh, you need a secret identity. Costume and everything." Emma said.

"Sidekicks. Cool lair. Batmobile," Leo listed off.

"I… thought about making a costume. Pink, yellow, cape, all that."

"Wow. Wow!" Emma was practically hopping up and down with excitement. "This is so cool! Can you teleport us all to the ice cream stand on the-"

"Nope, not a good idea." Abby interrupted her. "We're gonna have to walk."

"You're buying." Leo said and slung an arm around her shoulder. "Superheroes gotta take care of their sidekicks."

The last light of the afternoon on the Presidio faded into the brown of the wooden walls. The common house snapped back into focus. Abby blinked, not realising tears were streaming down her face as she pulled her hand from Louise's. The warmth of her old life lingered, like the pain of an old injury. She had had it all. Safety. Loving friends. A family that understood her. She missed it so fiercely that it hurt.

Louise watched her, signing gently, slowly.

"Your memories are bright. Colourful. Full of… happiness."

Abby nodded and wiped her tears on her sweater. "They were. I mean, it was lonely sometimes, and I wish I could have met someone like me, but…" She sniffled. "It was still… right. Safe. Home." She glanced at the window, where SF house loomed between the branches. A flicker of anger sparked in her chest. Riley had dragged her into this, and if she had just been careful, listened to what Abby was saying, they could have avoided all of this.

Abby exhaled shakily, the ache of her old life still twisting in her gut. She forced a smile, glancing at Louise, whose pale eyes held a quiet understanding. "Thanks," Abby signed clumsily, her fingers fumbling through the unfamiliar shapes. For showing me.

Louise nodded, her own hands moving with a grace Abby envied. You're welcome, she signed back, then tilted her head toward JP. He's good teacher.

JP smirked, catching the sentiment without needing the translation. "I try," he said, sipping his tea. "You're picking it up fast, though. Better than me when I started."

"Yeah, well, I've got motivation," Abby muttered, flipping the LSQ book shut. She stretched her legs out, the stiffness from sitting too long creeping up her calves. The common house felt smaller now. She needed to move, to breathe. "Hey, Louise," she said, then signed as best she could, Want to see camp?

Louise's face brightened, a flicker of curiosity cutting through her usual stillness. She nodded eagerly, sliding off the couch. JP raised an eyebrow. "You sure? She just got here."

"She's one of us now," Abby said, echoing Sadie's words from the night before. "Might as well show her the ropes. Or, y'know, the ladders."

JP shrugged, setting his mug down. "Alright. I'll tag along. Someone's gotta translate when you butcher the signs. And don't… think too loud."

"Ha ha," Abby deadpanned, but she didn't argue. She held the door open for Louise, who stepped out onto the platform with a cautious grace, her white-grey hair catching the morning light like frost on glass. The forest stretched out below, a tangle of snow-dusted pines and swaying bridges, the air sharp with cold and sap. Abby took a deep breath, letting it steady her.

"Where to?"

"SF house is closest" she said and signed clumsily. My house.

She led them over the swaying rope suspension bridge to Riley and her treehouse. Abby pushed the door open, it creaking a little bit. Riley was still asleep - or at least pretending to be - curled under her blanket with her dad's notebook clutched to her chest. Abby ignored the little spark of irritation and anger that flared up inside her and signed to Louise. My house. Riley's too.

Louise stepped in, her gaze sweeping the cramped space - the string lights dangling from the ceiling, the worn table littered with Riley's pens, the duffel bag spilling clothes onto the floor. She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of the table, and the air shimmered faintly.

A flicker of memory bloomed: Abby and Riley, the night they'd first arrived, with cuts and bruises, held together by Marigold's healing abilities. They were exhausted, in pain, but still relieved for the somewhat warm bed.

The echo faded, leaving Abby blinking back a sting in her eyes. Louise pulled her hand away, signing quickly. You were running away. Abby just nodded.

They moved on to Autumn's treehouse next, the tallest in the camp, its platform bolted high against the rock face. Louise climbed the rope ladder with surprising ease, her small frame belying a wiry strength. Autumn let them in, but didn't say much. Inside, the space was sparse but serene - crystals glinted on the windowsill, dreamcatchers swayed in the breeze. Louise touched the doorframe, and another memory flickered to life: Autumn, floating cross-legged, arranging those crystals with a precision that bordered on reverence. Her voice hummed softly, a tune Abby didn't recognise, and the air seemed to ripple with her power, gentle and controlled.

Louise smiled faintly as the echo dissolved. Peace, she signed, and JP nodded.

"Glad you like it." Autumn mumbled. "Now go bother someone else."

Marigold's treehouse was a burst of life, even in winter. Marigold herself was nowhere to be found - she was probably in her greenhouse, down on the ground. Vines twisted up the walls, their faint green tips peeking through the snow. Louise ran her fingers along one, and the air filled with Marigold's laughter, bright and punctuated by tiny sneezes. The memory showed her kneeling in the dirt, hands glowing as she coaxed the vines higher, her face smudged with soil and pride. "Grow, you little bastards," she'd muttered, grinning as the plants obeyed. The tour wound down to the clearing, the heart of the camp, where the pines loomed tall and the snow lay thick. Louise wandered ahead, her curiosity pulling her toward the trees at the edge. Abby and JP trailed behind, the morning sun warming their backs despite the chill. "She's fitting in fast," JP remarked, kicking at a clump of snow.

"She's got no reason not to," Abby said. "We're all weird here."

Louise stopped by one of the larger pines, its bark rough and scarred. She reached out, her fingers brushing the trunk, and froze. The air shimmered, sharper this time, and Abby's stomach dropped as the echo took shape.

Men and women in uniforms - park rangers - moved through the clearing, their boots crunching the snow. Behind them, others in USGS jackets carried equipment: seismographs, sample kits, cameras. One ranger pointed at the treehouses, his voice low but clear.

"Someone's been here. Look at the construction. Too deliberate for squatters." A geologist knelt, scraping soil into a vial. "Readings spiked last night," she said, her tone clipped. "Same pattern as '98, but stronger. We need to get this to Vassos."

The memory shifted - time passing in a blur - and another figure appeared. Dr. David Vassos himself, older than Riley's dad in the polaroid, his face lined and grim. He stood where Louise was now, staring up at the camp with a mix of recognition and dread, then at the original hut that was hiding the entrance to the hall of records. "That shack wasn't here before. Someone knows."

The echo snapped shut, leaving the clearing silent. Louise yanked her hand back, her eyes wide with alarm, signing frantically. JP's face paled as he translated, his voice unsteady. "She says they were here. While we were at the fair. Park rangers, scientists, they know about camp."

Abby's heart slammed against her ribs. "What? When?"

"Last night," JP said, watching Louise's hands. "The echoes don't lie. We're compromised."

Abby spun toward the treehouses, half-expecting to see uniforms climbing the ladders now. Someone was here, at their camp, at their home, and they'd been too busy with fireworks and funnel cakes to notice. "We have to tell Sadie," she said, her voice trembling. "Right now."