"Welcome to your new home," Frank said, introducing Valeria to  the foyer of their large two-story townhouse. She entered with caution, her pace slow.

Jada brushed past them in a hurry. "I'm going to the kitchen. I need a stiff drink," she said without turning around.

Valeria studied the elegant fireplace and stopped by a mantle filled with picture frames. Photos of a girl her age were mounted there, and she studied one in particular. She had tan colored skin, coarse dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a wide smile. Another picture depicted Frank, Jada and their daughter, and she studied it carefully.

"Her name was Bianca." Frank approached the mantle and pointed at the picture of his daughter. "Her seventeenth birthday would have been tomorrow."

Valeria held the picture and sighed. "That's terrible. I'm sorry...you said it was Leukemia?

"Yeah."

"Did she suffer?"

"Yes," Jada answered from the kitchen entrance, her tone raw. "My daughter endured countless rounds of chemo and transfusions." She took slow steady steps toward them, the ice cubes in her cocktail clanging against the glass. "But she kept fighting for an entire year. She was braver than anyone in this room."

Frank sighed and tried to comfort Jada, but she swatted him away. "No, I'm still angry, and I'm going to speak my mind now. I still can't believe my husband thinks he can just swap out his dead daughter for a new one."

"She was my daughter too," Frank protested. "We both sat with her in that hospital room. Don't act like you're the only one who lost something."

"Then why do this? You think a protégé will make everything better around here? It won't!"

Frank looked over at Valeria. "Forgive us. You shouldn't have to hear this. I can take you upstairs -"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I would like to stay, unless you would like me to leave." She looked down at the family photograph and exhaled. "You welcomed me into your home. I'm the reason you both are angry, so take it out on me."

"This is not your fault. It's my fault," Frank said with a sigh. "Right, Jada?"

Jada rolled her eyes, exhaled, and sat down. "Maybe that's right. Maybe we're all to blame." Her posture softened as her eyes settled on Valeria. "I'm not angry with you, girl. I just...need more time to adjust. That's all."

"Well," she said, locking eyes with Jada, "I already told your husband this, but I'll repeat it. With the exception of my parents, who died when I was five, no one has ever given a damn about me. I always dreamed of being adopted someday, and while this isn't exactly what I imagined, it still means a lot to me. I'll work really hard, and I won't disappoint you."

Jada studied her a moment. "We'll have to see. I won't make it easy on you, so you better get some rest. Breakfast is at eight. Good night, Valeria."

Frank pointed to the stairs and said, "Your room is up there. Everything is already prepared, and I'll be up in a minute to show you around."

Valeria exited the living room and climbed the stairs. She stopped near the second floor, turned, silently descended a few steps, and listened to the two of them talking in hushed tones below.

"See," Frank whispered below. "It'll be good having her here. She's a sweetheart."

"Even if that's true," Jada whispered back, "it doesn't make me any less angry. You should have consulted me."

"I know you've been hesitant to take on a protege since Bianca's death . Even if I told you about Dontrell's plan, I knew you might disagree, and I couldn't risk it. The girl is too important."

"His plan?" Jada asked. "You knew he would lure the girl with revenge?"

"Of course I knew," Frank whispered back. "When I found her  a month ago, I knew what she was capable of becoming. She could change everything, Jada. Everything. If a girl like her ended up in the wrong hands, the world could erupt in chaos."

Valeria nearly lost her balance as she listened. Their conversation didn't make any sense. She was important? She could change the world? Since when? She cast her thoughts aside, making sure to retain her balance at the top of the stairs, and hoping her movement had gone unnoticed.

"The world is already in chaos," Jada countered. "So, after all your posturing, you were simply using your charm on the girl? Just to keep her away from Dontrell?"

Frank sighed. "Initially, yes. But not anymore. She's more than just a protégé. She's a good kid, and we need to look out for her. I already enrolled her for school last week; she starts in two days. It'll help keep her safe."

"Two days?" Jada protested. "You think she'll be ready in time?"

"She will," Frank replied. "I'm going upstairs. Goodnight, hon."

Valeria crept up the stairs without making a sound, and slipped into the bedroom nearby. She flipped on the lamp, collapsed on the bed, and exhaled through gritted teeth.

I have to start school in two days?!

"Oh, there you are," Frank said from the doorway. "This will be your room. I already have a toiletry bag in the bathroom across the hall." He walked over to the closet. "You can also use my daughter's old clothes for now. Jada can take you shopping in the morning for clothes, makeup, jewelry, and anything else you need. I'm going grocery shopping tomorrow, so if you have any requests, write them down," he said, placing a pen and paper on the desk.

"When do I get a phone?" she asked.

Frank laughed. "Of course. You wouldn't be a normal teenager without one, huh? You'll get one tomorrow... after you learn the rules of the house."

"Rules?" Valeria asked, her face bunched up into a frown.

"I warned you there were stipulations about entering our world. While under our care, you will follow our rules. They may take away part of your freedom, but I assure you, they are meant to keep you safe. Understood?"

"Depends what they are."

Frank returned to the doorway and said, "Get some rest, kiddo. We've got a long day tomorrow."

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks again for taking me in."

Frank smiled again. "Thanks for giving us a chance. Good night, Valeria."

With the door closed, Valeria found some pajamas in the dresser and changed. The joint she stole earlier was still in her pocket. She tapped it against her lips, uncertain if she should celebrate now, or save it for a special occasion. She opted for the latter and hid it in the dresser. The floor creaked outside, and she slammed the drawer shut as Jada entered the room.

"Our bedroom is downstairs," she said. "Let us know if you need anything."

"Thanks." She exhaled slowly, relieved she hadn't been caught. She walked over to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, returned, and crept under the covers. The bedroom was mostly unadorned, but with closer inspection,  patches of peeling paint were visible in rectangular patterns. Posters might have lined these walls, but they must have been recently torn down.

This was  Bianca's room.

She had never had her own bedroom before. Even at her parent's house back in El Salvador, Valeria had shared a bedroom with her parents in their small flat. When her aunt brought her to the United States, they lived in overcrowded conditions. Her aunt passed away from cancer not long after their arrival to the United States, and since she was a minor, she couldn't be deported and was forced into the foster care system.Throughout the years, she had always shared a room with other kids at the shelter, and always hoped to be adopted someday. But no one ever wanted her.

As she got older, Valeria learned how to escape the orphanage and tried to make her own way in the world, but always found the deck stacked against her. She tried to follow the rules and find work, but no one would hire an underage girl with no work history or formal education. No one except thieves, drug dealers, and pimps.

She focused on stealing and found it came naturally to her. She tried to retain some code of ethics and stole what she needed to survive, with the exception of sneaking into a few movie theaters. She was always on the move; no place felt like home. Her thefts landed her in the juvenile detention center, and things just went downhill after that.

The nicely decorated bedroom was completely foreign, like she had entered another world. The bed was too soft, the extra blankets excessive. Unable to sleep, she took one of the blankets, a pillow, and laid supine beside the bed. She wasn't sure which world would be the most difficult to adjust to: the Rogue world, or this formal one.

Lying on the floor, she replayed the conversation from the stairwell in the back of her mind. Frank had said she could change everything. What did he mean by that? Could she change the Rogue world? The real world? Both? The answers eluded her as she drifted off to sleep.

                                            #

When she woke it was to the smell of bacon overwhelming her nostrils. She checked the clock next to the bed. Seven-thirty. Readjusting her pajamas, she got up , yawned, and descended the stairs. She found Frank and Jada in the kitchen making breakfast.

She almost didn't recognize them in their civilian clothes. Both wore glasses, with Frank dressed in a buttoned-up shirt and khakis; Jada wore a flower printed dress, her hair pulled back in a bun. Frank flipped bacon on the broiler while Jada stirred eggs in a pan. Their transformation was incredible; they looked like ordinary people.

"Morning, kiddo," Frank said, placing the bacon on the table. "What do you want to drink?"

"Have any orange juice?"

"Of course," Frank replied, heading toward the refrigerator.

"She can get it herself," Jada countered. "Glasses are in the cupboard."

Valeria went to the cupboard, removed a glass, and grabbed the orange juice from the refrigerator. She sat at the table and poured a glass, but Jada addressed her again, her tone strict and authoritative. "We made breakfast, you'll set the table. Silverware is over here."

Groaning, Valeria stood and approached the cabinet. She was already getting tired of being bossed around. She grabbed three sets of silverware, tablecloths, plates, and set them in a clumsy pile at three places on the table.

Frank sighed as he arranged the silverware. "This is how you correctly set a table. Tablecloth goes on the left, with the fork on top. The knife and spoon go on the right side."

"Does it really matter?" she asked with a sigh. It was her first day in the formal world and she was already failing.

"Yes, it does," Jada said, shuffling eggs on her plate. "Learning the little things will help you blend in better."

Studying Frank and Jada in their civilian attire, she asked, "Is that why you're dressed that way? To blend in?"

Frank placed two pieces of bacon on her plate. "Exactly. Every good Rogue needs to blend in with normal society. Thieves like us are better than most," he said, taking the seat across from her.

The smell of bacon was overwhelming, and her stomach rumbled in anticipation. She reached for a piece, but Jada swatted her hand and took the other seat.

"We say Grace first. Honey?"

Frank bowed his head. "Dear Lord, thank you for this meal we are about to receive. Thank you for bringing Valeria to our home, and let your servant Prometheus watch over us all. Amen."

That name sounded familiar. She looked over at Frank, her eyebrow raised. "That's the second time I've heard that name. Why did you mention him instead of Jesus?"

He looked over at Jada, but she shook her head. "You take this one."

"Of course," Frank said, "As Christians, we also worship Jesus. But as Rogues, we also revere Prometheus: the original trickster and thief. His story serves as the inspiration for Rogues everywhere."

"His story?"

"Prometheus was a Titan in Greek mythology," he continued. "He was a Rogue who rejected the rules Zeus dictated to humankind. He stole the gift of fire and delivered it to us." Frank grinned as he reached for a piece of bacon. "One could say, Prometheus was the original Robin Hood."

"He was also sloppy and got caught," Jada added, her tone impatient. "He was punished for the rest of eternity for his crimes, and thus the other moral of the story: never allow yourself to be caught."

Frank nodded. "Which brings us to the rules. If you want to live with us, you will follow our rules. They'll save us from danger and being caught. Understand?"

Valeria stuffed her face with a spoonful of eggs. "Lay it on me."

"Do not talk with your mouth full," Jada quipped.

She swallowed the food and wiped her face. "Sorry Ma'am."

"First rule," Frank said, pointing a finger at her. "You will let us know where you are at all times, unless you're at school. Something simple like a text is enough."

She smirked, realizing this rule involved something she wanted. "That might be easier if I had a phone."

"Oh, don't worry," Jada countered, "I have one right here." She removed a cellphone from her pocket and slid it across the table.

Valeria inspected the outdated phone with disgust. She anticipated some kind of smartphone, but this outdated device didn't match that description. "This is my phone?! This thing looks older than I am!"

"It gets excellent signal and exchanges text messages anywhere in the world," Jada countered. "You don't need a smartphone - they make people dumber anyway."

Frank frowned at Jada. "My wife is a little more old school. You'll start with this. If you behave, maybe I'll get you  a smartphone."

Valeria groaned with disapproval before pocketing it. "Alright. What's next?"

Jada adjusted her glasses. "You will go to public school, where we expect you to maintain a 3.0 grade point average."

Valeria stared at her wide eyed. "You can't be serious! I haven't been in school for years! There's no way I can succeed there." Others might use this argument to cut class, but not her. She was already afraid of failing as a Rogue. Would she really be able to balance training and school? If she failed at both, would she still be welcome in this house?

Jada wagged a finger at her. "Not with that type of attitude."

Valeria crossed her arms, her defiant posture an attempt to mask her fear. "Why do I have to go to school? You want me to be an expert thief, right?"

"We do," Frank said, pinching the glasses on his nose. "The most important thing an expert thief needs is an alter ego."

Valeria studied his attire, and realized he was right. "I see, like Clark Kent for Superman?"

"Exactly kiddo."

"So, what's your alter ego?"

Frank straightened in his chair and adjusted his collar. "My name is Detective Frank Malone, Burglary Division."

Her mouth dropped. "You're a cop? No freaking way!"

"Surprise!" He grabbed a piece of bacon and took a large bite. "Go on honey. Your turn."

She turned to Jada, who adjusted her dress and cleared her throat. "Good morning class. My name is Mrs. Janelle Malone, and I will be your English teacher today."

Valeria covered her mouth, stopping herself from exclaiming, you've gotta be shitting me. The truth was unbelievable and undeniable. The most revered criminal in the world was an English teacher.

"That's right," Jada said, her politeness gone. "We work forty hour work weeks, pay our taxes, and go to church on Sunday."

"Sounds crazy, right?" Frank asked, a smile across his face, "but when you think about it – it makes sense. We blend in with normal society, and no one ever suspects us of anything. In this way, we remain invisible."

"In order for us to remain invisible," Jada added, "you will need to become invisible too. You will pose as a foreign exchange student from Mexico City. Your name is Valeria Ramirez from now on. Understood?"

"Why not change my first name?"

"Normally I'd agree," Jada said, "but for your first alter-ego, it might be easier to keep the same first name. I changed mine, Frank didn't."

"It's my way of mocking them," Frank said with a laugh. "I am Frank Malone and Frank Pipino, expert police officer and master thief at the same time."

"I guess I can understand that," Valeria replied. "What's the next rule?"

Jada narrowed her eyes, her intense gaze piercing through her. "You must maintain your alter ego at all times. You can never tell a non-Rogue who you really are. No matter what."

"Okay. Anything else?"

Jada leaned closer. "There are some more personal rules we would like you to follow. No hard drugs, and no boyfriends for the first few weeks."

Valeria rolled her eyes. She had no issue with the drug policy, but the boyfriend one irked her. She had encounters with boys before, but nothing long term. Even so - who were they to dictate the terms of her social life? The rule might ensure her focus on Rogue training, but it still felt restrictive. She felt the urge to protest this, but ultimately decided it wasn't a deal breaker.

"Curfew is at eleven," Jada added. "If you break it, you'll be punished."

"We'll be angrier if you don't tell us where you are," Frank said. "If you're going to be late, let us know. The punishment will be lighter."

"Okay," Valeria said. "Sounds fair. Anything else?"

Frank looked over at Jada, but she didn't have anything else to add. "That's pretty much it. Other than those rules, you're free to do what you want."

"What about my training as a Rogue? When does that start?"

"Let's see you survive a week in school first," Jada countered. "We will begin your training after that."

Valeria groaned with disapproval. Part of it was impatience; the desire to unlock her powers as a Rogue was undeniable. But part of her was anxious. Despite her performance in the Hall of Shadows, Valeria still had doubts. Would she succeed at Rogue training? Would she live up to their expectations? The idea of waiting a week to find out was unbearable. "Do I really have to go to school? Can't I start training and find a job?"

"Absolutely not," Jada replied, her tone absolute. "Every child trained in the Thieves guild attends school. We want you to blend in with other children, and sharpen your mind."

Frank nodded. "While your stealth can grant extraordinary abilities, it's still not a Rogue's most valuable tool."

He pointed to his head, and Valeria crossed her arms against her chest. She knew another lecture was on its way.

"That's right," Frank continued. "It's our minds. Using our brains to outsmart an opponent is a Rogue's best tool, and no offense kiddo, yours could use a tune up."

"If you really struggle with school in the beginning, we'll help you," Jada added, "but we expect you to become independent. Understood?"

"I do. I'll try my best."

Frank shook his head. "Losers rant about their best. Winners promise to make things happen."

"You think I'm a winner?"

"I know you are," he replied, his tone cheerful. "You just need to believe it too."

She smiled back and said, "Alright, I won't let you down."

"I know you won't kiddo. Have fun shopping today." He turned to his wife and kissed her cheek. "I'm off to get groceries and school supplies. Did you need anything else?"

She considered this a moment. "Maybe a daily planner, or some kind of personal calendar?"

"I'll get you one. Alright ladies, have a good day."