“Bad behavior,” I suggested, frowning.
“Hm…” said Paige, “Such as, oh I don’t know, getting bad grades, almost killing their parents with worry, and being rude by listening to music constantly?”
“And annoying people out of their minds,” I countered.
She grinned, “Right. I guess we’ll be able to have a wicked fire after this, eh?”
I watched her for a moment and suddenly noticed how tired she looked.
“Look,” I said slowly, “Maybe I should go. I’ll read a book or something to keep me awake. You look pretty worn out.”
I left before she could protest, an unfathomable look in her eyes.

She didn’t look any better that morning. We were sitting in the living room, pre-opening stage. Mom left to go make some Ginkgo, and Paige was talking to Rendor. I surreptitiously got up and followed Mom to the kitchen.
“Mom?” I asked hesitently.
“Yes, honey?” she asked.
“Does Paige… does Paige look ok to you?” I asked, suddenly oddly nervous.
Mom eyed me curiously, “She looks the same as always to me, honey. Why?”