Troubles

I could only stared Sister Magret, I had never even considered that gang members would scout for capes at a local food charity, but in hindsight it made perfect sense. If what I had read about trigger events on PHO was correct, most Parahumans had less than ideal home lives, quite a number of them could even be homeless. I realized that I am one of those capes but I never considered the implications. All parahumans, Heroes and Villains alike, had been larger than live figures, still where something other, something different from us common mortals, but it is unlikely that I am the only one who has a power unsuited to heroics, villainy or any other way to make money of.

Even if they did, if the laws where as strictly enforced as Sister Magret implied, then there was a good chance that quite a lot of Capes had to rely or supplement their diet at charities. And Gangs would subsequently keep an eye on those and look out for anything suspicious.

My selfish actions might lead to not only my name and face being known to any number of seedy elements of the city, even worse, I had brought danger to those angelic nuns who only sought to help. I didn't deserve to be my mothers daughter. I didn't deserve any of it.

I had brought death to those innocent of any crime and for what, to fulfill my utterly selfish needs to cook and clean. I should have just stayed home, not like anyone cared and if wasting away was all I was good fore, I could have at least done that in private so that no-one would be bothered by my rotting corps. At least Emma would have been happy to find me dead, no more useless baggage, no dirt on her shiny new shoes.

"Taylor"

Why should I be happy, I had only brought misery and death. My life wasn't worth anything and at least my death would end this suffering. Tears pricked my eyes. Why couldn't I have a knife instead of that stupid book, I could end …

Something touched my arm.

"Taylor". Sister Magret had let her seat and walked around the table to stand beside me. "Are you doing alright girl. You just wilted in front of me." Wilted, like there was anything alive inside me that had the capacity to lose anything.

"Taylor, your eyes have changed color."

What, my eyes, they where beautiful just like a warm hearth.

And just like that the darkness vanished from my thoughts. No not vanished, just receded far enough to allow me to think past it. I must have become Taylor again, Taylor couldn't deal with criticism, she, I wasn't ready to deal with all of this.

As Snow I could endure and so I let my eyes wander to Sister Magret's face and was astounded by the compassion I could see in her eyes. I should have known that a Nun who ran a charity to feed the homeless and hungry, someone who would offer a lost soul like me a place at her hearth, would show compassion, even for those like me who did not deserve it.

"Taylor. I did not tell you those things to blame you. You where obviously unaware of the situation and while there is a possibility that you have brought some unfriendly attention, nothing has happened so far. I told you, because you are in danger. This church has seen much over the years and even the threat of the Teeth could not stop us from doing Gods work. It was my intention so see to your safety and ensure that no-one would get harmed. "

She gave me one of those warm hugs, only mothers could give and I realized that being a Nun was much more than just following the Bible and honoring God. It was a lifestyle of self sacrifice and compassion for those around you, even those unfaithful and stained by the world would be welcome in the sanctuary of this place. Those unshed tears finally fell and I cried, not the ugly, snotty kind of crying, Snow wasn't capable of doing that. No it was the kind of crying, that would have gained awards in movie award shows. Sister Magret didn't say anything more and just held me.

A few minutes later, when I had finally composed myself, Sister Magret asked me about my cooking powers and I told her all about my coking at home and that there had been no apparent effects to my cooking. She seemed upset when I told her about my Dad not accepting my offerings of food, which had probably more to do with how much that said about my life at home and less with the fact that no-one else had tried my cooking before today.

She told me that my eggs had been received even better than I had heard before and I was kind of torn between the joy of bringing happiness to others with my cooking and a growing sense of thread, because I had garnered even more attention than in my worst fears. In the end Sister Magret told me to take a break for a few days and lay low at home while she made sure nothing about my presence in the kitchen that day would reach outside the church.

After that we ate my casserole with the rest of the kitchen staff and apparently my cooking was phenomenal. Everyone agreed that I had a gift and that it would be a shame if I couldn't make use of my talent. Nobody asked how I had gained said talent at such a young age, but while their behavior towards me didn't change much, it did not escape my notice that the Nuns had started to pay more attention to me. A benevolent kind of surveillance, but surveillance nevertheless.