Henrietta blushed and looked self-conscious as Timothy asked his question. She coughed and answered, not meeting Timothy's eyes. "About that, um, so far, my mind reading doesn't really have a limit to how far it can extend. I can turn it on and off and I can focus on a particular person if I want to, but for the most part, no one is really able to - um - escape."

Henrietta peered sheepishly at Poppy and Timothy. "If it helps, I don't really read anyone's minds at night. The teenage thoughts of hormone ridden boys and girls during aren't exactly the kind of the you want to be seeing."

---

The limbs disappeared back into the scarf, vanishing like it was never there. Several older students snickered; they knew what was coming next. 

"Haaah~ That's so much better," called the voice from earlier . . . from underneath Thisa's skirt. A hand lifted the hem slightly and a short, young man crawled out from underneath. "Thanks for standing Miss! The shadows from skirts are so much easier to exit from!"

The young man had spiky black hair, and an impish face that shone with a child's playfulness; his eyes were brilliant green. He wore a long brown trench coat, jeans and finger-less gloves. He was kneeling down and grinning at Harold and Thisa ear-to-ear. 

Say hello to Michael Rezzo, "Night Stalker"