Isabel stared at her brother. She recognized the expression on his face-he had made up his mind.

Slowly she sank down on the arm of his chair. She had to find a way to make him really hear her. She had to convince him he was about to do something that could destroy them all.

"Max, we're not living in Disneyland, okay?" she said quietly. "We aren't living in a happy, perfect place. It would be nice if we were, but we're just not. You can't trust everyone. It's not safe."

Max shook his head. "I'm not talking about everyone. I'm talking about Liz."

"Liz and probably Maria," Isabel reminded him. "You think you know them, but there is no way you can possibly know how they'll react when you tell them you're-not the same as them. They might look at you and see something totally repulsive and scary."

Max didn't answer. Isabel could see that he wasn't convinced.

She stood up and began to pace. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe they should just take off. They weren't safe now that two humans were so close to learning their secret.

"You're the one who made the rule, Max. You made us all swear we would never, tell anyone, remember?" Michael asked.

Isabel could hear the strain in his voice. He sounded almost as scared as she felt.

"And you were right," Michael continued, "because there are humans out there who would track us down and kill us if they found out we exist."

Isabel heard a car pull into the driveway

She spun to face Max. "It's happening," she spat at him. "Valenti's coming after us already. What are we going to do?"

Max sprang out of the recliner and rushed down the front hall. He took a quick look out the thin window next to the door. "Its not Valenti, it's Liz," he told Isabel and Michael.

Isabel slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. Max felt a pang of worry-he'd never seen his little sister so hysterical before. But he didn't have time to deal with her now. He had to concentrate on Liz.

He swung open the door before Liz rang the bell. She jumped in surprise but quickly recovered. She stared him straight in the eye. "You said you'd explain everything later. It's later." Liz crossed her arms and kept looking at him. Obviously she wasn't leaving until she'd gotten an explanation.

Max sighed. He knew Isabel and Michael were probably ready to assassinate him, but what else could he do? Liz must be more freaked out than all of them-she'd almost died.

"Come in," he told her, ignoring Isabel's groan. "Let's go into my room. Michael and Isabel were about to… watch a video."

Michael and Isabel didn't say anything to back Max up. They didn't say anything at all. They just stared at Liz. If they could, they would be shooting death rays out of their eyes right now, he thought. Lucky for Liz, that was one power they didn't have.

Max led the way into his room and closed the door.

"Uh, sit down. Do you want something to drink or anything?" Max grabbed an armful of dirty clothes off the floor and hurled them into his closet. "We have soda, and juice, and these power drink things Isabel likes, and probably some other stuff."

"No, I'm okay." Liz sat down on the bed.

Max started to sit next to her, then changed his mind and leaned against his dresser. He'd fantasized about having Liz Ortecho in his bedroom, playing out every possible variation. But he'd never imagined a situation like this.

"So," Liz said. She fiddled with the braided silver bracelet on her wrist.

"So," Max repeated.

Liz's aura had grown lighter. But it hadn't returned to its usual warm, rich amber. It was a sickly yellow. What is it going to look like after I tell her the truth about me? he thought. Is Isabel right-will Liz see me as some repulsive mutant creature?

If she did, who cared about the rest? Who cared if he was captured and experimented on? Nothing could be worse than Liz looking at him and seeing something hideous, something to be feared.

Max knew he had to say something soon but didn't know how to begin.

Liz twisted her bracelet around and around. Man, she's got to be nervous enough without me standing here staring at her, Max thought.

"So, um, how are you feeling?" he asked.

How are you feeling. What a dorky thing to say, he thought.

"I'm still sort of shaky, I guess," Liz answered. "That's normal, right? I probably have all this adrenaline racing around in my body with nothing to do. Like I drank too much coffee-"

"Yeah," Max said. "When I was a kid, I almost got hit by a car. My heart didn't quit pounding for, like, an hour. I was riding my bike. I don't know how old I was, but I was still the age where clipping playing cards to the spokes was considered cool, so-"

"Max, let's just stop. We're both totally babbling," Liz interrupted. She took a deep breath, then continued. "I lied to everyone just like you asked me to. But I need to know what really happened."

"Okay. You're right. No more babbling. No babbling allowed from here out. No-"

"Max!"

"Okay, okay. But before I start-there's no chance I could get you to believe that ketchup bottle story, is there?" he asked.

Liz gave a short laugh. "I don't think so." She pulled her shirt out of her jeans.

What was she doing? Max's mouth went dry. He struggled to keep his expression neutral.

Liz slowly slid up the shirt, revealing the skin of her stomach. Max released his breath in a hiss when he saw the two shining silver handprints. His handprints.

"I didn't get these from a ketchup bottle," Liz said. She reached out and took one of his hands in hers. Max held completely still. What should he do? What did she want him to do?

Liz met his gaze for a long moment, then she drew Max's hand toward her stomach. She matched Max's hand to the silver print, carefully positioning each finger.

Can she feel me trembling? he thought. When he was healing her, Max had been totally focused on dissolving the bullet and closing the wound. But now… now he was hyperaware of the texture of Liz's skin, soft and smooth. So warm underneath his palm.

Max sat down next to Liz. She kept his hand pressed against her stomach. "You did this, Max," she said, her voice charged with emotion. "You saved my life. How?"

He slowly removed his hand. Liz dropped her shirt back down.

"I don't know how to start," he admitted.

"Just tell me. Whatever it is, just tell me," Liz said.

This is Liz, Max reminded himself. They had been in school together since the third grade. If Max had to pick one human to tell the truth about himself, he would choose Liz. She really cared about things, about people. So do it, he thought.

"You know I'm adopted, right?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." Liz waited.

"My parents, my real parents, are dead."

"Oh, God, Max. That's awful," Liz answered. "I didn't know. Do you remember much about them?"

Typical Liz. She'd already forgotten all about herself, about the questions she wanted answered. Now she was totally focused on him.

"I don't remember them at all. I wish I did," Max answered. "But I think… I think I inherited the power to heal, the power I used on you, from them."

Liz started to respond, but Max rushed on. If he didn't keep going, he was afraid he'd never get it out.

"My parents died in the Roswell crash. They… they weren't human. And neither am I. That's why I can do things like, you know, heal. With my hands."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Liz inched away from Max on the bed. When she finally spoke, her voice sounded way too calm.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she said, not meeting Max's eyes. "Should I start with the fact that the UFO crash supposedly happened more than fifty years ago-and you're only a senior in high school? So your parents have been dead longer than you've been alive?"