Laura is sitting, cross-legged and quiet, on the bed in her room. Her back is slouched, and she is staring into her open, half-packed duffel. It is hard to describe the look on her face; most would call it blank, expressionless, and leave it at that. But there is some sadness around her lips, and her gaze is unseeing.

But she's not daydreaming. She is thinking, absolutely, inhumanly still. She is thinking about why she is packing. Where she is going. She has two choices: London, with her family, her friends, her teammates.

Or she can leave. Grab the strap to her bag, sling it over her shoulder, and slip out the window. Logan will expect it. He might try to stop her. But Laura calculates the odds in her favor. She is fast.

She has put everyone in danger. Emma Frost is right. She doesn't belong here.