Isabelle

“Who are you?” Aaron demanded roughly. TK didn’t speak. “Why did you help my son?” Nothing. “Where did you come from? Did you know my wife? I—” His chest hitched as his voice broke. “You helped Nicky. I saw it. You’re telekinetic. Like him. Like she was. How did you—” “Aaron,” TK said, voice heavily modulated. And just like that, Aaron knew. He knew. He sank to his knees there on the roof as TK bowed his head. TK’s hands went to his helmet, and he lifted it off slowly. Not he. She.”
― T.J. Klune, Flash Fire