Wanda brushed absently at her bare arm, the feeling that something had fallen across it distracting her. A spiderweb? A hair? Some kind of touch she couldn't identify. But she forget it as she sat down on the couch and listened to Mika. The shiver that passed along her spine was entirely due to Mika's words, and her knowledge that they were entirely true. Children and death was a sore subject with her, and discovering a body of a friend...it sounded harrowing. "You must have been very young," she said, keeping her voice level. "I am so sorry."
She shifted, and glanced at the box again. "I came into possession of this box in a den of thieves," Wanda explained, sympathy making her admit that her title might not be airtight.
She had an uneasy, irrational feeling that the box was sliding across the coffee table toward Mika whenever she glanced away. It was so strong that she reached out with a tiny tendril of power, virtually invisible, just enough to keep it under her touch -- but in the instant of contact, the feeling that something was going on here intensified. The air seemed electric, and she could see ghostly shapes in the air above the box.
"Are you doing something?" Wanda asked, trying to remain calm. Then, as the vision engulfed her, sudden motion, something bright, though only for a second, she asked far more sharply, "What are you doing?"
She shook her head, and Mika came clear again. With her powers she could sense that nothing was actually moving. Nothing had been moving. Focus, she told herself, but it reminded her of when she had no control over her powers.