Whoa, Fitz transmitted. The voices feel like knives.
I know, Sophie thought, fighting to shut down the memory. Her mind seemed determined to relive every second.
I knew it had to be scary, manifesting so young, Fitz said, but I never realized it was like that.
Fitz’s hands were shaking now, sharing five-year-old Sophie’s terror as she’d screamed and thrashed, begging someone to make the voices stop. The doctors hovered around her, sticking her with needles, checking equipment.
How long was it like this before you figured it out? Fitz asked.
The doctors gave her another sedative, Mr. Forkle told them, and while she was out I was able to plant the truth in her mind so she’d understand I’d tried to do that before, but hadn’t been able to reach her while the ability was still manifesting.
That makes sense, Sophie thought. I remember somehow knowing that I was hearing thoughts. Also that I couldn’t ever tell anyone. I’d never felt so alone.
I’m sorry, Mr. Forkle said.
“Uh, are you guys okay?” Keefe asked. “Foster’s emotions are spiking all over the place, and Fitz feels . . . weird.”
“I’m fine,” Sophie promised, shaking her head to clear it. She turned to Mr. Forkle. “But I still can’t see the boy’s face, or how you triggered my telepathy.”
“You were unconscious for the telepathy triggering. And the boy’s face is blurry because he was wearing an addler. It’s a gadget that makes it impossible for your eyes to focus on the wearer’s face. They were very popular during the Human Assistance Program, since humans forget anyone they cannot recognize.”
“Why would the boy have one?” Sophie asked. “And who was he? Why was he there?”
“Those are the questions I’ve been trying to answer for the last eight years. Obviously he’s with the Neverseen, but I have no idea how he found you, or why he didn’t seem to realize what you truly were. I’m glad he didn’t, because I wasn’t watching you as closely back then. I hadn’t even known you were outside until I heard the neighbor girl shouting that you’d fallen. I ran out to check and found you bleeding and unconscious. When I probed your recent memories, I realized you’d seen an elf and I was tempted to grab you and flee. But there were too many people watching. Plus, the boy had disappeared, and I hoped that meant he’d crossed you off whatever list he was working from. Still, I decided to move up your timeline just in case. I called 9-1-1 and triggered your telepathy, knowing the head injury would be an excuse to help your mind accept the new ability. I also altered your memory to be sure you’d forget the boy. And then I never let you out of my sight again.”
“If you erased the memory that quickly,” Keefe asked, “how did Foster write about the boy in her journal?”
“I merely hid the memory at first. I was trying to avoid interfering any more than I had to. But the memory kept resurfacing. Sophie’s mind had latched on to the moment to try to understand it. When I caught her writing in her journal, I knew I had to be more drastic. That night I washed the moment completely and tore the page out of her journal.”
“So you did sneak into my room while I slept?” Sophie asked, feeling especially squirmy when he nodded.
“My job was far from easy, Miss Foster. I had to ready your abilities, keep you safe, and still have you believe you were a regular human girl.”
“You failed pretty epically at the last one,” Sophie mumbled. “If you’d wanted me to feel normal, maybe you shouldn’t have made me read minds—or at least taught me how to block the thoughts I didn’t want to hear.”
“Believe me, I tried. Certain skills need conscious training, and I couldn’t reveal the truth to you yet. So every night I searched your memories and helped your mind set aside anything too upsetting. I also tried to help with your headaches—don’t you remember how I was always asking about them? I even gave your mother remedies to try, but I doubt she gave them to you. She wasn’t a fan of medicine. She made it clear at her first fertility appointment that she was only there as a last resort. It was one of the reasons I selected her. So many human remedies do more harm than good, and I had to ensure you wouldn’t be subjected to them constantly. The few times you went to the doctor, I had to monitor what they gave you and then find ways to undo the damage. I also had to change your records to ensure you looked human on paper—and your hospital stays were even worse. So many files to erase and treatments to adjust. You have no idea what a nightmare it was.”
“I might, if you gave me back my other missing memory,” Sophie reminded him.
“Nice try.”
“But it’s not like this memory even taught me anything,” Sophie argued. “I still don’t know who the boy is.”
“Perhaps that will convince you we are not withholding crucial secrets,” Granite said.