hand.
Victor arched an eyebrow. 'You caught them, didn't you? And yes, working with me. That's benefit enough.'
Evie grunted in reply and started slicing into the first box.
'You have natural instincts, Evie. We'll improve them, yes, but you're a natural. Let me hazard a guess - state athletics champion? Dropped out of cheerleading at fourteen?'
He was hazarding a guess? She narrowed her eyes at him. How did he know all this?
'Too bitchy?' he continued. 'Too competitive? Or just too easy? You excelled in track but also ball games. Your reflexes are top of the range, your hand/eye co-ordination unparalleled. My guess is you found it all pointless but that you're not naturally competitive when it comes to games anyway. In things that you don't think are important.'
She could feel her face flaming but Victor seemed to be enjoying his little game of psychoanalysis. He tipped his head to one side, studying her with interest. 'You weren't interested in the medals or the glory because it was no competition for you. Other things interested you more.'
She glared at him. How did he know this? Even she wouldn't have been able to put this into words. She'd cheerleaded until the point had come where she'd wanted to shove the pompoms up the cheerleading coach's butt. And she had always been fast. She had been state running champion until last summer when her dad had died. Then she'd decided the only running that mattered was the running away kind. There was irony in that, she saw now.
Victor carried on, oblivious to her stare and dropped jaw. 'You're bright - brighter than your classmates - but you hide it because you don't want to appear different but you are and you've always felt that way, haven't you? An outsider? Like you didn't quite belong. And now,' he said as an aside, 'now you know why. But before, before you didn't want to appear ungrateful to your parents or those around you by acting like you wanted to leave. You didn't want to disappoint your parents by making them think this life - this town - wasn't good enough. After everything they've done for you. You didn't even go looking for your birth parents. I found that surprising.'
Evie felt the pinprick of tears behind her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no way she was crying in front of him. She kept her head down, her fingers gripping the scissors, stopping herself from hurling them at him to stop him from talking. The last six months she'd suffered an intrusion into her privacy, but this was an intrusion into her soul. This was all her most private, unspoken secrets and fears laid out on a mortuary slab and dissected with clinical detachment.
'How do you know all this?' she asked under her breath.
'We've been watching you, Evie. You didn't think we'd leave you here as a baby and forget all about you, did you?' He looked at her in wide-eyed bemusement. 'We were waiting until we felt you were old enough - ready - before we broke it to you.'
She chewed her lip. It was too much to comprehend that her whole life had been a science study. Strangers had been watching her. It made her feel a little unreal, as though she had just discovered she was a character in a film, that everyone in her life was just an actor, all in on a joke she was the butt of.
'So,' she smarted, finally looking up and trying to act like his words had meant nothing, even though her head was a spinning teacup ride, 'you've been spying on me and now you think you know me because you once read a book on pop psychology. Great. Shall I get on with opening the boxes?'
Victor seemed merely amused with her little outburst. He nodded at her to go ahead. He was observing her every reaction, she thought, as she bent down, feeling his eyes burning into the back of her head. He was weighing her up. But so far he didn't seem disappointed and she realised with a pang that a part of her was glad. Then she got angry with herself. Why did she care about pleasing him?
She ripped open the first
Victor arched an eyebrow. 'You caught them, didn't you? And yes, working with me. That's benefit enough.'
Evie grunted in reply and started slicing into the first box.
'You have natural instincts, Evie. We'll improve them, yes, but you're a natural. Let me hazard a guess - state athletics champion? Dropped out of cheerleading at fourteen?'
He was hazarding a guess? She narrowed her eyes at him. How did he know all this?
'Too bitchy?' he continued. 'Too competitive? Or just too easy? You excelled in track but also ball games. Your reflexes are top of the range, your hand/eye co-ordination unparalleled. My guess is you found it all pointless but that you're not naturally competitive when it comes to games anyway. In things that you don't think are important.'
She could feel her face flaming but Victor seemed to be enjoying his little game of psychoanalysis. He tipped his head to one side, studying her with interest. 'You weren't interested in the medals or the glory because it was no competition for you. Other things interested you more.'
She glared at him. How did he know this? Even she wouldn't have been able to put this into words. She'd cheerleaded until the point had come where she'd wanted to shove the pompoms up the cheerleading coach's butt. And she had always been fast. She had been state running champion until last summer when her dad had died. Then she'd decided the only running that mattered was the running away kind. There was irony in that, she saw now.
Victor carried on, oblivious to her stare and dropped jaw. 'You're bright - brighter than your classmates - but you hide it because you don't want to appear different but you are and you've always felt that way, haven't you? An outsider? Like you didn't quite belong. And now,' he said as an aside, 'now you know why. But before, before you didn't want to appear ungrateful to your parents or those around you by acting like you wanted to leave. You didn't want to disappoint your parents by making them think this life - this town - wasn't good enough. After everything they've done for you. You didn't even go looking for your birth parents. I found that surprising.'
Evie felt the pinprick of tears behind her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no way she was crying in front of him. She kept her head down, her fingers gripping the scissors, stopping herself from hurling them at him to stop him from talking. The last six months she'd suffered an intrusion into her privacy, but this was an intrusion into her soul. This was all her most private, unspoken secrets and fears laid out on a mortuary slab and dissected with clinical detachment.
'How do you know all this?' she asked under her breath.
'We've been watching you, Evie. You didn't think we'd leave you here as a baby and forget all about you, did you?' He looked at her in wide-eyed bemusement. 'We were waiting until we felt you were old enough - ready - before we broke it to you.'
She chewed her lip. It was too much to comprehend that her whole life had been a science study. Strangers had been watching her. It made her feel a little unreal, as though she had just discovered she was a character in a film, that everyone in her life was just an actor, all in on a joke she was the butt of.
'So,' she smarted, finally looking up and trying to act like his words had meant nothing, even though her head was a spinning teacup ride, 'you've been spying on me and now you think you know me because you once read a book on pop psychology. Great. Shall I get on with opening the boxes?'
Victor seemed merely amused with her little outburst. He nodded at her to go ahead. He was observing her every reaction, she thought, as she bent down, feeling his eyes burning into the back of her head. He was weighing her up. But so far he didn't seem disappointed and she realised with a pang that a part of her was glad. Then she got angry with herself. Why did she care about pleasing him?
She ripped open the first
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