taken her temperature and blood pressure the last time. It had helped to pass the time, she supposed. But now she peered at the blonde and ran through the names and circumstances Leonora had given her and guessed, “Stephanie?”
Nodding, the blonde moved around the counter into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door to peer in at the contents. “Magnus is fine. He needed a few things and wanted time to think. He’ll be back.”
“Oh,” Allie murmured. She didn’t bother to ask how the girl had known what she was worrying about. Everyone here could read her mind. Except for the kids, of course.
“So far.”
“What?” Allie asked uncertainly.
“I said, so far. So far, the kids can’t read and control you,” she explained, retrieving juice from the fridge and pouring herself a glass. “That will change in another year or so.”
“So I gather,” Allie said unhappily, her mind turning to that worry. She kept a lot from Liam. She didn’t want him living in fear, so she kept their troubles to herself. He had no idea why they had to move so often. But she wouldn’t be able to keep it from him once he could read her mind.
Stephanie snorted, drawing Allie’s attention back to the young woman as she put the juice away and picked up her glass. “That’s the least of your worries.”
“Is it?” Allie asked warily.
Stephanie nodded and said solemnly, “You should be more concerned about when he starts being able to control you.”
“Liam?” Allie asked, her eyes widening, and then she shook her head. “He wouldn’t—”
“He’s a child,” Stephanie said with a shrug. “They make bad choices all the time. It’s why they need parents.”
“And he has one. Me,” Allie said firmly. “I’ll teach him that it’s wrong to control people and read their minds.”
“You can’t teach him it’s wrong to read minds,” Stephanie said firmly. “The nanos gave us that skill for a reason. Survival. He needs to know if the people he encounters are a threat.”
“But I’m not a threat. I’m his mother. He shouldn’t read me.”
“But he will,” she said with certainty. “And he’ll control you too. He won’t be able to help himself.”
Allie took a deep breath and shook her head. He wouldn’t. He loved her.
“Of course he loves you,” Stephanie said with amusement. “But that won’t stop him from . . .” She hesitated a moment, and then said, “Think about when you were a child. Your mother used to make cherry pie every Sunday.”
Allie blinked in surprise at the words. Leonora had mentioned that Stephanie had a “gift.” That where the others could only read the things you were thinking about, Stephanie seemed to be able to read everything in a person’s head. They were all open books to her, and this seemed proof to Allie. She hadn’t been thinking about it—in fact, she hadn’t thought about it for years—but her mother had made cherry pie every Sunday. To please her father. He’d loved cherry pie.
“And you loved it too,” Stephanie said as if she’d spoken aloud. “But you were never allowed more than one piece. Not even the next day if there was pie left, because it was your father’s. You and your sister each got one very small slice apiece on Sunday, but your father ate the rest over the next couple of days in front of you and you two weren’t allowed to have any more.”
Stephanie took a drink of juice before continuing. “Now, imagine you could have controlled your parents. Imagine you could have put it in their minds that you should be allowed another piece of that pie. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. Your father was getting a belly anyway, and it would probably be good if he cut back.” She arched one eyebrow. “Tell me you wouldn’t have controlled them and made sure you had a second piece of pie.”
Allie looked away from the young woman. She wished she could say she wouldn’t have, but she had really liked cherry pie.
“Or say your mother was making liver for dinner. You and your sister always hated liver. But they made you sit at the table until you ate every last bite of what was put on your plate, didn’t they?”
Allie nodded slowly and glanced back to her, amazed the woman could pull these things from her mind.
“Now, imagine you could have made your mother decide to make spaghetti for you and your sister instead. And you could put it in your father’s head that it was okay