“Oh, there’s lots to learn,” Fiona replied. “There’s administrative work, and the dietary rules,
and punishment for disobedience—did you know that they use a discipline wand on the Old, the same as for small children?
And there’s occupational therapy, and recreational activities, and medications, and—”
They reached the building and braked their bikes. “I really think I’ll like it better than school,” Fiona confessed.
“Me too,” Jonas agreed, wheeling his bike into its place. She waited for a second, as if, again, she expected him to go on.
Then she looked at her watch, waved, and hurried toward the entrance. Jonas stood for a moment beside his bike, startled.
It had happened again: the thing that he thought of now as “seeing beyond.”
This time it had been Fiona who had undergone that fleeting indescribable change.
As he looked up and toward her going through the door, it happened; she changed.
Actually, Jonas thought, trying to recreate it in his mind, it wasn’t Fiona in her entirety.
It seemed to be just her hair. And just for that flickering instant. He ran through it in his mind.
It was clearly beginning to happen more often. First, the apple a few weeks before.
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