Don’t go making all of it into some kinda weird—”“You’re doing that thing you do every time when you fib, Emmie.”“Yeah? Thing, what thin...?”“Your mouth moves, and all these words come out.”“Ha-hah, very funny. Why don’t—”“This is a good chance for you, Emily. Things can work out. But you don’t need this stuff, it’s garbage. You’re so much better than that.”“No, I’m not,” Emily realized, aghast to find that her eyes were stinging with shame and disappointment. “No, I’m not—”“Sshh-sh-sh-shhh,”. “Lissa, take Sam over to the couch and make him comfortable until I get back.”“Let’s go have a seat, meaty britches,” Lissa stated quietly in a multi harmonic voice as she gestured toward the couch on the back wall. It was like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Sam followed the directions quietly and sat down with Lissa to his immediate right on the large leather couch. It could not have worked out any better for Jack as he continued typing in commands. With the success he had seen so far. More

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