The entity living inside Callan's soul orphaned her at age eleven. By the time she's sixteen, it's ensured her being shunted from one foster family to another.
Her thirteenth foster assignment should be routine. Except... it's not. A psycho in medie...
"Yes." Rhea uncurled her body and stood. She went to the platters and served fish and bread onto two shiny white plates before returning. "Hungry?" She offered the food to him.
He shook his head. "I already ate, thanks."
"Try it. You ate a while ago."
It didn't feel like a while. He took the plate. "How long was I out?"
She sat down and set her plate on her lap beforebreaking off a piece of bread. "A while."
James fought the urge to gnash his teeth and focused on his food. After a second's hesitation, he took a piece of fish between his fingers and stuffed it into his mouth. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his stomach thanked him. He scarfed the rest. When he looked up, their eyes met. For a second she seemed to search his soul, but she gave up and turned her face to the darkness above again.
"Why do you keep doing that?" he asked, peeking up at the ominous ceiling.
"Because it has all the answers," she answered without changing her position.
He focused on his plate. "It?"
"The Window of Knowledge."
"The what?" he asked, venturing a glance at her.
Her mouth skewed. "Didn't we already have this conversation?"
"Um... No?"
She pushed out a heavy sigh and returned her attention to her plate. "The Window of Knowledge. It shows me answers."
"Answers to what?"
She picked up a hunk of bread and turned it over and over. Her dainty fingers dug into the soft surface as they worked. "To everything."
"Really?"
"Well. Almost everything... I'm about as omniscient as someone could get."
Seeing everything couldn't be all that good. Now that he paid attention, sadness seemed to edge every word, every look, and every action. "But how? I didn't see anything up there."
"You're not looking for long enough." She smiled slightly, as if trying to hide her amusement with him.
"Oh." He helped himself to a second plate of food. "So if I stare at it..."
"You'll see something about yourself."
"Like?" He glanced up again.
"Perhaps you will see your future. Or your present." She took a moment to measure him. "Or your past."
He turned his head down. "Which one?"
"There's only one way to know. By looking."
"But you can see anything about anything or anyone?"
She put her plate down, the food mostly untouched. "Yes, but I can neither control what I see nor have I the ability to know when something occurred. Or if it's occurring. Or if it will occur. I also have perpetual trouble with finding the right tense for verbs." Her solemn face mixed with the last complaint made it hard for James not to laugh. "All this means I sometimes feel like I know people I've yet to meet. Or I re-experience things that happened long ago... I have no way of knowing which is which."
Well, that explained the weirdness at least. "Not good," he said, trying to keep his mirth hidden.
She giggled and gave his shoulder a little poke. "It hardly matters. I never involve myself in the events that unfold. When I do, I rarely have an effect on them."
James smiled. "How do you know if you don't try?"
"It doesn't matter." Her emotions drained from her face until it resembled a life-like porcelain mask.
Creepy. James searched for a safer subject. "What do you need me for?"
"You'll have to wait and see."
"If you're still waiting for Phipps, you'll wait for a long time."
"He's on his way."
"Now?"
"Soon."
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