I swallow. “No.”
“Are you close with your foster parents?”
“The last ones? The ones who tried to medicate me? Not really. I think I went to law school just to prove I didn’t need their help or anyone else’s.”
“Do you have any close friends? Anyone who knows you’re psychic?”
“Just Foxfire. At least, she’s the only one who believes me when I tell her what I’ve seen.”
“Anyone else?”
I shake my head. My chest hurts a little. “Why are you asking me these questions?”
“Now I know why you’re wound so tight, baby. Your gift makes you isolate from others. You have no one to watch your back.”
“It’s not a gift.” My throat clogs.
“And you don’t have anyone to share your secret with. No family. No pack,” he murmurs as if talking to himself.
The pain under my breastbone expands until I blink ba
