Chapter 31
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
I normally don’t mind group review block, but today’s is rife with dread. It’s not a formal evaluation, but Doctor Carr is here, trailed by a team of scalpel-ready specialists who look eager to do more than just observe.
Mister M is running us through the movement sequences. He doesn’t bother taking notes, not unless we make a mistake. V is here too, presumably to monitor me. He lingers near the door, arms folded, face passive. A spectator, nothing more.
I’m halfway through movement sequence ten when I lose the rhythm.
A stutter in my footwork. Not catastrophic, but obvious.
Enough to draw eyes, enough to ruin the performance.
I hold still for half a second, concentrating on nothing but my shallow breathing.
I wait for the override, for the quiet voice that always cuts in when I mess up. When things “glitch.”
I wait for him.
But V doesn’t move. His eyes flick to mine briefly; his thumb brushes along his cuff in a gentle cue. Breath reset. Then it’s gone. His head dips, studying the floor.
“How embarrassing.” Mister M scoffs, flashing me a sick grin.
I suck in a breath, in for four, out for eight, just like V taught me.
It centers me, but heat still prickles my skin like a simmering flame.
I finish the sequence, slower now. My pulse pounds in my ears, so loud I can’t hear the rhythm, but I keep my chin up.
Carr regards me with a cold stare. “Noted.” My cuff pulses hard against my wrist, flashing orange. Mister M ignores me, snapping an order to start another drill.
V never speaks. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the ground for the rest of the session.
Catastrophic mistakes face-planted into: one.
Meanwhile, I complete every other sequence, hitting every mark with my head held high. It won’t matter, though. No one remembers when I succeed.
Only when I fail.