~20~
Promise.” “I’m sure you will,” Dad said. He stood. “Come with me. Let’s have a drink while your mother gets dinner on the table.” I followed him into his study. In an age where most databases were digital, an impressive library of cloth and leather-bound books covered the shelves. This was where I got my love of literature. He motioned me to one of two leather-covered armchairs and doled out a couple of glasses of schnapps. “Okay, let’s have the truth. Who put the thumbscrews to you?” I choked on my schnapps. “Wha-what do you mean?” A vision of The Wall skewered my brain. How could he know—? “I don’t need your empathic talent to know what you told your mother and me is drek. You did not get chosen because you’re an expert speaker or because you’re a good student. This is mishegas. It makes no sense.” Mom and Dad were among the few people who knew about my empathic ability. I sensed the emotions of animals and my empathic connection allowed me to soothe stressed beasts. I also perceived human emotions—I sensed what I call auras, for lack of a better term. Rarely, powerful human emotions came through as a fleeting vision, but I was not a telepath. I did not read minds. I certainly couldn’t influence people in the way I could animals. Animals’ emotions caused both physical and psychological