How to Lead a Life of Crime by Kirsten Miller Page B

restraint by walking away. But Ivan should recover quickly, and when he does, he’ll want his revenge.”
    “That’s what I’m counting on. Ivan is my only competition. The next three weeks would be a real bore without him.”
    “What a fascinating young man you are,” Mandel says. I have no clue if he’s satisfied with the explanation I’ve given him. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you do next.”
    “Thank you, sir,” I respond. “I hope it will be entertaining.”
    This morning, there were a hundred questions I was eager to ask him. I’m finally learning to keep my mouth shut.

CHAPTER NINE
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    PRODIGY
    I ’m deep underground, in a cell with no windows—just a locked door without a knob. This is where I was brought yesterday after my session with the academy’s groomers. They trimmed my hair, filed my nails, and seemed disappointed that there wasn’t more work to be done.
    My temporary quarters in the Incubation Suites are furnished with a bed, a bureau, and a rack of expensive clothing. It seemed perfectly comfortable at first, until I realized there’s no desk. No books. Not even an alarm clock. A small bathroom with no door is off to one side. Toiletries have been provided. Nothing dangerous or poisonous. No bottles made out of glass. They’ve even given me an electric razor. I wasn’t aware that anyone still used them.
    There’s no way to hide from yourself in this place. The far wall of my cell features a wide, full-length mirror. Last night, while exploring my cage, I discovered that I could see my own reflection from every corner of the room. That’s when I began to suspect that I wasn’t alone. I rapped on the mirror, and the hollow sound confirmed that it wasn’t fixed to a solid wall. I waved at whoever was watching on the other side. And when dinner was delivered on a tray to my door, my reflection and I sat on the floor and shared the meal with my unseen guests. A bell rang shortly after the tray was taken away. I didn’t realize its purpose until the lights shut off a few minutes later.
    The room was so dark that I could have slept with my eyes open. And yet I could still feel them watching. Fortunately, Peter Pan made good on his promise. He didn’t visit me during the night. Maybe he tried and couldn’t find a way in. But I know he hasn’t forgotten me because he sent me a dream.
    I saw myself sitting on the steps outside the public pool in Hamilton Fish Park. It was a warm morning at the beginning of May, and I was desperate for a dip, but the pool was still closed for the season. Weeks had passed since I’d last been truly clean. I washed up in restrooms whenever I had the chance, but there are parts that need more than a wipe with a damp paper towel. And you can’t pick pockets if your marks smell you coming a mile away.
    I heard sandals slapping the sidewalk and spotted a girl walking toward me. I’m not sure what caught my eye first. The wild black hair that floated behind her—or the long, lean body clad in an ankle-sweeping sundress. When the breeze pinned the fabric to her body, she might as well have been naked. She wasn’t beautiful. At least not in the model prom-queen pageant-winner way. She was absolutely magnificent.
    “The pool doesn’t open till Memorial Day,” the girl stopped to inform me. I’d seen her before. She lived somewhere in the neighborhood, but I didn’t think she’d noticed me. My grubbiness rendered me invisible to almost everyone.
    I checked over my shoulder, just to make sure I was the only person around.
    “Why don’t you come with me,” she said.
    “Where?” I asked, and instantly regretted it. It didn’t really matter where.
    “You’ll see.”
    We walked side by side without saying a word. Most females get fidgety when no one’s talking. This girl seemed perfectly comfortable with the silence. We cut across Tompkins Square Park and turned left on Tenth Street. I kept inching closer to catch the scent she was trailing.