At least, frustration was what I meant to send. But when I opened myself up, everything else I was feeling went pouring through without my volition: my soul-deep need to belong somewhere, my terror that if I didn’t make myself useful I’d be cast aside, my nearly frantic desire to be more than what I’d been, to be as competent and able as Dor. Ian staggered back a step, eyes wide. “That’s what’s going on inside your head?” He sounded shell-shocked, sort of like I felt. “That’s — completely — that fucking sucks.”
