There came a sudden tapping at the hazy glass door.

"Who is it?" said Robert.

"Just me, Dad," said a familiar voice, "Is now a good time?"

"Sure, honey-bee, come in."

Abigail stepped into the office and cocked her head at the sight of me. She smiled, "Hey Burgess," she said, "Long time no see."

"Yeah," I said, "Almost a whole day."

Abigail gave a tiny giggle. Then gasped.

"Is that blood?" she said, dismayed.

"Just boys being boys," said Robert, "Did you need something, honey-bee?"

"Actually, Dad, I'm dying for an espresso. Mind if I…"

She gestured to the kitchenette.

"Sure, sure," said Robert, "Mi casa, su casa."

Abigail slipped off her shoes and put them off to one side before walking briskly to the kitchenette.

"Still with me, Burgess?" said Robert, with a knowing look. I tore my eyes away from Abigail and tried to give him my full attention, but with Abigail behind him fixing herself a coffee it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep my attention undivided. I shifted in my seat, positioning my view of Robert in such a way that his head obscured my view of Abigail.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

Robert patted me on the knee.

"It's okay, my boy, you've had a long day and even tougher journey. You must feel like everything right now is outside of your control?"

I nodded, "Yeah," I said, "Exactly."

"Mind if I share a little wisdom, Burgess?" said Robert.

He waited a moment and saw he had my full attention.

"In this life you have two paths to taking control of your life."

Robert raised a hand, showing two fingers.

"The first is humility. If you set in your mind that you deserve nothing, that you are nothing, in the grand scheme of things, then every day of your life you can be grateful for the little things which come your way; a cheese and tomato toastie, good company-"

"-an espresso," Abigail chimed in.

"Yes, dear, espressos too," said Robert.

He lowered one finger, leaving just his remaining index finger raised.

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"The second path is power," said Robert.

His eyes seemed to burn with an extra intensity as he said this.

"In this life power is everything," he said pointing at me, "You are powerless right now and of course you're feeling the frustration of that. But let me ask you this; when you showed that bully Tommy that you weren't no kindergarden, snot-nosed, twerp-of-a-pushover, how did you feel?"

"Calm, in control," I said, after considering the question, "And then I felt bad about it."

"Why did you feel bad, Burgess?" said Robert.

It was harder to get the words out now that I also knew Abigail was listening into the conversation. I spotted her again, she had made her espresso and was leaning against the counter sipping her coffee and watching our conversation. Again, with some effort, I put my attention back to Robert.

"Because I'm not the kind of person that enjoys fights or beating people up," I said.

"Very well," said Robert, "Then you're choosing the path of meekness, aren't you? Next time Tommy acts up you'll do well to put your head on the floor just nice so he can stomp on it."

My eyes narrowed.

"No," I said, "I'll just not take things so far next time."

"And how will you do that?" said Robert.

"I'll be more careful not to get carried away, I guess," I said.

Robert stood up from the couch and put his hands in his pockets. I felt as if I had let him down with my answer.

"I think we're done here for today," said Robert, "Thank you for your time, Burgess."

I rose from the couch. After a moment Robert turned to me and forced a smile. He offered me his hand to shake and I shook it. He had a firm grip. He patted me on the arm and showed me to the door.

"Just one last thing," said Robert, "A thought I'd like to leave you with."

Robert leaned in, speaking in a whisper.

"You're going to become extremely powerful, Burgess," he said, "More powerful than you can possibly imagine. When you come into that power what are you going to do with it? Which path are you going to take? I'm not looking for an answer right now, just really think about it, okay, my boy?"

I nodded. A whole range of different emotions were stirring in me.

"Talk later," said Robert.

"Later, Burgess," came Abigail's voice just before Robert closed the glass door behind me. There wasn't enough time for me to say goodbye back.

The Pied Piper officer took me back down to Level Three, going through the same checkpoint procedure once we were on the third floor. The officer didn't stay with me beyond the checkpoint. I continued onto the third floor finding the mood and commotion had died down a lot compared to how it had been when I had arrived with Tiffany, Blain, and Mikayla.

I made my way back to B-9. Once there I could see the other guys were already snoozing. It still felt early, but I was tired enough not to care. I spotted Tommy laying in his bunk with his head lent back and a bloody tissue held at his nose. He ignored me as I climbed up onto the top bunk.

For about thirty minutes I lay thinking about my conversation with Robert. The whole conversation with him had been weirdly intense. He was clearly after something, but what? Me? Did he really think I was going to become some powerful individual? Like a superhuman or something? What did he see in me that he wasn't seeing in Tiffany, Jay, Amar, Blain, Tommy, or anyone else at the facility? More questions sprung to my mind which eased closer into sleep as if the questions were sheep to be counted.

How many conversations like the one I had just had with Robert had taken place between him and other teenagers at the facility? Was I special or was he just making me feel like he had singled me out because he possibly saw something unique in me?

My thoughts fell on Abigail, particularly how she had looked as she had kicked off her shoes and had crossed the room to the kitchenette. In your dreams, I thought, rolling my eyes and turning over on the thin mattress; as uncomfortable as the bed was, it might as well have been a cloud because of how ready for sleep I was.

Something stung at my closed eyes. I eased them open, looking down. My Meter was flashing orange again. Oh come on, I thought, is there really no rest for the wicked?!