Days passed and the simplicity and repetition of tending the garden became the backdrop for lessons in controlling my abilities. While I weeded, I spun my shields as thick as I could make them, muffling myself inside my own head. Hauling water I thinned my shields until they were a breath and I could hear whispers around me.

I was taught the layers of thought and the rules each one had. One could listen to surface thoughts without intruding, but to attempt anything further without permission was unacceptable.

At night, we played games, using cards and simple objects, trying to guess the symbols while the others tried to lie. The absurdity of the lies made me laugh, and sometimes I think that was the most important lesson I learned in those first weeks.

And if I knew only Sofiya and Yulia’s names at first, I did not begrudge the others their privacy. I could feel them still, encouragement and satisfaction in the air around me like a companion.

And each morning I drank my milk, content as I had never been.