Natalya was nothing like the Grandmother I had grown to know and like over the last few months. There was a kind of feral-ness to her. Eyes that had often appraised me, or been the cap of a smile, now darted back and forth as if there was something hiding out there among the tree-line, something alarmed her. Lips curled back to show teeth in something that was more snarl than smile. Worse, I could sense a darkness that resonated with the darkness deep inside of me.

She let me out to teach you a lesson. You think life is hard? Let me tell you about hard. I’ve heard you whine all about your treatment at Camp 32. Imagine what it must have been like forty years ago. I could show you-

There was a sudden yelp inside my mind and I had the impression of Natalya rubbing her backside, an action that her physical hand unconsciously mimicked.

What was that? I asked.

What? Nothing. Not much anyway. She wants me to be a little nicer to you. Natalya chuckled. Apparently I’m supposed to be a model for you.