“I am.”

“Be careful.”

“I ammmm! Give me that french fry.”

“I thought the whole point of us giving you food was so you didn’t get distracted from the tinker stuff,” Chicken Little said.

The process of chasing the french fry, which was constantly pulled back before teeth or lips could get it, saw Peep’s head craning all the way back, mouth open, while Candy dangled the french fry above her. There was a camera shutter sound, and smaller cameras around the desk opened up and whirred lightly as they turned to face the screen. Peep typed without using her eyes.

“It’s like a baby bird, wanting its food,” Chastity observed.

“You feed baby birds like that by puking into their open mouths,” Juliette said. “Interested, Lookout?”

“I just want a french fry! They’re so good!”

Candy lowered the fry enough that, straining with her whole body to rise out of her seat, Peep could bite off the very end.

Aroa, soundless, reached over to the stack of rations, where packets of condiments with faded labels were stored. She found the vinegar and hot sauce, tore them open, her eyes on Peep’s mouth as it opened again.

Imp reached over, and squeezed the bottoms of the packets. Vinegar and hot sauce squirted out, over the girl’s gloved hands, some dribbling down onto the lower half of her costume.

The thirteen-year-old Heartbroken took a second to digest what had just happened, then set her sights on Peep again, reaching out—

Imp stepped into her way. Aroa tried to walk around, and Imp blocked her again.

“What are you doing?” Roman asked Aroa.

The question prompted Peep to turn her head, mouth closing. Candy reached around to offer the french fry, and Peep took it.

“Missed opportunity,” Aroa said.

“Ruining your costume, more like,” Candy said. “Maybe you should start by asking Parian how to get that ketchup out.”

“That’s hot sauce,” Juliette said.

“Oooh, oh,” Darlene said. “I see what you were doing.”

“Like I said, missed opportunity,” Aroa replied, before leaving the room.

“Thanks for the heads up, Roman,” Peep said.

This was a process. Imp was making it a habit to sit back and watch some of the Heartbroken, because most of them were very good actors, and could put on a relatively innocent face when others were watching. Every single one of Heartbreaker’s kids, including the unpowered, were tricky to handle in their individual ways. Flor and Nicholas weren’t among this group of ‘graduates’ that were getting more and more slack on their leashes, so to speak. Imp could back off, watch and see how they behaved when they thought nobody was looking, and adjust accordingly. Throw in a few minor embarrassments and Pavlovian lessons…